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you know those daaaaaays when everyone around you is full of optimism and over the top cheerfulness and wisdom with which to impart upon you in your moment of crisis?

and thats all well and fine, except your receptors are totally stuck on sarcasm and every nice thing thats said, you grit your teeth and bite your tongue in the middle of a "but..." because if one more nice person says "i know what you mean/feel/are going through, etc..." you might not be able to stop yourself from peeing on their foot, because its YOU. you're hurt, you're angry, you're scared and life's not fair and you can't do a darned thing about it.

you know thoooooose kind of days?

yah.

me too.

polish poker

its early on a rainy sunday morning. i skipped church this morning and now i'm paying for it, unable to sleep in. i'm mostly trying to procrastinate and not do what i'm supposed to be doing around here, and the reason i'm home today anyway.

yesterday was a steaming, stinking pile of poo. for those of you with your brilliant, well-mannered, respectful, adorable, pleasant little rays of sunshine and drops of sugary dew, you may want to just skip over the next little bit, but i'm here to tell all you not-yet-moms out there that there will be moments in motherhood when you may or may not seriously consider the finer points of an exorcism.

this is precisely why God will choose to let them look so adorable in their sleep. to give you momentary lapses of consciousness.

i'm kickin' it real, kids. so brace yourselves. i'm about to admit i'm not perfect.

we've had the most trying time with bella over this past year. and there are moments that find me utterly exhausted beyond any and all comprehension, when trying to deal with her unexpected outbursts and behaviors. we're not talking simple stuff and you don't need to understand, other than to nodd your head and pretend. even i find it amazing that i can somehow seamlessly maneuver around the behavioral issues and aggressions of the severely retarded in my line of work, yet cannot seem to grasp a common ground with my daughter. i am a master of blocking and redirecting and repetition in my job. but my little girl can cut me to the quick.

any mother that has a child with add, adhd, autism or a myriad of other titles that include in their side-effects, simultaneous super-human willfullness and stinking rotten awfullness, will know and understand my exasperation. i'm tickled to death for you if you've never had to deal with this issue. but lets talk about me, right now. me, me, me. and for me, its a serious blow to my ego, every time i can't successfully handle just such an episode. motherhood, in and of itself, is this crazy mix of absolute joy and heart wrenching agony at times. and add a little pinch of something else and you're on the fast track to a gin and tonic, baby. calgon is for wimps.

you try so danged hard to hold steady, be firm, give that tough love. guide them in the way they should go and some days, you just don't have it in you. some days, its just too hard. and a little too easy to get completely overwhelmed. its embaressing, its rotten. its not fair. its crap.

so yesterday, my insane parenting capabilities found me bursting into tears.

i know. i know. i totally rock. in a far out way.

bella was on a rampage yesterday morning and i was simply the guy in her way and unfortunately for both of us, all this crazy stress i've allowed myself to get swallowed up by lately? totally bit me on the butt. and then jasons mom showed up at the tail-end, and i'm all a sniveling snot-nosed pile of poo, waving the white flag and crying for my mommy.

so. my solution? i've totally decided to give up adulthood. quitting cold-turkey today.

its way too fattening anyway.

sigh.

when linda and bella drove off, i collapsed on the bed in ridiculous, uncontrollable sobbing. and then.....my darling, insufferable husband, in all his goodness and mercy and wisdom, sat down gently beside me and rubbed my back for a moment before leaning in to whisper:

"so..... you wanna try for another one?"

instead, since this is a family show, we decided to get lost for a little while and meandered up thru north carolina. we actually did get lost. and more than once. but the great thing about north carolina is that getting lost is quite literally, a beautiful thing.

and no, i don't have any pictures to share, because of course i brought the camera but forgot i had no batteries since i'd swapped them out this week to fix a bath fish emergency. anyway. trust me, its beautiful. we eventually made it up to hot springs where we sat right here for an hour yesterday and sweated out some poisons. we also may or may not have made out. i also may or may not have slipped a disc or began a slow and steady brain hemmorage when trying to pull the danged plug out, and i slipped and cracked the back of my head, and what i'm pretty sure is whats left of my entiral spinal column like the graceful fawn that i am, at the end of our blissful hour. i was totally ready to sue, when jason pointed out that yes, they actually did have posted signs stating the steps are "slippery when wet".

foiled again.

as an aside, some day..... when i'm an old gray mare with a savings account and steady blood pressure with no heart palpitations or the possibility that i might be pregnant... i've decided i'm totally gonna have a hot tub. i think i could live in a cardboard box if i at least had a hot tub to soak in every night.

anyway. while we were up there getting lost in the woods, we had some really deep discussions and i/we think i've decided i will attempt the net pre-test. i say this loosely, because the difference between thinking and doing? are on totally opposite ends of the spectrum. and i was sitting here just now? looking at algebra-made-simple? and practice test questions? and i'm pretty sure i heard my brain explode.

this is a really daunting thing for me, if i do this. i don't think you quite understand. but what i find even more complex, is that i think i need to do this. for me.

so anyway. i have alot of deadlines and alot of thinking and cramming to do, since i've waited til the 11th hour. beginning with tomorrow, actually. and i find myself not a little scared. i'm not one of these young whipper-snappers out here. at 32, my retention has been reduced to that of weight. not calculations, if you get my drift. i'm worried about keeping up and rockin' steady and understanding really any of it, when right now, it looks like ancient arabic.

so patience, my pets, if i have minor freak-outs around here in the next little while, yah?

part deux

its silly, really. i suddenly realized today that i didn't even think about my half birthday on the 16th. and then i was momentarily downhearted that mom or kim hadn't either. and then i remembered that i totally forgot kims too.

and i recognized with stunning clarity, might i add, that i suck.

unfortunately, that hasn't been a FIRST this week.

even more disheartening, is that this humbling in the form of wincing embaressment, has been years in the making. i could write a book, with all my mishaps along the way. remind me to share about that kindergarten christmas gift exchange, when i inadvertently swapped out a 5 year olds super cool transformer car for my girlfriends retro, somewhat risque journal and some toe socks. with God as my witness.

rather unfortunately, the humbling of moi has been an ongoing theme this week as well. you may remember my hope story a few blog entries ago.... all that pent up frustration and such. well, i've dreaded every monday morning since, knowing its her i have to face. so imagine my surprise when this monday, things were just a little different. she was actually trying. she was giving a valiant effort in this job that can be extremely demanding, and was even attempting a go at pleasantries.

so i was caught off-guard on the drive to the occupational center, when she abruptly asked me why i had "poisoned opinions" about her. which is a really long, uninteresting story whereupon i opened my mouth when i shouldn't have. what? you're not surprised? bleh. it just so happens, that me getting it out here in this forum wasn't enough for me. nooooo, i just had to confide in a coworker because i'd been so frustrated. afterwards, i'd calmed down and decided that i just needed to "let it be". i'd decided that hope would do things her way and if it wasn't the right way, well the truth would find her out, in its own time.

unfortunately for me, said coworker got into a little, completely unrelated war of words with this hope, and in her exasperation, my confidence was spilled like wine on a white carpet, baby.

now. here's the thing. was i justified in my frustration? absolutely, yes. she'd been unbearably rude, uncouth, downright rotten to me. but the truth is, i should've just kept my mouth shut. it was completely unprofessional for me to whine or tattle to anyone else. so when she cornered me with that question, i had to suck my face and apologize to her, even tho i wanted to shout in total maturity, "but you hurt my feelings!!!!"

boy, was that a rotten, not to mention uncomfortable few minutes out of my life. gotta love being humbled.

bella had vbs all last week and it just so happened that their bible study kinda loosely corelated with a little something i've been trying to work with her on lately. we've been looking at the *fruits of the spirit* and i've been trying to instill the importance of a lovely, sweet spirit, rather than an ugly one. also, the "catching more flies with honey than poo" thing. which has more to do with a bully at the boys and girls club than a bible story but you get my drift.

i kinda got a good dose of reality myself on that one. i'd completely and inadvertently hurt hope , blinded by my own wounded feelings. i'd like to say it was an unnecessary ordeal, but i don't think it was. i think we both needed the time to sit together and chat. thankfully those few uncomfortable moments quickly turned to a gentle, almost kinship, once we took the time to speak and listen.

i discovered she's been utterly stressed out with work and school full-time and her new marriage to a doctor that travels the world without her right now. that her bad attitude had nothing to do with me and everything to do with her own struggles that weekend. turns out, i was just the girl in the way.

i've been catching up here and there with you all tonite. always amazed by you precious friends out there in internet land. i share in your stories...your writing....and i feel like you're my neighbor, come to sit on the porch a spell, to discuss this crazy universal thing we call living. it makes me feel close when i feel distanced from many things in life these days. and i need that. i need to be inspired and reminded of worse things and much, much better things.

i've felt set apart, lately, in a sense. and i know that i could attempt my steps with a little more gusto in this tango we know to be *close relationships*. but i've allowed myself to feel kind of pushed aside. out of synch, or focus. off-key, off tempo.

phone calls and conversations that take place in their own time and not my own. so i hang back, not unlike a shy child on the first day of school. after work today, i came home and i called my mom. i forgot she was busy with other things but being pushed aside, albeit completely inadvertently, still came with a tiny sting.

the real truth is that i think God was trying to put in a call and i just wanted the voicemail to pick up.

my tv substitute of late, in absence of "american idol" has become, surprisingly, "so you think you can dance". once a week, we sit down together and catch up with the miracle that is our free tivo. and once a week, i'm again amazed that this is the show that connects us in this strange way. so diverse, and i find myself totally falling in love with several of the couples. their joy and passion for their craft is incredible and they express it with literally every fiber of their being.

you know how songs get stuck in your head? lately mine has been "bleeding love" by leona lewis. for a good time, scroll down and have a listen. then totally try to accapella to that puppy.

here's another song i'm loving. "rememer when" by alan jackson. i don't particularly dig country music but this song has a deeper meaning when you realize that behind it, is a very real, very painful story and a wife that still holds his hand. you should read their book.

ugh. so here's the real reason i'm up at 1:30 in the morning. i don't know what direction i'm running in these days, kiddos.

i feel this urgency. this pressure to do something *great* and to do it now. that the time for waiting is over and if i don't jump now, i never will. i have zero patience or tolerance, and as mentioned in my last post, running on a very little trust or faith. its a perilous, tangled path that i struggle to push through.

i don't know what to do about school. as my deadline fast approaches, i feel so conflicted on this topic. i think for so much of my life, my biggest dream has been to be free. when i was younger, i had so many idealistic dreams of the woman i would become. the kind of mom i'd be. the model wife. and there were moments along the way when i felt utter abandon and peace with where i was and who i am. when i was spiritually content.

i can't say that my dreams have been shattered. perhaps scattered. a little worn around the edges.

i've longed for a purpose...MY purpose over the past few years. i'd spent a long time running, for lack of a better definition. and i'd been beaten down pretty hard in the process. there was the dissapointment and the hurt and abandonment and betrayal. there was losing everything but the roof over our head. so, sooo much loss. and then there was the valiant leap of faith and the 2nd guessing and the jumping the gun. there were the bad choices and the quiet fade. the rape. there was silence. almost deafening.

and in the midst of all of this, there was a brief, still moment of absolute peace and grace and serene, perfect simplicity.

i didn't feel abandoned by God. but i felt distanced. largely self-induced, meaning i let myself get in the way. i've wanted that closeness back, while still pushing away. in my hurt and fears, i've asked for comfort and guidance, but then closed my eyes and put my headphones on.

my marriage has been not unlike a battered ship upon the waves, these past couple of years. and yet, i love this. i love this man. i love what we have struggled for and built together. i love what we have lost and what we have gained. what God has blessed us richly, for. i love the story we both share in writing.

jason and i come from 2 very different worlds and this has been a struggle in and of itself. jason struggles with a self worth, when i need so desperately to be able to lean on him. and i struggle with *letting it go. letting it be. laying it down*, when i have always been that person to run to. to catch us when we fall. i've mentioned that "backpack of crap" before. that image of the backpack filled to the brim with all the *stuff* that i want to lay down at Gods feet but always manage to pick it back up, as if to say i don't think the Big Guy can hack it.

today, i took flow for a drive. since becoming her PA, i think i've created a little bit of a monster. all of a sudden, my hard work has paid off and my severely retarded, previously in an almost catatonic state, 72 year old is suddenly spry and full of spunk, helping me around the house and even in the most mundane tasks. she wants to go shopping and help cook and fold laundry and go for drives. its been both a joy and an exasperation. but today was a good day for a drive, and found us turning left out of the driveway and heading for cherokee national forest. i turned the radio on, per her request, and she hummed along until, as per usual, she drifted off to sleep.

i look for signs in things. to me, its like God speaking. i'm probably totally wrong and He's having a great deal of fun at my expense but for the sake of my sanity, we'll say that's ok.

today, driving over the winding roads through the forest, "the dance" by garth brooks came on. i was instantly transported to my freshman year in high-school, when a boy in my class was tragically killed in a freak bull riding incident. the girls in our chorus sang that song at his funeral, and it was fitting for many reasons. he'd loved to rodeo and fought hard to bull ride, against his parents wishes. his death was such a loss. but he died, doing what he loved. what he was meant to do. to this day, i can't hear that song without tearing up.

and i wondered if it meant anything for me, today.

i want my life to be meaningful. simple. joyful. this is the kind of woman i strive to be. with wisdom and integrity, understanding, and an unconditional love. the bummer, is that you have to experience some tough stuff to get there, i think.

i'm at a place in my life, where i stand on the threshhold of some really big choices. you have these choices in life.... and i believe that even the wrong ones, have the potential to eventually bring you upright. but how much time do you spend in the process, worrying about the way things might be. i'm going thru kind of a hard spot right now. and i've asked that God literally tell me yes or no. without going into any more detail than that....i could do with a hug or two along the way.

hubba bubba

bella learned to blow bubbles today. and in an 8 year olds eyes, this is like moving a mountain. a moment of silence, in respect.

when you're gone for awhile, whether it be physically or relatively, you suddenly find yourself with so much to say, yet no idea how to say it, no?

what i will say, is these days, your comments mean the world to me. time seems to fly by at breakneck speed and i'm always running to catch up. i don't seem to have enough time in the day or the privacy to enjoy the time i do. here's what i think.... realistically, domestic goddesses of the internet out there really don't exist. what with running a business and homeschooling 13 kids while nursing twins and growing organic vegetables and cattle wrangling and public speaking events and then finding the time to still look perky and post daily photos and write up-to-the-minute posts. its all a conspiracy to make moms like me, lets say, spontaneously combust.

in the words of ozzy, "i love you all. but you're all (insert expletive of your choice here) mad."

what i'd love, would be to go away for a romantic evening in a tent. on a mountain. by a stream. and sleep for 72 hours. but the forecast calls for rain and knowing my luck, the tent would have a pin-hole tear and i'd be drowned in my sleep or some rare black bear would smell my beef jerky and maul me while i'm trying to pee gracefully on a tree.

this week:

myrtle the turtle died. while we were watching "the bucket list", which, coincidentally, i bought for my dad as a fathers day present, that i have yet to send.

sigh.

and so jason stood awkwardly in the kitchen while i cried huge alligator tears over the meaning of life and her tiny dead shell and then the Irony Of It All.

i realized while swimming saturday afternoon, that i've been with jason for a decade. ten years. through his 20's. to me, this is monumental. jason, in turn, discovered i can't swim. that although mom tells me she put me in lessons as a child, its true what they say: if ya don't use it, ya lose it. and all this time, he just thought i liked to dog paddle.

my baby turned 8 years old. i cannot begin to tell you the emotion behind that.

our "joint session" in therapy never happened, and again, i find myself completely frustrated with this (stupid) agency. and the frustration is both merited and legitimate. i feel like the only good thing she's done for me besides help me cry, is loan me "for women only" by shaunti feldhahn. all that "what you need to know about the inner lives of men" type stuff.... and usually i don't go for that kind of thing, but its actually been a really insightful, fantastic little read. and its put some things in perspective in my marriage.

for example, i'd had a spectacularly craptastic day last wednesday. jason and i had talked about the *school thing* and the topic had been left at a "lets just wait and see"kind of place. which i hate, incidentally. wednesday, in my mind, had been a "lets DO this" goal. i was going to submit my application, get my school grant stuff taken care of, etc...and now, well now, i had nothin. so after a hideous day at work, i found myself driving to a hair salon that i'd heard was cheap and before you know it, i heard myself uttering the fatal words, "do me."

now, if you know me in real life, you know what a hilarious concept that is for me. i've actually had the conversation with God that i don't think "breast cancer is for me" cuz i have a deep affection for both my busomage and my hair. and its not even that my hair is super cool. its just that i like it. and i like it a certain way. even if that way means something along the lines of "stuck in the 80's." going to the hair salon, for me, is scarier and more dreaded than going to the gynocologist.

anyway. thank God my guardian fashion angel was on duty, or at least i like to think so. because the stylist was rockin and instead of rolling her eyes at what i can only imagine is the most dreaded thing a customer can say to you, she was excited at the opportunity and didn't even 2nd guess me, which was really great cuz i probably would've baled.

so i walked out 30 minutes later and $13 poorer with an awesome hair cut and let me tell you, i felt like some sexy stuff, ok? and then you know that look you get when you're smiling cuz you're in a totally awesome moment and then someone tells you they ran over your dog and your house accidentally exploded and you're over-drawn at the bank and by the way, you look fat in those jeans? yah, me neither, but i'm pretty sure i had the *look* nailed down by the end of the day after drama, drama, drama and nobody, NObody had noticed my hair. actually, my darling *flow* was the only one. i went to work totally defeated the next morning and i woke her up with a kiss like i always do, and she smiled and sat up and looked at me really hard and then felt my hair, chattering away, like she does. and i knew that she knew and i wanted to cry.

blargh.

so friday night, we're laying in bed, right. and we're talking about the week and some really big stuff going on in our lives and i was getting more and more frustrated by the minute,with jason, and finally i blurted out, "do you even like my hair?"

as they say in the south, "bless his heart". there was stunned silence for a moment before jason tentatively whispered, "i always like your hair?"

and drama queen that i am, burst into tears and had a massive melt-down, 2 year old style. rockin' it old school, kids. ohhhh yeah.

see.... i'd told myself it wasn't a big deal and he'd notice eventually or even if he didn't, it shouldn't matter. that i wasn't going to say anything because how stupid is that. and here i was, bawling that he "hadn't even noticed and i feel like people just look right through me. that they don't SEE me."

wow. harboring a little pity party, were we.

well he felt like crap and then i felt like crap and here's where the book helps me tell you why. i've always felt its wrong of women to put men in those situations. why didn't i just ask him on wednesday if he "liked my haircut". even if he hadn't noticed, he wouldn't have been left guessing or worse yet, feel like he let me down. he could've saved face without my even knowing and we'd both have been happy.

anyway. its totally God's fault that He made men so intricately complicated. i'm not even going there.

i love jason. but we've been thru some really really tough and trying times. and trust has been a very fragile thing. for me, trust is soooooo unbelievably hard. i've been burned,and burned bad.

so handing over the proverbial reigns and trusting? i'd rather birth a porcupine. in a vat of acid.

i feel like i bate jason unintentionally sometimes. i admit i don't always do such a great job at the trusting stuff. even over simple things, like dishes. he tells me he'll "wash the dishes if i put them away".

now, this is a good compromise in theory. but this plan has worked only twice. here's what happens: i get tired of waiting for him when his idea of washing the dishes is once a week. meanwhile, my ocd eyeballs are twitching and i finally just do it myself.

this largely represents our relationship, and is a source of great frustration for my husband. the thing is, i don't *think* my standards are too high. i have no problem communicating what i'd like. what i need. what i seriously must have to coexist successfully!! i could communicate enough for 10 of us.

he, however, does not. he has a severe allergic reaction to the term "lets talk" and becomes catatonic. maybe he drools. i don't know.

anyway, i can't imagine why, what with my sweet spirt and lovely ways, in just such circumstances. and surprisingly, the book is no help on this subject other than maybe i'm not "going about it the right way" or some such nonsense. but darlings, i'm in crisis mode right now, ok?

so if you'd like to pray or send me a hug-a-gram or light a candle or eat some rocky road for me right about now, i'd be much obliged.

i'll explain why, in my next post. stay tuned.

testify

i thought i had a whole gazoogle of things to share here last week, but again, with the forgetting to save files and such. such is me.

turns out, it wasn't that great of a read. mostly, i was gonna talk about my really super rotten horrible mood and the black cloud with the pull chain that i evidently jimmy-rigged with some chicken wire over-head, and carried around everywhere i went. that, and about my therapy session, whereupon i realized my really super rotten horrible mood wasn't invisible.

poop.

meanwhile, all that heat and yuck and sweaty filth of the last week was pleasantly cooled down and washed away by the rain we got over the weekend, which i find fabulous. i met some new friends ~ such a delightful mix of the south and across the pond, to boot. we grilled out early for fathers day and i'm working on some new aprons. i'm beyond excited.

and now, in the spirit of sharing, i'm going to let you in on a little secret.

jason threads my sewing machine.

i LOVE to craft. its just the *getting started* part that's a pain in my patoot. and after all my years in home-ec, and having the greatest teacher/example in my own mother, who would be embaressed to claim me right now, i have discovered i didn't retain a darn thing. nope. nothin in my noggin.

thankfully, my darling husband with the bulging biceps and his thick awkward fingers and his bull-in-a-china shop ways, is patient enough with me to take care of all the tiny little details for me in life.

things like threading my sewing machine.

which, for me, is a good thing. because without him, the greasy teenager forgetting to throw in my condiments at mcdees could totally set me off the edge. after all, its not every day i can afford the dollar menu, so no scrimping on the ketchup.

we finally saw *kung fu panda*, and let me just say, its an absolutely lovely film. so many great one-liners and life-lessons, such as "there IS not secret ingredient". we took bella to the drive in theatre as an early birthday surprise and she loved it. you will too.

i had plans for this weekend. big, big plans that included receiving a certain stimulus check and the myriad of glorious ways in which it could be used. i even had a somewhat ridiculously stupid wager with God on aforementioned check. turns out He wasn't overly amused, so decided not to meet me half-way on this one at ALL. which was sort of a bummer, seeing as how i was realllllly giving a half-hearted attempt at faith and all. He's a tough cookie some days, that Guy.

fathers day started out kinda dissapointing, but ended up being a really, really great day. I didn't have anything special for jason, which is silly to feel bad about in the big scheme of things, but i think its human nature to want that little extra special something, ya know? i think even men feel that. we were both kinda bummed after the week we'd had, so when bella snuck into bed with us yesterday morning with her homemade presents, jason teared up. my personal favorite was a large rock that bella had painted and glittered up & wrote "my dad rocks" on the top. heheh...she's awsome some days. which makes those terrible days easier to survive, when the evil comes out of those red roots.

a predominately large reason for my spectacularly bad mood last week had to do with lack of money or what i felt/anticipated/assumed to be a lack of money. the week was long and tedious with lots of rotten obstacles thrown in and each day was spent dreading coming home to a note or a phone call, cussing me out at either the bank or the landlords' office. but apparently, due to the change in ownership with our rental agency, they're not depositing rent checks til this week. i can't tell you how blown away i was and am by this. God absolutely provided for us, despite my tinier than a mustard seed amount of faith. not to mention that He sent our stimulus check in todays' mail too.

my God rocks your socks off.