happy halo-ween

of kids and politics

i hate to own up to the term "undecided voter", but these are the breaks, kids. and so it is, with much love and devotion to the delightful david sedaris and his "undecided voters", i spin you a tale today.

last night while helping me with supper as jason caught up on some news, bella suddenly blurted out, "oh no. not him. he's gonna ruin the whole world."

i was more than a little shocked and asked who she was referring to.

she said "obama".

i asked her where she heard that and if she truly knew who obama was.

i know i'll probably get hit upside the head for the following announcement. and i'm sure it makes me a truly horrible mom. but here goes: unlike the rest of the free world, i chose not to sit my daughter down and hold lengthy discussions regarding this election.

there, i said it.

we've talked about what an election means and who the candidates are, and how important it is to vote, especially as a girl who will one day be a woman. bella's caught a couple of the debates with us & got to take part in *kidz rock the vote* at ETSU over her intercession week, but thats been about it.

reflect *motherly civic duty*? check.

while i agree children should have information, i also believe they should be children as long as possible. i'm not raising my daughter to be some passive conservatist, but i am of the mind that as long as i can stretch out the fact that the grownups of the world are, to a large extent, insane, and many have succeeded in making the u.s. one big hot mess, i'm on board. there's plenty of time for protests in her future. the trouble with that thought train is how it tends to derail with unexpected intervals in the land of influence.

when bella popped that big eye-opening statement,we discovered she'd overheard a conversation between her nana and aunt. the one, citing *devout christianity*, the other, plain old fashioned discrimination. wow. thanks, guys. score one for the ladies.

which, sadly, will play a part in this election, on both sides, no matter how you cut the cheese.

i asked her why they or she thought obama would ruin the world and she didn't know. it was painfully apparent she'd just been paroting. and the last thing i want is for my daughter to go around spouting off misinformation based on ignorance.

and so, what had to follow, was a cliff notes version on our history, and a conversation about difference of opinion and peoples rights to those opinions. that we have 2 candidates that have different ideas of how something should be done. and thats' what we're voting for: who we think has the best ideas on how to take care of our country. we talked about how important it is for us to respect our government and president. how important it is that we pray for him/her, that they will make good choices for us.

but even as we explained this, i felt a twinge of sadness and uncertainty.

growing up, my dad always stressed the fact that you can't be lukewarm; you're either hot or cold. and if you choose to sit out on the fence, then you give up your right to raise your hand and object. that's something that's always stuck with me, and i gave the same explanation to my own daughter last night.

but this year, i find myself edging closer and closer to that fence. ya know, i tend to dodge the subject of politics, whenever possible. not because i'm playing the neutral card or i'm hiding behind the sacredness of my party preference and all it represents, but because i feel as tho when politics enters a discussion, all objectivity just goes right out the door and everyone just sees red.

much like this election.

does that give me a right to sit on the fence? no. but does it mean i prefer obama to mccain in this election, one over the other? no. when bella asked me whose ideas i believed in, i honestly had to tell her right now i'm not sure.

i don't know where you're at in this vote. well, ok, some of you have made it perfectly clear, but here's where i'm at:

i wish we had another option.

i think, to a large extent, that the american population has been blindsided by the unprecidented opportunity we have before us. everything is new and refreshing and a promise for *change*. and anything with "the works" or "bigger and better" in the title.....any change in general, causes a frenzy nowadays. on the one side, you've got potentially the first black president. on the other, a woman for the vice position. never before been seen or done. and because of that, i think alot of the heavier topics on the line aren't even being taken into consideration.

i think we have a huge, monumental decision on our shoulders next week. and i think that either way you look at it and whatever your vote will ultimately be, in my heart of hearts, i feel its just a calm before a storm. unlike any other.

the beckoning of lovely

my kid rocks. and she's got the photos to prove it. one day in the near or not-so-near future, depending on how the scores go, i promise to scan this in for you, all pretty and clear. but we got her photos back and mounted just last night. me, being the proud mama, took a quick shot of her masterpiece this morning.

some time ago, in reading jen lemens rwanda story, i was introduced to hoperevo.com and was immediately hooked. the whole "kindness matters. make a difference. spread hope. pay it forward" phenomenon appeals to everyone these days, i think. and i'm no different. its been such an awesome outlet to include my daughter in as well. and since joining, bella and i have spent many the fun afternoon drawing pictures and creating little hope notes to leave in random & obscure places. during the summer thru little day trips we took here and there, we moved on to rocks; have sharpie, will travel.

when bella needed a theme for her photography project due in for the schools talent competition, Reflections, i asked her how about including our rocks. she was happy with this idea, as long as this meant a romp in the creek after her *shoot*. and tho i had to help her with position and focus at first, she quickly got the hang of it. it was a gorgeous day and this is the fruit of her labor.

so in keeping with the warm fuzzies, i thought i'd share this with you today. i sat in awe, watching this yesterday morning. its simple, and as the title reads, lovely. scroll down and mute the music so you can get the full effect.



i hope you all enjoy a lovely weekend of your own. carve some pumpkins.

wherein we watch Ghosthunters

aww, look. jason got his ear pierced.

huh. now see i would've never noticed that. i myself was looking for apparitions just now. as you do, when watching a show titled "ghosthunters". how is it that women always notice those things?

because we see everything. we are All Knowing. its a little thing we're fond of calling *keen observation*.

:highly inappropriate, exaggerated rolling of the eyes:

no, its true. for example: we notice when a man gets a hair cut. every single time. unlike certain men, who shall remain nameless, that don't notice when their wife gets like 6 inches cut off of her hair. or better yet, dyes it 3 shades darker.

in my defense, it was 2 shades darker if it was any.

still.

oh i see. kind of like the time when you didn't notice i shaved off my goatee. for Two Whole Days. only the biggest thing on my face.

thats different. i was hormonal. plus, i'm pretty sure you were not on my *happy* list at the time. i was avoiding looking directly at your face. also, you're my husband.

ahhhh. the "love of your life" as opposed to a perfect stranger. say, some benign ghost hunter on tv, for example. mmm. makes sense.

touche, my friend. touche.

money money money money

you know what i love? i love the part when you have mountains of laundry to sort thru and treat for stains and you can just throw the boxers or towels or socks in without a 2nd glance.

i love that.

so i was awake, flopping around restlessly, at 5 am this morning, willing my bladder to just go back to sleep. and worrying about, you guessed it, money. oi. such a difficult topic for me.

wednesday night at work, i was bent over in an awkward and unflattering position, straining against gravity, attending to *flow* in the shower. as i straightened up, i heard a subtle, yet all too familiar *snap* and inwardly groaned, reaching up to check the damage.

thats right, ladies. my bra broke.

i swear. i am cursed to have the worst problems with these things. and whats worse, is that thanks to an extra helping in that department, i can't just pop over to the walmart or even victorias little secret (and thats if i had the moulah). no, i am blessed. which means a trip to somewhere thats gonna charge me half a boob to let 'em fit it.

also, i am incredibly picky about my "support system". wires may be the death of me but i stand by them because they hold me at the precise point where i like to think i should hover at.

jen over at breed em and weep said it best:

"you know I had my bra surgically attached to keep the gals from taking the elevator to the ground floor."

ohhhh and i would, if i could. c'mon. they can make em bigger or smaller already, and puhleeze. they can surgically apply makeup now. lets get busy.

this girl i used to work with always bragged about the cutest lil' bras she could catch on clearance and i loathed her good fortune and small chestississ. $6 for a bra. i have never paid $6 for a bra in my life. not even while those puppies were trainin'.

even my wonder woman underoos cost more than that.

so, blargh. unfortunately, this was the only bra i had left, that i hadn't had to pull the blasted wires out of, or tried to reconstruct in some frankensteinian way. folks, it was my One Perfect Bra.

sob.

so all weekend at work, that bloomin wire kept poking me in the side. but i'm choosing to believe that was a little jab from heaven above. a lil' reminder that "hey. pssst. i'm here."

and i'm cool with that.

money and my relationship with it and the lack of it, is hands down, one of the biggest issues i face on a daily basis. during our years together, our finances have always laid heavier on my shoulders. it was always easier for jason to leave that up to me. and despite my efforts at trying to milk trees for dollar bills, at the end of the day, i'd often feel kinda just slammed up against a wall. we've moved mountains thru the years and our struggle with it, or rather God has. and i'm thankful for that. sometimes, i still close my eyes tight & brace myself for that wall, but slowly, it gets easier to let go and let God.

but right about the time my bra decided to crap out on me, jason called about yet another bill from the oral surgeons office.

last feb, i think it was, we had money in hand and finally, thru jasons new job, the dental insurance we needed to have some of his teeth pulled. his mouth is rotting out, seriously. and for 4 months, he'd lived in pain, sucking down anbesol like no tomorrow and sleeping on a heating pad. without insurance, it was going to cost us $1100 to have 2 teeth pulled out. $700 if we went without happy gas. they wouldn't take payments & we didn't qualify for the dental insurance they pedal.

once a month, the free clinic in town takes patients on a first come/first serve basis for dental issues. but as we all know, nothing really comes free and once they took both of our incomes into consideration, the sliding scale tipped over and we didn't qualify. our only other option was the denture place they advertised on tv. for $65 and a shot of general anesthesia, they'd pull a tooth. only catch? again, first come, first serve. we had to keep bella out of school that day and both call into work, jason waiting 45 minutes out in the cold, wrapped up in coats and mittens and blankets, waiting on those steps to be the first one in the door. only to discover it was too impacted and would require oral surgery, not a simple extraction.

next.

i felt helpless. and it was such a crushing blow. i was going thru such an awful depression at the time & was already working overtime so we could barely keep our heads above water. i hated to see him in pain but i could do little more than keep him in tylenol and the dollar tree in business with my enormous anbesol sprees. periodically, i could call our doctors office and ask for yet another prescription of antibiotics so infection wouldn't take over.

so the day jason met his 90 day mark and came home with insurance papers, i was singing halleluiah and making the call. the initial consultation & x-rays indicated things weren't great but not as horrible as we'd anticipated, and that jason didn't neccesarily need to pull everything out and start over. 2 out of 4 in particular needed to be pulled and with the insurance and happy gas, it would run us $165. the day of his surgery, the secretary said there had been a slight oversight and would run $30 more. thankfully, we'd had our income tax to rely on and i wrote out the check.

jason felt a thousand times better and we were elated. but then the bills started coming from the oral surgeon. back and forth, back and forth, with their office and the insurance office.

for 8 months.

eesh. like i don't have other things to worry about. between fielding calls from them and my car payment company over that bill that i'm perpetually behind on, noone else can call.

the last time i spoke with the finance lady, she apologized profusely, saying something about the previous finance lady being fired over certain "imbezzling issues" and that they were trying to resolve the matter. the last insurance letter i got, said something about us possibly oweing $40. the whole blasted thing has just been frustrating, tho, so i filed it and decided to wait on the surgeons office.

so jason called me at work and said we'd got another bill. i sighed and asked him to open it, thinking great. just great. my oil light had been flashing and making this annoying dinging sound all week long, every time i drove it. probably something to do with it being overdue for a change, i don't know. also, jason was needing gas again and owed for the brake job he'd had to get last week and i was out of laundry soap and well, everything. now this.

rip. "what? no waaaaay. "

panic. "what. WHAT. what do they want THIS time!!!"

"its a check. for $155. "

"one hundred fifty five dollars?"

"no. $1.55. "

"whaaaaaaaaat?"

"i'm kidding. yah. $155 for the overage we paid."

i can't tell you how awesome that was. such an amazing God-sent answer to a prayer that i'd urgently felt, but hadn't taken to him in earnest. yet He knew, and He overlooked me and He provided.

that extra money bought jasons gas and paid on his brakes and for my laundry soap.

this weekend at work, for the most part was craptacular. bella had free tickets to the circus and i was glad for that one bonus because i anticipated this week being tight. jasons' check wasn't going to cover the phone bill plus groceries, and i was cursing myself for the $27 oil change i'd had done when maybe i could've gone another week til my paycheck. and for buying the big box of laundry detergent when i could've got the smaller one. or why did we have to pay for the rest of the brake job and where had i gone wrong. that $155 had gone so fast. and then jason was asking me if he could buy something for his dads birthday yesterday and i had to come up with milk and some kind of *filler* for bella's school lunches this week, plus i had no idea how i was gonna pay to have bellas photos developed for her school talent show project. had i handled Gods check with greasy hands?

i came home last night, really weary, for all intents and purpose. i'd been on my feet all day, tending to both of my clients while my other staff person chose to lay around watching tv. i'd cooked and cleaned and assisted with bathroom duty 17 times. i'd wiped bottoms and wiped drool and helped feed and bathe and administer medication....

it was a long day.

but i came home to my sweet family making me supper and bella grinning from ear to ear, holding something behind her back. with a flourish and a "ta-daaaaah", she unfurled a large bag, announcing she and nana had gone shopping at sams club and "look, just look what nana said i could have for school". inside, were granola bars and oatmeal packets and crackers and peanut butter and just a variety of little snack type things and i breathed a prayer of thanks. i sat down with my family to eat and told myself i wasn't going to worry about another thing until today.

so i lay there at 5 am this morning, wondering how this would all play out and hoping against hope that we wouldn't get overdrawn. i finally broke down and graced the loo with my presence and then took a nice hot bath. when the other 2 yayhoos got up, i asked jason for his gas and birthday present receipts ~ his dad had asked for a lampshade and some razors ~ and added them to my milk receipt. i got bella off to school and came back home. 'watched abit of the news and turned the modem on, pulling up a chair and digging out my highlighter and checkbook.

the damage wasn't bad and i thanked God for that. i'd be $50 short on the phone bill set to go thru today. so i breathed a little silent prayer and i called the phone company while signing off our banking site and flipping over to one of my favorite blogs.

as i waited out the automated phone tree, i read thru her entry and just felt so incredibly blessed. another thank you to the Big Guy upstairs. when the customer service agent picked up, i took a deep breath and explained my situation.

i just felt like i needed to give a shout-out to God this morning. the phone company was willing to work with me over a partial payment, which means we won't have to worry about overdraft fees and i will have the money to get bellas photos developed for her project. i was humming a song to *flow* when the bra incident went down and its funny how its come full circle this morning.

my savior,He can move the mountains
my God is mighty to save, He is mighty to save

i know in the big scheme of things,my little blessing and victory this morning is just a speck on the map. but i'm soooo so grateful. and i wish for every one of you, that small blessing today as well.

of in-laws and breakfast in bed

since we've not visited ye old video store in awhile, we scored 2 free rentals over the weekend and watched "baby mama" last night when i got off work. can i just say, tina fey is an incredible writer. the storyline was more poignant that hilarious, and tho a few snippets here and there were typically crass or fell a little short, it was a good movie. plus, it had a great soundtrack, which is always a plus in my book.

so day 2 of fall break. bella made me breakfast in bed: 2 slices of toast with a grape jelly heart, and a mug o' milk.

now. i would agree that this would, indeed, merit an "awww" from those bleeding hearts among you, if it weren't for her making up for shennanigans yesterday.

you'll remember i had to work yesterday. and the deal was, she was going to visit mamaw & her great uncle d for about an hour, then nana (jasons mom) was going to swing by and pick her up and jason would get her after work.

somewhere along the way? bella asked for a kitten. so what does any responsible grandmother do? she takes her to the pound and lets her pick one out.

who does that???

i hesitate to get into this because i love my mother in law. i do. in the big scheme of in-law horror stories, she's one of the good guys. lord knows she's been there for us. and genuinely, i owe her alot. but i have an exasperating sort of relationship with her, because i think bella is her 2nd chance at making up for lost time with her sons.

she and bella are very close, largely because i had to work all the time when she was a baby. so bella spent much of her most formative years at nana's hip instead of mine. and this would be all the more endearing, if it weren't for the fact that nana views her role not as nana but as mama.

jason and his brother grew up latchkey kids. their parents both worked and money was tight. in their defense, their parents grew up in a whole other era. there wasn't alot to offer 2 people who had dropped out of highschool. you got a job at the factory and you bought a trailer. and life was hard. the boys spent their afternoons and weekends at babysitters, the boys club, or home alone.

and because life was hard, the philosophy was you didn't dwell on things. matter of fact, you just didn't deal with them at all. which is why, when jason went to his mother at the age of 9, over being sexually molested repeatedly by a family member, she patted his shoulders and said, simply, "ok".

jason also remembers being 16 in highschool and heavy into drugs, went on a binge that knocked him out cold for 2 1/2 days. he woke up in his own vomit and waste and crawled to the living room to ask his dad for help. i can't fathom that. i know after 5 minutes of uninterrupted silence that something is askew with my daughter.

the thing is, we all have a back-story....pieces to the puzzle that make up who we are. and in the 10 years i've known jasons family, i find that i'm still gathering those pieces. and no, it doesn't always excuse behavior, but it makes it easier, sometimes, to understand.

what i don't get, what i don't feel is fair, is how his mother never seems to show us respect. she can never just stand back and treat us like anything other than stupid children who continue to make mistakes, in her book.

to date, she's bought bella the following pets, without our permission:

2 hamsters
3 parakeets
countless hermit crabs
a 20 gallon fish aquarium
a cat

just 2 weekends ago, while out thrift shopping with bella, she'd found a cute little cheerleading skirt that she wanted. but the logical side of my brain had kicked in, and a dress-up item was not on my itenerary when she needed jeans. so i said no, because this shopping trip, we were looking for school clothes, not play clothes. she was dissapointed but took it well. bella then went to spend the night with nana that saturday and when i get home sunday night, take a wild guess as to who greets me with pom-poms shaking, in that cute little cheerleading skirt.

i felt defeated. and i really didn't know who to be angry with. my daughter, for being naughty and asking for it, when i'd said no and explained why. my mother in law for being a jerk and buying it simply because i'd said no. or my husband for not standing up for me and backing me up with our daughter.

rrggghh.

the thing is, bella knows, in all her childish wisdom, that she can have whatever she wants at nana's house. that the word *no* doesn't exist there. and even tho she couldn't put it accurately into so many words, she's being shown the fine art of manipulation and disrespect, in the process.

an example: i limit bella's sugar intake drastically at home. soda's for instance, are reserved only for special occasions. but nana takes my words, my requests, and tosses them in the trash. at nana's house, bella can have a happy meal and then chocolate chip cookies and a piece of cake and a diet soda with a bowl of ice cream to boot. at nana's house, she can watch scary movies and stay awake til midnight and have no repercussions.

and maybe linda is making up for all those times she had to tell her boys no. all the times she didn't have enough money. i don't know.

i do know its a great source of aggravation in my life. jason and i both have to work. my own family are miles away, we have a handful of friends that aren't in the position to help us with bella, i don't know alot of people in the church because i'm working when they have bible studies, etc....and add to that, i really don't have the money to pay for professional child care. so i feel stuck, alot of the time. and nana and papaw become our backup plan. and i wish that weren't so. i wish i was in a position where that wasn't necessary.

at very least, jason put his foot down with the cat. he told his mom the kitten needs to stay there, despite her rebukes and bella's tears. i'm proud of him for that. and when i got home last night, we had to go have an in-depth conversation with our 8 year old on the importance of respect. hers and nana's.

so i'm curious. what are some of your experiences with in-laws and how have you dealt with them....

monday, monday

oi vey. i've been gone, baby, gone. for i have worked my butt off, over the last several days. which is tragic, actually, what with my lack of one. never the belly, always the butt....

i'm so tired.

but enough about me. have you missed me? i know i've missed you. my poor computer has felt all unloved and such. alas, these things happen. anyways, i'm so excited!! you all love me, you really love me! i'm snoopin' around the net and there in bright, bold print, i'm in link! i'm lovin' it!! that sophie in the moonlight chickadoo took me up on my lil challenge, and delivered with a rockin' post, all random and obscure and long-winded and such. heheh.

awesome.

oh and check this out. apparently i created something called a "meme". which is far-out and i think means i get to sit at the cool kids table for lunch. although, i'm still not entirely sure about that whole beet thing. really, truly.

its so fun to find out little snippets about eachother. for instance, it now gives me a special little chuckle, the notion that everytime sophie pops by my page, she probably becomes exasperated with all my run-on sentences, my refusal to capitalize or punctuate properly, and the fact that alot of times? i misspell things and i leave them that way because i'm really just too lazy to spellcheck or dictionary.com it.

i do kind of, sort of, have a reason for that tho. english/lit was my best and most favorite subject all throughout school. 'never got less than an "A". i could read before any of my friends and i loved books. they were my escape. my safe place. i loved words and everything that went with those words. secretly, i think i'd have been a great english teacher.

i credit my mom for much of that. and i'm so grateful, because reading has been a tough subject with my own daughter, which has been abit of a dissapointing yet exciting, challenging and hopeful craptastic type journey.

but see, i also credit mom for that unnatainable standard i tried so hard to live up to, growing up. i always thought i'd have made a great violinist because i had the perfect trainer. it was always, "better, more, practice, more". my 5th and 6th years, i remember sitting at our kitchen table every night after school, having to practice my penmanship over and over for her, because my letters were puffy and cloud-like and "ridiculous."

and in her defense, yes, they were. and because of all that practice, for a long while, i had beautiful handwriting. i think i lean to the right of chicken scratch now, but i appreciate her intention at the time.

but much of my formative years was dictated by the appearance i put forth for others. and i subscribed to that, wholeheartedly. i'm not saying how my parents chose to raise us was wrong. we all want to see the best out of our kids, no? but i am saying mom was hard on me. a fact i both appreciate and resent, because its been a weird road to travel, at times. i'm constantly reminded of putting forth that best appearance when tempted to do my own thing. be my own person. think my own thoughts.

and can i just say, thats exhausting, people.

so the first time i sat down and decided to write in my own journal, it felt like a dirty little secret, like smoking behind the barn, that first time i didn't capitalize my sentence. the first time i didn't end with a period. and so here we are now. and this why i'm me.

but enough of that.

in other news, you will all, i'm sure, be pleased to know that i've been hittin' the circuit hardcore in my brand new orthopedic shoes, so you better believe i've been rockin those suckers like the hot cougar i am. word to your grandmutha. the only bummer? as with the 18 hour bra, which is such the giant rip, as you know, long about hour 7 in those puppies? it all goes downhill. in other words, my feet still hurt. only now they get to hurt in snappy ortho shoes with that delicious new burnt bandaid smell.

score.

this conversation actually took place in the byrd family living room last night:

whine, whine, complain, sniff, whine
i'm sorry, honey. you want me to rub them for you?
no. they hurt. erego, i want you to chop them off
i can fire up the chainsaw...
that'd be swell. yah.
let me go find it
also, i'll need a few advil, some towels for the cleanup and something to stop the bleeding. whats that stuff men use when they're shaving? OH. and i'll need something to hold in my mouth so we can muffle the screams, yet gentle enough to not break my teeth.
wow. would you like a dry martini while i'm at it?
make it a dirty. that would be rockin'. oh, but then i'd bleed like a stuffed pig. wait. is it stuffed or stuck?
i'm gonna let you decide on that one
alright. on 2nd thought, maybe we should do this outside.also, maybe we should wait til i i've carved out some really rockin' tree stumps and thrown some bedazzle around the roots for toes.
mm. you knooooow. halloween's coming up.
suh-weeet. we won't even have to deal with cops or an ambulance then. we can just give everyone a great show. hey. we could even charge. then maybe i'd have enough for some prosthetic ones down the road when my roots rot out.
now you're cookin' with gas.
viva la halloween.

so we planned this huge birthday party for *flow* this weekend. we, being myself and
1 coworker. we went to a lot of trouble to make the whole blasted thing nice. we decorated,we made a cake, presents were bought. people were invited. guess who showed up. not my boss. no, my friends, she was a no-show. and when i called to guilt gently remind her?

and i quote: "kat, you have to realize people have lives outside this job."

may God strike her while she's kicked back in the easy chair with saggy breastessess. seriously. i have no patience for some people, anymore. i'm too old for this crap. also, i'll remember that when i get my own life one of these days.

but y'know what? even tho this whole different work schedule stinks like yesterday's garbage, i'm grateful i got stuck with the 1 coworker that helps keep me young and hip. we have "yo mama" contests off & on all day long, wherein someone starts it and the other person adds on. its fun. you know ~ a good time, and what-not.

yo mama
in houseslippers
in the kitchen
with whipped cream and a bowling ball
wearin' your myspace teeshirt
talkin' trash
to yo pappy
about your lipstick wearin, booty skirt barin' jive talk swearin' cousin ida may

whatever. you do what i do and don't see if you lean to the edge of crazy. kiss my grits. and i say that with love.

anyways. besides putting up with ridiculous people and shifts that go on for days, i've also managed to squeeze in some halloween cookie decoratin' down by the creek and a company picnic with the hubs and talent contesting with the resident red-head. so i'm sure we'll be busy this week, tho today is not that day. for one, because i have to work this afternoon. and for 2, because i'm pooped. i managed to convince her we needed to sleep in this morning and once placated with an egg sammich, some chocolate milk, a mini pack of m&m's and, :gasp:, tv time in the form of cartoons , i am officially the coolest most laziest mom ever.

oh hush. she's gonna take a bath too. so she'll at least be clean. eesh.

she's entered the photography and song portions of their talent competition, and right now she's torn between judy garlands' "over the rainbow" and sarah mclachlins' "arms of the angel". so when the big decision is ever made, i'll hopefully have a lil video or sound bite for your enjoyment. and, of course, you know i'll have a back story for her little photo montage.

i've also been taking care of jasons grandmother each morning during the week. or, as they rock it down south, his *mamaw*. she's in the early stages of alzheimers and still lives at home ~ mornings seem to confuse her most.

some mornings are easy. i bring chico, that retarded chihuahua i've inherited, and make sure she's had breakfast and her meds. i might coax her into a walk or watching the "golden
girls". maybe she'll look at a photo album with me or play with the dog. sometimes she lets me play with her hair and curl it just so. sometimes she just naps while i clean.

some mornings are not so easy. and they make me sad and introspective. on wednesday last week, it was rainy all day. weather that i personally love. but for her, it signaled distress. her faithful sunshine hadn't come out to greet her and this was confusing and scary. she met me at the door in her pajamas, her hair wild around her face and her eyes wide with fear. i wanted to just hold her on my lap and squeeze her tight and sing her lullabye's and tell her everything was gonna be ok. i think about the bouts of depression i've had over the past little while. and how i feel when my sunshine doesn't greet me.

lucky for you, i'm back on caffeine. so there's bound to be abit more sunshine now and again.

boo-yah.

p.s. yah. i've edited this like 4x's today. you're welcome.

wherein i applaud the fine work of our educational systems

bella has *intersession* this week.where she now goes to school year-round, their breaks are longer than the *normal kids*. next week is official fall break and this week they had the option of attending a special *theme week* at school, in lieu of just playing around the house and getting into mischief. of course i'm a hands-on kind of mom, and immediately asked where i could sign up for THAT, yes that. some of that, please.

heh.

so their theme week is all about water. monday, she got to go to the ripleys aquarium in gatlinburg. it was kind of a big deal, considering its 2 hours away. and for the past month, that's all we've heard about. what i found hilarious, tho, was when our kids all rolled up in their big fancy charter buses at the end of the day, the first thing you heard from 60 little voices had nothing to do with water or how cool the shark tanks were. instead, it was:

MOM. they had tv's on the bus! with the disney channel.

score one for education there.

what i surmised from bella's descriptive recount on the way home, was that the bus also had a bathroom and, oh yah, at the aquarium, jim made the *call me* sign to the diver in the tank and she made the *come here* sign with her finger crooked like this and so he did and then she blew him a kiss. also, on the way back home, she and carlos got into a discussion about nursing sharks being bigger than their heads which was obviously so funny and i just didn't get it.

tuesday, they got to go on a pretend *desert trek* in search of water. they also learned the importance of water conservation and began building their own wishing wells. bella came home with an assignment to write down how many things she did last night that were water related. what foods she ate, that had water in them, etc... but what bella remembers most about yesterday? that her best friend randi told everyone what color underwear she was wearing because she saw up her skirt when bella went down the slide upside down and that jim's big brother hit her on the butt with his lunchbox and she gave him a look like THIS.

so tonite, when jason called me at work to let bella say goodnight, i wondered what tall tales she'd have to share. they were scheduled to visit a large state park today and see how a water treatment plant worked and then visit a fish hatchery. unfortunately, it rained all day, so their plans were kind of, ahem, drowned out.

our conversation went down like this:

hey mama

hey baby, whatcha doin.

oh nothin. playin' with runtz. daddy's makin me go to BED. and i haven't even seen all the muppet wizard of oz. but he said he was tapin' it so we could all watch it.

well its that time, no?

:long dramatic sigh: yaaaaah. i guess.

so did you have fun today?

oh mama, it rained. so we couldn't go to the park.

yah, i saw that. i'm sorry. what'd you do instead.

welllll we watched a movie and had lunch and then we played in the gym and you know what? randi wanted to look in my lunchbox today and she saw my granola bar and asked if she could have it and i said no cuz we're not 'posed to swap but she said please and i said no but then i said it was ok, cuz mama? i kind of didn't want that anyway. but i told her only if she promises not to eat it at school and then guess what, she was eatin it right there watching the movie. yah. and it was chicken run. oh and you know what? i'm never gonna trust her again EVER with my secrets because i told her i have crush on luke and then she told EVERYBODY and then luke was running from me all day long.

why was he running from you?

cuz i was chasin him.

ahhh. well you know what would be the cool thing to do?

what

tomorrow, just act like it never even happened. like you never said such a thing. and then he'll forget all about it. and especially don't chase him.

yah. thats probably good. oh. and mama? when nana picked me up, i asked if i could have a i-dog cuz they have them at burger king, ya know it? i saw it on the commercial. and she asked me if i was hungry and i said i could probably eat. so the i-dog? it has a paper costume and his nose lights up. yah. cool, huh? and i had chicken nuggets and fries and a chocolate milk. is that ok? because actually i was kinda hungry because i had no snack for the movie cuz randi was eating my granola bar and i had a big whoppin nothin. yah, nothin. i was starved, i tell ya.

hmm. maybe you should keep your granola bar next time, yah? soooo what did you learn about water today.

uh, mama. hello? it rained. we couldn't do nothin about water. kind of a bummer, huh?

the foot of the matter

today, my devotion out of God Calling reads:

Jesus, the very thought of You, with Sweetness, fills us.

Yes. Love Me until just to think of Me means Joy and rapture. Gladness at the thought ofOne very near and dear. It is the balm for all your sorrows, the thought of Me. Healing for all physical, mental, and spiritual ills you can always find in thinking of Me, and speaking to Me. Are doubts and fears in your Hearts? Then think of Me, speak to Me. Instead of those fears and doubts there will flow into your hearts and beings such sweet Joy as is beyond any joy of earth.

This is unfailing. Never doubt it. Courage. Courage. Courage. Fear nothing.Rejoice even in your darkest places.

what a blessing that is, on this rainy day. what an encouragement. and logging on to my computer this morning, i'm reminded also, of the blessing this outlet of the internet provides me as well. such a gentle minister to my spirit, especially on darker days.

making me think about throwing rocks at the proverbial squirrels in our lives

being reminded of the times when we feel most alone, that God is saying:

Sometimes I lead you up a high mountain with only My hand to support you. The higher you climb, the more spectacular the view becomes; also, the more keenly you sense your separation from the world with all its problems. This frees you to experience exuberantly the joyous reality of my Presence. Give yourself fully to these Glory-moments, awash in dazzling Light. I will eventually lead you down the mountain. back into the community with others. Let My Light continue to shine within you as your walk among people again.

2 Corinthians 3:7; Psalm 96:6; John 8:12

thinking, in depth, of greener pastures.

How often after we turned “green” do we go back to our “stuff” Broken dreams, dashed hopes, failed marriage, bankrupt, vacant, empty, depressed, sad, incomplete, tired, worn out, exhausted, burnt out, angry, frustrated, crushed, disappointed, trapped, closed in.

David makes a very simple, but profound observation here.

God gives Life.
Not ordinary life but renewed life.

again and again over the past few years, i've come back to this place of humbling in my life. for some reason, i must be a pretty tough cookie to crumble. me? stubborn? ha!

so God bends just a little more. and just a little more. he bends me, yet doesn't break me. and i've done my share of grumbling in the process. its not always been so easy for me to rejoice in those moments.

one of my greatest heroes is julia butterfly hill. i have always loved a particular excerpt from a log of her first 100 days on top of a giant redwood named luna . even tho she felt this answer from a tree that had become her heart and voice and home, i feel it as much, Gods voice.

"think of the trees in the storm. trees don’t try and stand up straight and tall and erect, they allow themselves to be blown with the wind. If they don’t, they snap and fall. allow yourself to be blown with the wind. understand the power of letting go. do what it takes, allow yourself to blow with the wind, and know that I’m going to hold us up. Now is not the time for you to be strong. I’ll hold us up and we’ll make it through."

today i love the song "you're not alone" by meredith andrews.

my job with the state, is with an organization that provides health-care, occupational and physical therapy and residential services to adults with mental retardation. it has been a beautiful yet heartbreaking journey, at times. and it has been a great source of grief for me lately. i suddenly find myself on a teetering edge of unknown, as tho the rugs' been pulled out from under me. and while i feel this is all a part of the road God needs me to walk alone, set aside, it doesn't make it any easier to process.

some days feel relentless.

i work long shifts, caring for 2 women in their home. you'll remember ebb and flow. for reasons unknown to any of us, really, flow seems enamored with me. i've seen this tiny woman fly into rages of unbelievable proportions with more staff than i care to acknowledge. flow has also, never once, done so to me. i am the one preferred staff she turns to. i am the one person they call when nothing else works. and i don't know what it is, this magical
thread that connects us. but i love her more than mere words could ever convey.

on the verge of these changes, tho, with the job, and in my own life as well , i find that my job has shifted. that i have provided her with the best care i could give. that i have comforted her in her storms. but i am now inadvertently forced to step slowly away and watch her confusion head-on, full-throttle. i'm still there. but for circumstances beyond my control, i'm forced to realize that i can't be that person to hold her hand. that i can and will always love her. always champion her. always have her best interest at heart. but tho i am close, so close, i have to do so from afar.

i wonder, sometimes, if thats how God feels about us.

as a diabetic, one of flows most important needs, is that of proper footcare. she cries and screams, will hit and kick and bite, over someone tending to her feet. but for some reason, she does none of these things with me. always careful to approach the subject gently with her, i've somehow always managed to sucessfully work on them, without incident. staff and managers alike have asked me what the secret is. but the truth is, i have none. i just love her. and so i wash her feet.

we had a great service a few months back, about feet. and you know me and feet. i was intrigued, to say the least, when i spotted the sermon title. i found the praise and worship portion just a tad long that morning, wanting to get to the good stuff. :)

we spent that hour in john 13, where there's the story of Jesus washing the disciples' feet.

that's always got me. right about here. that He chose to do the lowliest of things. to humble Himself in that way, in effort to show His love for them. for us.

if you think about it, feet are possibly, who am i kidding, the nastiest, dirtiest portion of our bodies, with the exception of the words that can come out of our mouths. sometimes, even now, God washes my feet. and i wish i could say that i always sit there appreciative over that humbled gesture. without incident. but i don't. sometimes, i fall way short.

but how awesome is it, to have a God who doesn't hesitate to love us. to tend to our hearts and hurts. to our very brokenness. to hold our hands.

to wash our feet.

through the looking glass

what am i doing tonight? nothing. and i like it that way. that's how i roll. i'm frazzled and i'm too tired of wallowing in my perpetual cesspool of gloom. so i'm gonna lay it to ya real, today. bella is in intersession this week, jasons' brakes went out on his car, the chihuahua has fleas and i'm out of caffeine. today is my day off, so i'm sitting in my pj's, about to get into m'blogs, m'peeps. but i have this great idea, first. and no, i promise i'm not gonna drag you along to the thrift store with me.

i think we should all get to know one another better. and because i'm a trend setter, because i am cool like this, i'm going to share a few random bits about me and life in general, this morning. things i feel you should know. also, i'd find it fantastic if you'd join my cheerleading team over there on the right.

oh. and you're all, every one of you, tagged.

so lets get started.

*d'you know there's literally nothing tasty you can ever do with beets, ever? whoever heard of tasty beets anyway. seriously, google it. it'll come up "ewwwww. go stab your eye with a rusty spoon now. whats wrong with you".

*my favorite pet post-pregnancy 8 year old hemmoroid is flaring up, friends. tmi, you say? perhaps. but if i'm a little grumpy from time to time, now you'll know why.

hey. i'm a giver.

*my feet hurt. all the time. they never used to. it started about 6 months ago & i'm gonna go with the thought that my extra gut/spare tire/excessive boobage and trunkage doesn't neccesarily help my cause, but mostly its hereditary. my birth dad and his mother have horrid feet. also, you should know i have a foot fetish, because of this. and no, not in a weird, gross, freak kind of way. i just appreciate a pretty foot. i remember visiting that side of the family when i was little, and staring a little too long at my grandmothers feet, which were all gnarled and disfigured, as she hobbled around like a wee little hobbit, minus the toe hair. which reminds me. thats a pet peeve.

people. shave. your. toe. hair.

aaaaanywhoo. my dad wore like a size 16 shoe and i hated his feet and i always hoped i would have pretty feet, which, for the most part, turned out ok, tho i wear like a ginormous size 9 or 10, surprisingly mammoth for how short i actually turned out. and. i have weird little square toes. really awkward to paint.....

but i digress. the point is, i LOVE my feet but i haven't taken CARE of my feets. let this be a lesson. i've spent the vast majority of my adulthood either barefoot, in flip-flops, or standing on concrete floors for 10 - 12 hour shifts.

don't do that.

my 20's feet were fab. my 30's feet, not so much. lets just say we're not bff's anymore. 'totally not taking them to prom in stilettos. sometimes they hurt so bad i want to cry. and sometimes, i do, secretly. sometimes, in the morning, i hobble around just like my grandma and i curse those genes that also provided me with a carbon copy of my aunt cheryl's butt.

nice one, God. way to share the love. rock on, with your bad Self.

i have a very real, authentic, even justified fear, that sooner than i want, i will require surgery on said feet. which is kinda a bummer now that i've decided to go back to school. but don't worry, i'm a whiner, so i'll keep you posted.

*my mother brought up the subject of blogs the other night and freaked me the crap, out. i said something cool and largely to the extent of :

"hahaha. wow. that's cool. blogs. whoa. what're those. hahaha. whoa. some crazy new blizzard at dq? these kids today...."

lets just say there are a few subjects i may write about but not neccesarily publish around these parts. for this very reason. because she claims to be all technologically challenged, but how do i know this, 1200 miles away. this is the same woman that not so long ago, admitted to watching LA Ink "on the cable" and that "that little kat von d is so cute". yah. i know. also, she's just recently started calling me kat. which is endearing but also, just so weird. because she's always called me katherine. i think she's trying to be hip. so now she's got me all paranoid that she's secretly reading my blog and building up a case against me. and all because my sister dropped the bomb that she'd started one but she "wasn't giving mom the http://, so phbbbbt."

eesh. way to dangle a carrot, kim. like i need this aggravation. i'm thinking of slapping a disclaimer up there on the side and then gettin' dirty 'round these parts.

*my ears are guaged. and i can never remember the size. i think 5/8" but i don't keep up with these details, which would kinda stink if i actually bought body jewelry on a regular basis. but thankfully, i'm a low maintennance kind of gal. i know i can stick my pinky finger thru them. which, incidentally, is a fun party trick at your inlaws bbq or your kids vbs. i've been pierced a total of 17 x's and this always amazes people because you'd never know it. i was never a *metal face* as the kids say. but i enjoyed my brief stint in body modification. and no, i have no deeper meaning as to the "why" other than it meant and means something to me.

currently, i wear only a nose ring and my plugs. its interesting, tho, when people notice these things, because to me, as with my tattoos, they're just a part of me. i started guaging my ears the year bella was born. my m-i-l just discovered this only a month ago, and, i'm sure, is currently rethinking her adoration. i think my own mom still doesn't know. i think that they think i just wore/wear big round clip-ons. viva la '80's.

*my favorite super-hero's are always either of the human kind, or animations of the pixar variety. sure, there's that soft spot i'll always hold sacred for my first love, spider-man. but my new favoritest hero is wall-e.

* speaking of the '80's, did any of you ever do one of those season color palette parties? 'remember those? they were like tupperware parties, and all the rage. you could find out if you were a *spring* or a *winter*. good times.

* my favorite word of the week is *smite*. as in, the lord hath smited me, one too many times. or my daughter has smited me by giving me such a grand new batch of grey hair today. or that jive turkey in the turning lane that cut in front of me hath smited me.

you should try it. its fun.

*speaking of mom....she always told us that people who cussed, didn't have a very intelligent vocabulary. this has always stuck with me. at the same time, i've never professed to being overly intelligent. therefore, i do admit to a sort of compromise on this one. i love words. 'love quotes more. i have a vast collection of song lyrics and poems and bits & pieces of wisdom i've soaked up thru the years. i also tend to wheel & deal my own very special brand of potty mouth. to date, these are some of my most profane words, dug out of my dusty archive of a mind, just for you, on this most sacred of sharing days.

cheesy goodness.
sweet nuggets.
bump it.
snap
shblahblah.
jive turkey
shbliggity.
fudge-ripple.
craptastic.
hello fuzzy.
stinkin' heck.
slimey hockeypuck freakin' DURFWAD. (which i totally stole.)
what the foxtrot.
frassin
cheeky monkey
crackin
crusty dragon

feel free to borrow 'em at will, and distribute liberally. rinse, repeat.

*i heart my teeth and i've never had a cavity. knock on wood. the only issue i ever had with my teeth was yet another hereditary type thing, when my eye teeth started migrating towards my brain.

brain, nasal cavity, whatever. you get the point. its all going in the same direction. directly up there and probably shifting towards the left. why not.

anyway, they pulled them down, pulled my wisdom teeth out, and once the swelling had gone down, some 17 months later, slapped braces on me for 2 years with a night plate thrown in for good behavior.

but here's the kicker. to date, i've not been to the dentist in 12 years. oh i know. floss me now. you can call me gross, i don't care. i actually am pretty anal about my teeth, tho anal and teeth doesn't neccesarily a pretty sentence, make. i floss and brush regularly, thank you. twice a day even. with vigor. i don't have stains on my teeth and my teeth are not yellow, unless i stand next to someone reaaalllly tan. i also do not have stank breath, aside from when i partake of german food or my annual reuben. but see, i have this phobia that if/when i actually go for a checkup and a long over-do *cleaning* that they're gonna totally screw up the good i've got going and i'll be in dentures by 35. also, until i can justify the co-pay and not feel obscenely guilty that that $35 could be filling my tank with gas? not. gonna. happen.

oddly enough, i'm obsessive about my child's teeth and proper dental visits. weird.

*i cannot stand the feeling of peach fuzz or anything remotely paper/tissue-like on my tongue. tongue depressors? nuh-uh. and those little paper sticks holding up your dum-dums? i gag if my tongue actually makes connection with one. i have this irrational fear that someone is going to jump me in some obscure rest stop bathroom some day. probably in arizona~go with me on this~its my paranoia. anyway, they're going to then randomly pick my stall, stuff my mouth with toilet paper, and i'm totally going to die from just the sensation of something that fiber-ous in my mouth.

*i like to think i can talk all gangsta. except my gangsta comes out like *gangster*. which kind of defeats my purpose. viva la enunciation. but i'm cute, in a chubby chipmunk kind of way, which totally makes up for it.

word to your mother.

*frank, the wonder weiner dog has found a new home. and tho i miss his soft tummy and beautiful face and stinky kisses, our home has been soooo much more calm, and my soiled and tattered sanity has perked up by miles. good decision.

*i have a secret affection for printed tees. oh, i know. i know. its all so last year. but i can't help myself.

*so we were watching jon stewarts interview with with bill maher, the other night. he was pounding the publicity circuit for his new bit, titled "religulous" ~ his comedic attack on religious fundamentalism. and i have to say i was really, incredibly dissapointed, ya know? i've always been a fan of mahers. he's not, what i'd call a *subscriber* to the pc aspect and tho i may argue with my sister about just such things, i do secretly admire a person not afraid to throw their opinion out there.

i don't know how many of you will admit to watching mahers "real time" but i was always a fan of the round table setup, much in the same way i always got a special kind of joy from watching dennis millers' rants. i'm all for the spoofs, the sattire, and mixing it up a little. making people think. but i start to get aggravated when certain things don't seem sacred anymore. and maybe thats not fair. maybe thats a double-standard. i dunno.

i know you could argue, and maher certainly attempts to convey, that religion HAS become just this big joke in the world of politics. which wouldn't neccesarily be a lie. it has , in my opionion, become this big word with "connotations" for them to hide behind, when the guys up on the hill don't have the answers. anyway, they dissected a scene from a road trip through rural North Carolina, where Maher pauses at a tiny truck-stop chapel for some good-natured joshing with the congregation. Whereas he says *religion* sells "an invisible product," Maher explains to them, he's peddling doubt. and i just thought he got a little too personal, thats what i'm saying.

my opinion. just mine.

*i am secretly concerned that i know more about foreign policy than sarah palin.

*i think you should always make a spare key. always. so you don't end up crawling thru the window and getting stuck, halfway through, while the dog cruelly laughs at you from the bed. remind me to tell you that story sometime.

*when i walk by blankets, pillows, towels in stores, i have to touch/squeeze them for the softness factor. also, i'm obsessed with pillows. i have 10 on my bed. 10, count em. jason secretly loves this. he just doesn't know it yet.

*i can never remember anyone's birthday. never. and i always feel terrible when i realize i have. i feel i have personally mastered the *belated* section at hallmark.

*someday, i want to learn how to roller-skate/ice-skate. but i'm also deathly afraid of the ground not being underneath me. thats kinda why my pilots license and marine biology quests were a flop.

*3 things you should listen to: the ocean, the wind and the trees


* these are borrowed terms i wouldn't mind describing me too:

a gem. devoted. soul/spirit/earth sister,daughter,friend & mother. awakening. opening my heart. practicing. expanding. grounded. creator. healer. artist. writer. minister to hurts. lover of learning and lists, the color green and wild flowers. joyful. divine. delighted. connected. in awe. bold. curious. open. colorful. full of life. tender. soft. scrumptious.

wherein i admit all those manipulating, reverse psychological guilt trips mom gave me as a child, finally paid off.

i saw the most awesome quilt EVER today...you have to go look at it .

speaking of birth, and motherhood, as the 2 tend to go together, it was pointed out to me the other day that i am The Great Manipulator.

score one for mama.

so i had to get up early for a staff meeting tuesday morning and afterwards, spent the better part of my day doing something i haven't done in ages and i love: thrift shopping.

now i'm a weird kind of chickadoo. i've got my favorite hang outs, sure. i am woman, hear me roar. but with the exception of holiday aisles, book stores, yard sales, flea markets or specialty/crafy type stores, i don't really *get* shopping. i'm not a big fan. i'm in, i'm out. but i loves me some thrift stores.

i'm picky about my thrifting tho.

first, i have to be in the mood. one does not feel like digging for treasure thru stacks of junk just any old day. i once embaressed the living crap out of my abundantly patient husband who'd tagged along with me one sad, sorry, of-that-we-dare-not-speak-of saturday to a jc penney's clearance sale. i thought i was being cool like all the other cool moms but ohhhh was i sadly mistaken. you get trapped in there with 50 other women shouting over racks of clothes, pushing and shoving in one gigantic mass advertisement for the upside to lobotomies, and you slowly feel that small sacred thread of sanity loosen itself from your death-grip clasp, then dissapear like a fart in the wind. i literally slid down a wall onto the floor in the ohm position and summoned me some bob marley.

loud. and off-key.

next, my thrift shopping experience has to be, in my mind, cheap. jason thinks i shouldn't use the word *cheap*. that it sounds dirty. like a loose harlot. but these are the breaks, kids. so cheap it is. dirt cheap. so cheap that its almost ridiculous, cheap. like manna from heaven, cheap. like you will pay ME to take your rockin' slate gray with the purple butterfly & softer than old navy's, aeropostle teeshirt, cheap.

which is another shameful tidbit i will now admit to. i am the first mom to step up with an"oh no you dih'unt" at the mere mention of designer labels. you think i don't have rants? i have rants. its not important.... popularity has way more to do with your awesome character than how cute your jeans are, etc....

not to mention that i personally think it borders on retarded to go to the mall and spend $40 on a blouse with nothing more than a 1 inch *ae* splashed in the middle, ok? howEVER.....if i find said teeshirt for 50 cents in the bargain bin at ye old thrift store? glory halleluiah, my friends. glory halleluiah. i or my husband or my child will wear that puppy proudly while i do a secret high-five with the G-man, and fist in the air, mouth

"yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah. i...am allllll that is mom!!!

but let me get to the good stuff.

living in a "historical district", grants you a unique birds eye view into a plethora of over-the-top lifestyles. and i, being this lover of people, this culture afficianado that i am, love this. what we refer to as our 'hood' largely consists of an eccentric hodge-podge of people in the arts... professors...the retired....activists... members of the symphony....your smattering of college kids.....where the yuppies go to plant their gardens.....and more than our share of ye modern day hippies. more living rooms painted red than i care to mention. yes, i look. and all dog lovers. every one of 'em, bless 'em.

so this gigantic, invisible, yet strangely neon sign kind of looms over the tree streets:

go green! reduce-reuse-recycle! begin your compost pile today!

which is all just so great and awesome and something really uber cool that i totally aspire to do some day when i'm not, i dunno, busy. in all fairness, and in effort to thwart a backlash of hate-mail, listen, i care as much as the next guy about preserving this magnificent place most of us call earth. probably even more. and believe it or not, i even have my causes that are near and dear to my heart and that i am staunchly supportive of, and passionate about. i am mother natures' favorite great grandaughter. however. paying monthly, for special plastic tins (hellooo? plastic? can i get a contradiction-in-terms witness, around here??) so the city can come and pick up my nicely seperated garbage is not top on my list of priorities. cast your stones now. i totally get it. while we're at it, i still use cat litter. you know. the bad kind.

why? because its cheap.

anywhoo. this happens to be a great source of aggravation for my child, who cannot fathom, cannot wrap her mind around, why her parents aren't cool like all the other cool parents, from, you know, the cool side of town. she's always harassing me about how important recycling is. how we're not doing enough for our part. and all this, while i'm doing really cool stuff, too, like still cooking with grease and oogling the new dvd kiosks at walmart. have you seen these things? you can now rent movies at walmart for $1/day am i the only one properly amazed by this concept?

i digress.

anyway, my daughter hates to shop. i know, i know. enjoy it now. enjoy it while she doesn't understand the concept of the gap or can recognize a coach bag at 50 paces. i've always harbored this secret hope that she will love thrift stores like me. that she'll *get it*. she'll understand the
concept. she'll make her own clothes. her own style. she'll revel in her unique-ness. she'll sew this and that together like a patchwork quilt and be the grooviest kid because she's her own person.

that and unfortunately we aren't nudists, so we have to wear clothes and they may as well be cheap affordable.

so every time we're in the need of something outgrown, i put on my bravest face and channel my Voice Otherwise Reserved for PottyBreaking humans and House-Breaking dogs. something to the extent of: "hey! i have the coolest idea! lets go to ____ and look for JEANS! won't that be FUN? won't we Pee Our Pants With Enthusiasm?? good grrrrrrrrrl!!"

yah. so that goes over like a lead balloon.

every. single. time.

until.

one particular day, Once Upon A Brilliant Time.

i, in typical awesome mom character, rally my troop of one, after school, announcing we are going shopping for pants. pants without holes in the knees and bum and crotch. pants that have not become high water waders. pants that fit, pants. and the resident red-head, in typical bemoaning character, flops around like a dying fish in the backseat, muttering something about torture.

we get there, and i proceed to spend the next 20 minutes feverishly searching thru racks and bins. even my patience is waning thin. but by this point, it has become my mission. my fist-pounding "principle of the matter". we will find pants, so help me and the little baby Jesus, we will find pants.

my child is no help. everything i find remotely suitable, she has some ridiculous rebuke for. things like: "its too tight.... its too loose.... mama? this one has a rip...."

eesh. details.

i had finally reached the end. i could feel it, my sanity, teetering ever so precariously on the edge of oblivion. bella kicks me while i'm down, with a "why do we hafta shop here, anyway."

and like a bloodied, match-weary prize fighter miraculously, against all odds, getting that 2nd wind, i looked my 8 year old in the eye and without so much as a blink, i said:

"because, bella? in this family we recycle."

and as i blazed ahead on that trail of improv passion for our recycling brothers and sisters, my daughter stood there, mouth dropped open. oh i could see the pride and adoration in her face. it was tangible now, as i sang the praises of the lost and forgotten garment. as i raised it up from the proverbial dead and draped it lovingly across her shoulders!!

and when i was finished, an elderly woman nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. as my daughter tackled me in a hug, i became a hero, my friends. a hero.

***********************

i was sharing this little story with my sister yesterday and i could just imagine her own adoration of All That Is Me, her mouth dropped open, in awe and respect.

instead, she laughed. a hearty laugh at that, the little nematoad.

and said, "You. Little. Manipulator."

i have just one thing to say to that: you. aaaaaaare. welcome.

happy place simplified

i started this post in an awesome mood, earlier today, satisfied with my lazy day off and how i was choosing to use my time. 'reveling in this incredibly overwhelming brand-spanking-new, fresh joy i've experienced this week. and then my happy got sidelined.

yet, ironically, i'd already decided on my title for this post.

i was going to share with you where i'm at on this road. and where i want to be. the road to my happy place. and tho i got a little sidetracked along the way, that happy place is still very much there.

here's the truth, kids. sometimes i talk too much. sometimes i'm too open. sometimes, i let too much chaos in and i don't let enough chaos out. i don't make the right choices. often, i become overwhelmed in my life with the urge to purge, and often i struggle with the fear of being judged and even accepted. i walk a thin line between being passionate and letting go. i censor myself even as i open my mouth or flex my fingers over the keyboard. you might even think i'm tough, but deep down, i'm just a big pile of mush. i've dealt with strong depression over the last few years and i'm aware that i don't rely on my God nearly enough. i don't smile enough. i don't laugh enough. that joy that i once had so freely is not always so forthcoming. some days i feel incompetent and completely incapable. i feel that there are expectations of me that i consistently fail in. standards that i don't meet.

i struggle with the fear of abandonment, most of all. the overwhelming fear that you won't approve or accept me. that if you knew all the ugly in me, you'd turn away. that i won't fit in. in to your rules, your guidelines. your expectations. i have felt this my whole life. my whole life, i have always looked at life as the one on the outside looking in.

but this is me. and it is all of me. and all that i can give. my heart and spirit splayed open with all my faults and frailties and imperfections. and i give that part of myself freely. because i am imperfect and this road that i'm on is not always clear. and the one and only true thing i know, is that God is right here with me holding me up when i don't think i can stand on my own anymore.

and i share this struggle openly as my humble gift to you.

i guess i needed those tears today. that time of grief maybe i needed, as a gentle reminder that Gods eyes are the only ones i need to be looking into for approval.

nevertheless, i left to pick up bella in tears over words. over my interpretation of words. over the judgement i felt was placed on those words.

i dried my eyes just in time to have her teacher meet me at the door with a run-down of my rotten childs' excursions today. so i got back in the car more defeated than when i came. we drove home and i immediately decided we were taking the dogs for a brisk walk. and i do mean brisk. bella asked why i was being quiet...i guess she couldn't hear the shouting match going on in my head.

but i calmed down and came home and opened up my bible, which led me to proverbs 27. whoo baby, that's full of some stuff, yah?

and then i moved on to my devotionals.

one of them is "God Calling". i opened it up this afternoon & read :

as your days are, so will your strength be

i have promised that for every day you live, that strength will be given to you. do not fear. face each difficulty, sure that the wisdom and strength will be there. claim it. rely on me to keep my promise about this. in my universe, for every task i give on of my children, there is set aside all that is necesary for its performance. so why fear. why doubt?

when God places a burden on you, He places His arms underneath you.

the next was out of streams in the desert : The Brightest Colors

"It is good for me that I have been afflicted" (Ps. 119:71).

It is a remarkable circumstance that the most brilliant colors of plants are to be seen on the highest mountains, in spots that are most exposed to the wildest weather. The brightest lichens and mosses, the loveliest gems of wild flowers, abound far up on the bleak, storm-scalped peak.

One of the richest displays of organic coloring I ever beheld was near the summit of Mount Chenebettaz, a hill about 10,000 feet high, immediately above the great St. Bernard Hospice. The whole face of an extensive rock was covered with a most vivid yellow lichen which shone in the sunshine like the golden battlement of an enchanted castle.

There, in that lofty region, amid the most frowning desolation, exposed to the fiercest tempest of the sky, this lichen exhibited a glory of color such as it never showed in the sheltered valley. I have two specimens of the same lichen before me while I write these lines, one from the great St. Bernard, and the other from the wall of a Scottish castle, deeply embossed among sycamore trees; and the difference in point of form and coloring between them is most striking.

The specimen nurtured amid the wild storms of the mountain peak is of a lovely primrose hue, and is smooth in texture and complete in outline, while the specimen nurtured amid the soft airs and the delicate showers of the lowland valley is of a dim rusty hue, and is scurfy in texture, and broken in outline.

And is it not so with the Christian who is afflicted, tempest-tossed, and not comforted? Till the storms and vicissitudes of God's providence beat upon him again and again, his character appears marred and clouded; but trials clear away the obscurity, perfect the outlines of his disposition, and give brightness and blessing to his life.

i don't know about you, but i needed that. and in keeping with my goosfrabba moment, you should all take a minute and meditate with me. so while you're thinking on all these things, go and listen to this song and chill out with me. courtesy of the delightfully talented zefrank , of which recommendation i, of course, credit the the ever wonderful jen lemen .