Blog Tag - You're it!

Hello? Is anyone there?

Yes, Jess. I am taking up the blog tag challenge. However, you are the only person I know who blogs. So...I am just going to tag you back. And hopefully blog in my own blog more often. Love those sisters!

widowed....deer hunting widow, that is.

It's pouring outside. We'll likely be flooding by morning. And I'm alone. Well, not totally. I have three children at home. This isn't a comfort though. They're picking on each other mercilessly, like siblings do and do well. I'm hiding in cyberspace...unsuccessfully. I hate it when he leaves. Hate it.

Rough weather ahead...bring a lifejacket.

Thursday night I got some news that I never really thought I'd hear. Cancer. No, not me. But my father. I suppose that with all of the crap already attacking our family this year (actually my whole life) I really shouldn't be surprised. But I still am.

In talking with my dad, he's put me a little at ease because apparently it's a very treatable form of cancer and they caught it unbelievably early on. While talking to him on the phone about treatments and how things will be changing he said something that struck me. He commented on how well I and my siblings handle the traumas in life that would normally de-rail people. We're just cut out to weather the really bad storms. Although I agree (my co-workers think we kids should all get together and write a book) it makes me wonder if that certainly means that we have a lot MORE we're going to have to weather and where my breaking point is. Don't even wanna go there!

For now, I'm just so grateful that my brothers and sisters and I are all such good friends and a real source of strength for each other.

Beauty...and the Beast

Anna, my youngest, is a budding beautician. As soon as I walk through the door she excitedly yells, "I do yours hair!?" (She's 2) That proclamation is followed by an armful of combs, brushes, ponytail holders, and "bangs", which for some reason is what she calls a curling iron (not plugged in, of course.) I used to really enjoy having my hair played with. Now? Not so much. She hurts. She combs my hair from the bottom up. I'm not sure my hair is going to make it through this phase. It's already breaking off. If I suggest that I do her hair for a change, she informs me that her babysitter, Sheri, is the only one who does her hair. Sounds a bit like her dad. No one else but Jamie touches his head!

Anyway, wherever I land, I have a pile of hair products directly behind me. Maybe I'll cut my hair off. I think not.

Order

I love a good clean, organized, quiet home. I wish I lived in one.

My family has officially outgrown this lovely home of ours. Sure, we'd have plenty of space if not for all the stuff that comes with us. But I'm not about to start pitching things as my DH suggested. I have determined that I have a somewhat extreme attachment to "things" for my memories. I'll often see, touch, smell, or hear something and an intense emotion or memory is triggered. It's who I am, and I'm not giving it up.

Because of a nasty flood we experienced last spring which severed us from a good portion of our stuff, I'm a little hesitant to put things under the house in the crawl space again. The things left are my only links to my past and the memories of my mother and my youth. Therefore, it's lingering upstairs with us with no real place. I suppose that would be okay too if we could find what we need when we need it! Frustrating for sure.

Well, apparently I'm not the only one who is bothered by the mess. My DH mentioned this sad story to his mother a few weeks ago. She, being very organized and structured, got right on that. She's coming up tomorrow to "help" us out. Why is this a problem? It shouldn't be really. A few things though. I think my pride is a little shaken. "It's my home. What's wrong with it?" She even said she thought we'd never ask. Which makes me feel a little pathetic. Plus redecorating is expensive! And there is the problem that I don't really know what style I want (well actually I do, but can't afford that.) So I'm a little nervous about where this is all leading. Maybe good. Who knows. Deep breaths, Jean. Deep breaths.

Anyway, I guess I could use a little less chaos in my life so I'll put on my courage face and plunge in. Scary. I don't know why, but it is.

Resolve

I'm a creature of habit. Not all good habits, I'm sorry to say. But I'm pretty stubborn and getting more and more so each day. I think my children mimic and magnify this trait well. Anyway, I decided that I'd follow my sister's advice and rather than start a whole smattering of New Year's Resolutions, I'd work on a few rather simple ones throughout January and see how I do. Baby steps to a better me. I'm not going to go so far as to list them (at least not here) but let's just say that they resemble the list I had last year. It's the 9th of January, and I'm not doing that bad. Exercise to me is a crappy goal. I know I won't do it no matter what fancy gym equipment lies in front of me or how many sporty outifts and comfy jogging shoes I own. Not for me. But I can avoid some bad habits that lead to poor health for at least this month. I can drink more water and get more sleep. And who knows, maybe by March I'll be strong enough (will power, not necessarily physical strength) to do a few situps and stints on the treadmill. If it means fitting in the clothes I have or, even better, buying new more flattering clothes, it just might "workout" for me this 2006 year! Wish me luck!

Howl-oween!

Halloween was a great success at my house this year. The kids being older helped. My youngest isn't so sure that this holiday is for her, even with people handing her candy all night long. She climbed my leg and clung to my neck the whole night, even when around people she knew well who weren't dressed up. Anyway, I was a little disappointed in the costume selections. My original idea was to be The Incredibles!! Having the perfect match to the Disney family and my own family didn't impress them. And my husband drew the line at spandex. Also, my sewing machine is broken so I wasn't able to whip up the adorable homemade variety of years past. Instead, Wal-Mart and Party City pinch hit for us. Of course, Michael was Batman. Who else would he be? Duh, mom. RyAnn was "naughty & nice." I don't ask anymore. Anna was a butterfly for the whole ten minutes she wore the $12.95 wings I purchased. The rest of the night she was more or less disguised as my hip (fear.) Jason was (yes, I managed to get him to dress up, but not on Halloween night) a cowboy. This is only hysterical to those of us who know him for the "preppie" boy that he is. And I was Linc from the mod squad (except I was white and not black.) I had the most amazing Afro wig and tiger-print panel bell bottoms.

I must take a minute to "bag" on the whole Trunk or Treat idea. I am so glad that my family still chooses to go door to door through our little neighborhood. We got to see some widows and shut-ins who I fear don't have visitors much. They were all so thrilled to see our excited little monsters incognito. They made a huge fuss over their costumes and their "trick or treat" chorus that my kids were on cloud 9. What better reward for their efforts rather than throwing candy at them from the unappreciative Ford or Chevy rear-end!? Nope! No Trunk or Treat for my kids. We're still cautious and safe, of course. But this paranoia has got to stop or our kids are going to grow up scared of their own shadows! There...stepping off my soapbox for now.

Happy Halloween!!!

Snap!

I love my kids and all the things I'm learning as a mom. However, the WHINE has got to go. Lately these kids have a sound that comes out of their mouths that makes me want to jump in my car and drive away really fast or lock myself in my room with an iPod! And for some funny reason, I never get a break from it. They are rarely ever all crying at once, but rather they tend to tag team each other and take turns perfecting that annoying yelp!! Right now it's the nearly-two-year old. Terrible twos my butt! I think two is delightful. It's the pre-twos that you have to watch for. And red heads (who has recently taken on the nickname of Lucifer.) Now what was it loved about motherhood? I can't remember over the screeching!!