The better side of crappy

I wish I could take credit for this phrase, recently coined by my sister who is going through the post-surgery blues.  It so perfectly sums up a mood that is somewhere between ok and my-life-sucks.  And it happens to perfectly sum up my current state of mind.

I am sitting here at 1:45 a.m. in a terribly uncomfortable office chair.  I am supposed to be in bed, but I recently vacated that location due to less than desirable sleeping conditions.  Being awake in the middle of the night is a little weird;  I sorta feel like I am doing something wrong, sneaking around the house like a burglar, avoiding all the creaks in the floor and quietly closing doors to bedrooms so I don't disturb anyone else with my insomnia.

The stillness in the house gives me too much time to think.  My mind starts to wander with anxious thoughts and I worry about everything that is wrong in my life.  Most of my worries are about things I can't control, but I go ahead and worry about them anyway.  It's silly and a little irrational, but I can't seem to help it.

I've tried what feels like everything for my anxiety.  Meditation, therapy, vitamins, calming teas, avoiding caffeine, all kinds of medications and nothing really seems to work.  I read an article once that told me one of the best things I can do for anxiety is get enough sleep.  Obviously whoever wrote that article is a moron.  So what else can I do?  This is not a hypothetical question, but an actual question sent out into cyberspace where it will hopefully return to me with some answers.  Anxiety can be crippling at times.  And the worst part is that I see it in my kids and I feel so responsible for it.  So guess what I do?  That's right.  I worry about it.  I even have anxiety about anxiety.  It makes me laugh a little, which come to think about it, could be from my current sleep-deprivation.

So anyway, there's my little rant for the night.  Maybe writing it out will ease my mind and give me some relief.  Who knows?  Not me.

Welcome to the better side of crappy.

food for thought...

Abby:  "Mom?  Why do boys sometimes order girl cheese sandwiches?"

happy October!!

Just pie

Here's the deal.  My mom makes the best pies in the world.  For real.  IN THE WHOLE WORLD.  She came to see me the other day.  She brought me a peach pie because she is the best mom ever.  After she left I immediately ate two pieces and then proceeded to hide the pie in the back of the fridge.  If you get between me and my pie, there is trouble.  And this is what I had for breakfast, lunch, dinner and a midnight snack the next day which is totally acceptable because there is fruit in it.  Yes.  The pie is gone.  Yes.  I cried.

Behold the deliciousness.  It's just so beautiful.

And again.  Do you notice the exquisite, flaky crust?  Perfection, my friends.

This is how I look before I partake of the deliciousness.

This is me:  the pie stalker.

And this is me eating another piece about 5 minutes after I ate the first one.  I promise I do use a fork.

Long live the pie.  Go get some.  But stay away from mine.

A play in three acts

The cast:  Mom and Abby

The plot:  A series of conversations between mother and daughter.

The setting:  Sacrament meeting.

Act One

(Congregation is folding their arms reverently during our five-minute -- no lie, it was FIVE MINUTES -- opening prayer.  At about minute number two, Abby starts to fidget.)

Abby (using a hushed voiced that barely qualifies as a whisper):  "Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  When are we going to be done?"

Mom:  "We just started, Abby.  We have about an hour left in the meeting."

Abby:  "One hour?  Is that a long time?"

Me:  "Well, ya kinda."

Abby:  "Uuuuuuuuuuuh.  Nooooooooooooo."

Me:  "Fold your arms and stop talking!"

(Next scene, during minute four of never-ending prayer)

Abby: "Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  Mom."

Me:  "Whaaaaat?!?"

Abby (using the whiniest voice she can possibly muster):  "This is the loooooongest prayer EVER."


Act Two

(Congregation is bowing their heads reverently as the sacrament is passed.  I take that back.  Everyone except my children are bowing their heads reverently.)

Abby:  "Mom?  Your arms look like Sponge Bob's"

Me:  "..........."


Act Three

(Congregation is getting restless.  Sacrament meeting is running in overtime, probably due to the aforementioned five-minute prayer.)

Abby (Not even bothering with the whisper this time):  "Mom, do you know how to say hello in Hawaii-an?  Alooooooooooha!"

Me:  "Wow, that's awesome!"

Abby:  "I am so smart, huh."

Me: "Yes you are definitely a smart girl."

Abby:  "Yup.  My brain is getting lots of wrinkles."

(Mom laughs out loud, congregation sings "We Are All Enlisted" and curtain closes on yet another successful sacrament meeting.)

Regret

I sit before you a changed woman.  My youngest is now officially in school.

There are no more babies in my house.  I know I put on a good show the other day about how excited I was, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda.  But I take it back.  I sent Abby into class today (where she quite willingly went) and then walked home by myself to an empty house.  Yes, I cried just a little, right before I wandered around aimlessly, followed by a glassy-eyed stare out the window.  At this point I decided I better do something productive, so I rearranged my furniture, which is really just a way for me to assert my control over one aspect of my life because I feel like I've lost control over another.  See?  I am learning something in therapy.

Three hours later I was walking myself back to the school, ten minutes early.  I chatted nonchalantly with another mom while I was stealing glances at the Kindergarten door every thirty seconds.  Abby walked out a few minutes later with the biggest smile on her little face.  "Mommy!" she giggled and ran to me for a hug.  We walked hand-in-hand back to our house while she talked about the day's adventures and I realized something--I really shouldn't wish it away too soon.  And I won't.  I will cherish this time with her because there is one thing I can live without: regret.

Why I wanna be a scarf girl

So my last post was a bit of a downer.  Sorry about that.  But today I am feeling a little more optimistic.  You wanna know why?  Because change is around the corner, folks!  School is in session and we survived the first week;  some of us better than others but overall we are off to a good start.  Abby starts Kindergarten in another day and can I just say how excited we all are?  Is that terrible that I am excited for my baby to start school?  I know, I know, I'm not supposed to wish it all away and all that, but that little girl needs social interaction like she needs oxygen.  And in all reality I am exhausted from the effort of being her only source of entertainment.  She is going to LOVE school.

So with school starting, it means that fall is coming.  I love fall.  I really do. Spring is my favorite, summer is awesome, but there is something about the crisp air, the beautiful leaves and the smell of change that just makes fall a magical season.  But honestly, I basically love every season except winter. Winter sucks.

Anyway...

I also love fall fashions.  The boots.  The sweaters.  And the scarves.

Oh how I wish I was a scarf person.  I see people in all their scarfy stylish-ness and I think, "Yes!  I could do totally do that!"  But then I buy a scarf, put it on and take it right off because I feel ridiculous.  Does anyone else do this?   I don't know.  I feel like a fashion moron, but there it is.



You see?  Absolutely cute.  When I look at these pictures I feel utterly envious. These pictures also make me realize that I want to be a legging person, but with the same irrational reasoning that wish will also never come to pass.

And so I will spend the next few months with my baggy jeans and scarf-less neck, but will find comfort in the fact that school is in session, fall is coming and I have three hours a day to myself.  Woo hoo!

I'm trying

I'm trying.

I really am.

But sometimes I get tired of trying and it just seems easier to give up.

For example:  I have been trying to go to sleep for the past hour, but I just gave up.  It was easier, you know?  Shawn is a snorer and I have found ways to cope with that.  Earplugs are now my best friends.  But he recently developed a new sleep disorder in which he randomly and unconsciously jerks his legs around while he is sleeping thus eliminating all chances of me falling blissfully into slumber myself.  I'm sure there is a name for this condition.  Doctors love to do that.  They assign names to the weird things our bodies do so we can have some validation that there is indeed something wrong with us, but alas, there is probably nothing we can do about it.  But thanks for asking, please pay your copay on the way out and have a nice day.

In a lot of ways this little story is an analogy of life.  My life.  I try and I try, but sometimes feel like there is no hope of success.  I would rather go around that mountain in front of me instead of climbing it.  But then I remember that I won't be able to see the view from the summit if I don't do the climb.  And at that point it's possible that I might break into song---Julie Andrews, NOT Miley Cyrus, just so you know.

Where was I?  Oh ya.  Climbing mountains.  Being tired.  So maybe it's time I sat down on the trail to catch my breath.  I'll get over the sleep problem, but other problems seem particularly difficult at the moment.  So I'll take a break, unload some of my burden and ask for help.  Because we have guides, right?  People around us ready to take our hands and help us up.  And one thing is for sure;  I am not the only one on this mountain.  And I won't be the only one at the summit.

So I keep on walking.

Abby's new 'do

Yup...we chopped it all off folks!  Personally, I think the shorter hair matches her spunky personality a little better than the Rapunzel look.  If I would have been thinking clearly I would have taken a "before" picture but let's face it, clear thinking has never been one my dominant traits.  I snapped one as the stylist started cutting so you can see how long it was getting.

As we walked into the salon, she told me she wanted it short and curly.  I told her she could have it short, but since her hair is straighter than a stick it would most likely need to stay that way.  To be honest, I thought she might change her mind about the shorter cut, but she sat in that salon chair with the biggest smile on her face and never batted an eye as the stylist chopped about 4 inches off!

I love this little girl!

I got nothin'

No witty remarks, no funny kid junk, no deep and insightful observations.

My life is officially boring again.

Not that I'm complaining.  Actually, I am complaining.  Wow...even when my life is boring I still find something to complain about.  See, now I am complaining about the fact that I am complaining.  What is WRONG with me?!?

I guess I could always write the obligatory update post.  Here I go.

Shawn is working.  He has a job.  It is nice.  We have money again.

The kids are out of school.  They are bored.  They are driving me crazy.  Edit:  MORE crazy.

I am a mom.  I stay at home and pretend like I am doing practical and useful things.  But really I just play on my phone and read.  Have I mentioned that I am bored?

Yardwork sucks.

The end.