And then the wheels came off.

We sailed right into the first week of school, all sunshine and roses and good attitudes and willingness to learn and try new things.

Wait. No. That wasn't us.

We stumbled into a new school year, still bleary-eyed from summer travels, bundles of nerves over each kid moving up to new buildings, a little attitude a la teen boy and preteen girly thrown in the mix.

By Day 3 we all overslept and when Rachel woke me up at the precise time we should've been heading out the door to the bus stop I said "screw it" and set my alarm for 45 minutes later so I could snooze a little more and still have at least enough time to make myself a piece of toast to eat while I drove them to school.

Some days I feel like I really suck at this parenting thing. I want to tell my kids when I was your age my mom left for work before daylight and I had to get myself up and ready and to the school bus. Every day. All by myself. Oh, and I had to share space with one of my brothers (by the time I was Rachel's age my oldest brother was off to college). Missing the bus was not an option. So why do they think it is? Who gave them the idea that asking mom to make a 40-minute round trip to drop them off at school just because they're tired so they want to sleep for another hour was ok? Me?? The one who would take another hour of sleep over almost anything? Surely not. *ahem*

I admit I have, at times, probably given my children mixed messages. I've been inconsistent. I have called in the troops (daddy) (grandmas and grandpas) when these children have worn me down so far my sanity is hanging by a thread. Other times my resolve is probably a little stronger than it needs to be and I refuse to budge on something that, in the long run, doesn't really matter.

That phrase "choose your battles" comes to mind.

Yeah, I'm not always good at that. But these kids? Oooh, they will make things up to fight about.

There are times - last night was one of them - when the wheels just come right off this buggy and we, the kids and I, careen down into a mess of overtiredness and ugly words and anger and frustration and slammed doors and lots of tears. My survival strategy is to ... well, for the most part I just hold on for dear life. But then I also remember this, too, shall pass, and I think about the good times, the times when there were no angry words, there was no sarcasm, and nobody felt like the world was out to get them.

I remember the small moments. When he squeezed my shoulders on the way out the door for a weekend with the guys. When she helped me bring in everything from the garden, in the dark, the night it was forecast to freeze. When they worked on something - anything - together or listened to music from the same iPod or he taught her something new or she pretended to be interested in what he was telling her about his latest project. Without bickering.

I am so. tired. of the bickering.

So I went to bed last night praying for forgiveness and mercy, and begging God to help me get through another day without further scarring my children. And guess what? The sun came up this morning. We made it to the bus stop with a minute or two to spare, though no one had showered or brushed their teeth and I don't care who knows. Life goes on in all its imperfect glory. Halleluiah.

I'm going to take a nap.

Of Memorial Day and hittin' the road.

It's Memorial Day. I find it hard to express the gratitude, the love, the appreciation I feel for the people who have served our country and lost their lives in the process. That is the ultimate sacrifice ... and the most humbling gift.

We did not attend any Memorial Day services today. We had a quiet day at home. But my mind went back to my trip with Rachel to Washington, D.C., last year. It was so touching to see the war memorials and to be there among so much history. It gave us an even better appreciation for those who serve our great nation.

At the Korean War Memorial.

Thank you.

***

  

Completely unrelated to Memorial Day, I've been having a rough time lately. Somewhere north of being in a funk but not quite feeling myself. I wish I knew what was making me feel this way, because I feel like if I knew what it was I could fix it. Certainly it's a little bit of missing Steve. And some days I'm a bit busier than I'd like to be which gets me all discombobulated, yet the times when I have nothing going on I feel like I should be busy and my brain starts filling the silence with all kinds of junk.

Today I kept my mind and my body busy with clearing out and rearranging my closet. I tried on all my clothes, threw away a few pieces long past their prime and set aside a stack for Goodwill. Why do we keep clothes that don't fit us? For YEARS? I decided I'd rather have the space. I also decided it's time to invest in my wardrobe a bit. I don't need much, but I think I could find a handful of quality pieces to round things out and make me feel a little better about myself when I'm out and about. I'm gonna' keep my eyes open during my travels this summer when I am closer to really good shopping.

Ahh, summer. The kids have six more days of school left, then we're freeeee! I am so looking forward to heading east to spend some time with Steve. I wanna hit the road, have a change of scenery. I'll have a little taste of it this week when I head to Indiana to visit a friend. It'll be a quick trip - just two nights away - but it will be travel time sans children, adult time with a couple of people I adore (and haven't seen in far too long), and a chance to see something other than these four walls I'm livin' in. I do love my home and my family, but there comes a point when I get a little stir-crazy and ready to do something different. I will miss all of it while I'm gone, but I will enjoy the time away.

In the meantime, I made brownies. Isn't that what any slightly-less-than-sane gal would do when she's feeling antsy? And what a shame, the kids don't care for them. (I think the almond extract the recipe called for makes them taste wonky to the kids. I happen to love it.) Guess I'll have to eat the whole batch all by myself.

Or should I say ... the rest of the batch. *ahem*

 

Be still.

It's snowing that perfect kind of snow right now. Snow globe kind of snow. Big, fluffy flakes floating down slowly, landing gently, layer upon layer.

It's perfect for a day like today when I'm feeling reflective. Introspective. When I'm thinking about the Big Picture and wondering (as I do periodically) if I am doing the right things and going in the right direction.

I am incredibly blessed, and for that I am thankful. I am surrounded by people who love me and I know it. I have an amazing husband and two healthy children, a modest home, all the essentials of life and then some. Praise God.

But there are days when something tweaks me. Someone's unkind words swirl around and swoosh down into my ears and rattle around in my brain causing a noise that keeps me awake at night. A mustard seed of doubt grows into a monster the size of which I don't have the energy to fight at 2 a.m. So I refuse the invitation to duel.

Most things appear much better in the light of day. And while my first instinct is to busy myself and turn on the television to drown out the sound of the uglies, I don't. Instead I sit in the quiet and allow myself to breathe, and I wait for those hurtful words or that thing I struggled with to realize my heart and soul are not welcoming environments for their types. Return whence you came, dudes. I don't have time for you.

On days like this I always think of Psalm 46, which talks about God being our fortress even when the world is crashing down around us. Verse 10 reads, "He says, 'Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.'"

Be still. Nothing else matters. In a world that is constantly telling us we should be on the move every minute of every day, it's hard to be still without guilt. But we are commanded to do it. Over the years I have learned, and I continue to learn just how.

Stop the madness. Watch the snow. Be still.

Things are looking better already.

I want chocolate. And DDP.

We have a "perfect storm" this week. It's me.

I'm just (hopefully) coming out of a bout with the flu - the feverish, whole body hurts, coughing up a lung, can't get out of bed kind - and what I would really love, and I don't care whether it would be good for me or not, is a Snickers bar and a Diet Dr. Pepper.

This morning, when I dragged myself out of bed to pick Rachel up from an overnighter with her Girl Scout troop (which I was incredibly sad to miss because of this stupid illness) all I wanted was to stop at Wesco and grab a big cup of cappuccino.

But I can't have coffee, or chocolate, or pop, or anything else containing caffeine, or even any "nighttime-type" medications that would help me sleep. Because late next week I begin allergy testing, and all of that stuff could somehow throw it off. Is what they tell me. Hmph.

So I'm following the rules, but I'm doing it with a grudge. Because seriously? Caffeine in it's many forms is a regular part of my daily life. As is Zyrtec, which I also cannot take this week.

I like to think I can take it like a champ when I'm sick. I'm pretty tough. But tell me I can't have chocolate? When I'm in a weak and emotional state? I'm like a 2-yr-old throwing a tantrum in the grocery store.

Alas, the asthma and/or allergies I've got made breathing these past few days all that harder, so I will do what needs to be done to figure out those underlying issues and take care of them.

Imagine how pissed I'm gonna' be if we find out I'm allergic to chocolate. ::shudder::

Procrastination is biting me in the butt.

We have more fresh snow this morning. It was a pleasant surprise, I can't lie. But it was just a fluffy inch or so ... not enough to hide all the stuff on the patio I haven't put away yet.

I do this every. stinkin. year.

I did at least get the lawn mowed one last time before the weather turned really cold, so our front yard doesn't look like the snow fell on a hay field. But I still have patio furniture and flower pots scattered hither and yon. At least most of them are empty - I did get around to doing that. But every time I walk in or out the front door I am reminded of these half-done projects and it grinds on my nerves. I don't know why I let it bother me so much; it's my own darn fault. I need to use that annoyance as motivation to get it done, though. It looks like temps will be a little warmer this weekend so maybe I'll ask Rachel to bundle up and help me.

One thing I have not been procrastinating on is my Christmas shopping. I'm feeling pretty good about having checked some items off my list, and even got a few of them wrapped today. I've got some Christmas tunes playing and I'm about to pull out some decorations. The more I think about it though, the more I am convinced we should keep the decor very simple this year with the puppy still "exploring" everything/everywhere with his mouth. Gunnar was just at the vet on Monday and he weighed in at 66 pounds. He's five months old and he's huge. His tail alone could take down an 8-foot Christmas tree. So we're going small, fake and on top of a table with the tree, and we'll make it as fabulous as we can. If I have a tree all lit up and my nativity scene set out I'll be happy. I'm really looking forward to doing some crafts and baking and watching Christmas movies with the kids leading up to their holiday break from school. And hopefully Steve will have a nice long break from work over the holidays, too.

My goal is to have a relaxing and enjoyable Christmas season ... starting now!

Clean Slate Sunday: 1.15.12 edition

Whew. I am in dire need of that clean slate this week. I feel like I am going in a hundred different directions and getting nowhere fast.

Or not moving at all. And getting nowhere fast.

Whichever.

I'm tired. I started typing out all the things I attribute my exhaustion to, but then I felt like a wuss. Or a whiner. And nobody likes a whiner.

Truth is we just have a lot going on. The kids are active, Steve is settling into a new job, and I'm getting used to having a regular chunk of time committed to a job, too. Although I wouldn't really call it a "job" ... I'm babysitting three days a week for some friends. I am happy to help them out and their toddler is an absolute joy ... but a toddler, nonetheless. I had forgotten how busy little ones can be at that age. I mean, I remember, but I'm older than I was when I was chasing my own kids around. That sure makes a difference. And after almost four years of being a stay-at-home mom, I'm accustomed to having my weekdays to myself during the school year.

So, yeah, it's just life. Perhaps I got way too into the relaxation of Christmas break and having Steve here and I'm still trying to pull myself out of it. My body wants to sleep in every morning, nap and eat and nap during the day, and do lots of nothing in between. My brain, on the other hand, has other plans and works overtime making lists of what needs to be done. Like laundry. Dinner. Taking the dog out. Grocery shopping. Dentist appointments. All that good stuff.

No lists tonight, though. I'm going to bed early and I'm taking a book with me. I plan to distract myself with whatever the story is until I fall asleep.

Tomorrow is a new day. A chance to start fresh. Bring it, Monday!

I have a love/hate relationship with dollar stores.

Particularly places like Dollar Tree where everything really is $1.

Last week at the lovely Dollar Tree I spent $5 (plus 30 cents tax) which meant I went home with ... you guessed it: five items.

Here's what I bought. Because I know you're dying to know what people buy at the dollar store.

1. A 3-pack of plastic ramekins (like what your mayo-on-the-side comes in at a restaurant). I bought some of these a while ago for the kids because they don't like their dipping sauces or ketchup or whatever touching their other food. Nevermind that they eventually dip said food into the sauce anyway. Listen, for $1 I found a way to avoid at least one dinnertime grumble, so I'm happy. They're also nice to portion out snacks so the whole bag of goldfish crackers doesn't get eaten in one sitting. Love.

2. Multiplication flashcards for Rachel. Because she had a homework assignment to make or buy some by Monday, and it was worth scrounging around for spare change to not have to make them. Love. Even if they do have Disney princesses on them.

3-4. Wire ribbon! In my favorite color blue ... and I love that the two rolls I picked up are winter-y instead of specifically Christmas-y so I can keep the bows I make with them up long after the holiday. Two dollars got me two different patterns, three yards each. Love.

5. Battery-powered lights. Love!

I've always wanted some sort of wreath or other door ornament with LIGHTS in it.
Here it's on the closet door in our entryway because when I put it on the front door the lights quit working.

I thought maybe it was the cold.

Pretty, huh? Ever since I was a kid I have loved to squint at the Christmas tree so the "focus" becomes the glowing lights ... and a blurry, but colorful background.

Am I the only one who does that?

Oh.

Anywho, those battery powered lights? Worked for about an hour after I brought them inside. Hate! Dislike very much!

Grrr. Stupid mass-produced-in-China pieces o' crap. Really. I should have known better. Not only did I waste a buck, now I'm contributing more junk to a landfill.

I have now created a rule about the dollar store: NO electronics.

I still love it though. Most of the time.

Are you a dollar store shopper? I'd love to hear about what you seek out ... or if browsing is just a time waster ... or if you avoid the places at all costs.

Shitcanned.

I've had just over a day to process all this, so here it is.

Steve was fired. Let go. Cut loose.

Was it related to the economy? No. Work performance? Absolutely not.

Steve lost his job because of personal differences with the company's corporate blowhards. Because he is, in their words, a "disgruntled employee."

WHO DOES THAT?? What is this, the sixth grade?

Listen. We have a son who will turn 13 years old tomorrow. He's in middle school. Sam is at a point when we are teaching him it is a fact of life that he will encounter difficult people. That's just how the world works. We tell him it is his job to always handle himself appropriately and do his best to be kind and respectful to others, no matter how badly their personalities may clash. Sometimes it is helpful to simply walk away, but you can't always just gather up your toys and go home.

Unhappy relationships are tough, but even the best of relationships take work to maintain.

Steve has said working for this company is like being in a bad marriage; nobody communicates, and everybody blames someone else for any infraction.

My husband tried. For months he has set a positive example by going straight to the sources of gripes and grumbles and insisting on working through issues so everyone can move on. In his supervisory role he was probably too kind at times, giving second (or third or fourth) chances and plenty of corrective instruction in order to keep people working.

But he didn't buy into the corporate BS. He is a man of high morals and is driven by things far greater than money: Integrity. Kindness. Family. That's what I see. If you ask him? He was taught to do things the right way - to do the right thing - no matter who was or wasn't watching.

As it turns out, his former employer talks a great talk about putting people first, but their follow-through stinks. In fact, the company's motto is People first 24/7. In our house we've added to it a little: People first 24/7. Unless you're not the right people.

In an interesting twist, my brother worked for the same company, on the same crew as Steve. They fired him, too.

Oh yes they did.

WHO DOES THAT???

In the grand scheme of things we will come out on top. Today I am angry and feeling defensive, yes. (And if Steve wasn't disgruntled before, he sure is now!) Because in 17 years of working in the pipeline industry - and I mean working, putting pipe in the ground, operating equipment, not giving orders or pushing papers from an office - Steve has never come close to being fired. Ever. Has he butted heads with some higher-ups? Of course he has! That's life. The people who have to keep everything within budget and on deadline don't always see eye-to-eye with the folks who have to stand knee-deep in the mud with rain pouring down while they try to bail out the hole so they can work. That's just how it goes. But each has their job to do and most adults can learn to overlook their differences and work alongside each other toward a common goal.

So yeah. I'm pissed off that of all the crappy employees they could have chosen to weed out, they picked two of the best workers in the field. Apparently your work ethic means nothing if you refuse to drink the Kool-Aid.

Whatever. Life goes on. The natural gas industry is a great one to be in these days. Business is booming and it won't be long before both of these guys have settled into new jobs, hopefully far, far away from the corporate madness. The paychecks might be a little slimmer but as long as we can feed our family and keep the bills paid, we're good.

Yesterday I teetered briefly on the edge of madness just thinking about how we'll make it through the next few weeks. Between Steve having some time off between work projects, then coming home to be with his dad during brain surgery, and now being cut loose altogether, we are scraping the bottom of the barrel.

But then the phone started ringing ... friends sent messages of support ... prayer warriors added us to their lists ... and so many people we love collectively took my face in their hands and forced me to focus on what is important: Steve. Sam. Rachel. Me. Our faith. Our family and friends. We are warm and well fed, and we have much for which to be thankful. Praise God.

I'm no Pollyanna, but I can say with confidence today that I know everything will be OK.

Time to circle the wagons.

I am angry.

I'm hurt and feeling defensive of my family and I wish I could tell you all about it but now isn't the right time, so could I just ask you to pray for us?

Know that my marriage is strong and that in itself will sustain us through much. We are healthy (well, OK, some might question my mental state but that's nothing new) and our children are fine. We have hit a roadblock but we will push through it together. And, God willing, we'll come out stronger on the other side.

 Today? Some inspiration. Turn it up, baby.



When the darkness tries to get me
There's a light that just won't let me
It might take my pride, tears may fill my eyes
But I'll stand back up.

The antidote to crabby.

Do you know the best way to remind yourself what fun it can be to have children?

Spend a little time with a little one.

I helped out some friends today by watching their little boy for a few hours. At 18 months old, he is still young enough to be fascinated by someone tossing him a ball, playing peek-a-boo, looking at pictures of puppies, and finding a box of fruity Cheerios in the kitchen cabinet.

Sure, he can be demanding like any other child. But all he wants is for you to chase him down the hallway or pull a favored toy out from under a chair. And he will smile and wrap his little arms around your neck when you do.

I have a few minutes of peace and quiet before my own children come home from school. I'm going to enjoy every second of it while I remember the days when we laughed at peek-a-boo and they were happy just to be in the same room with me.

Clean Slate Sunday: 10.16.11 edition

Today is one of those days when I am so thankful for the promise of a fresh start tomorrow.

I started my day with teeth clenched, upset at both the kids. On the drive to church I tried to take a few deep breaths and adjust my attitude, but it seemed like the more I tried, the more determined my offspring were to get under my skin.

I've been on the receiving end of more than my fair share of attitude lately and I'm sick of feeling like an emotional punching bag. Oh believe me, I don't just roll over and take it. But no amount of gentle correcting, sternness, ignoring it, yelling, privileges revoked or good behaviors rewarded makes any lasting impact. And let's face it - they outnumber me.

I waited years for my one boy and one girl to get to a point where they were more friends than rivals.

Well. Here we are.

How can I be unhappy that they are getting along more than not these days? I'll tell you how: they're common interest seems to be attacking me. There's so much attitude and drama in this house lately I feel like someone plunked me down in the middle of an episode of Toddlers & Tiaras.

It's exhausting.

I tried several times today to start from scratch - forgive them (even though they hadn't apologized), and let it go. Apparently they didn't get that memo. Probably because they don't listen to a dang thing I say. So their antics continued.

By the time we got home from church (where I coulda' chugged that whole chalice of wine during Communion) and our Bible study classes I could hardly keep my eyes open. It felt like my body was so tired of being on constant defensive alert it was just shutting down. I didn't fight it. I sunk into my bed for a nap and when I heard thumps and bumps and squealing coming from the other end of the house I blew my top.

"GET! OUT!"

I didn't care where they went or what they did, I just wanted them out of my house and out of earshot.

I knew they'd probably end up at Nana's house next door anyway. Which was fine. I really, really didn't care.

Oh, there were good moments today. But they were fleeting.

Even up to the point when I sent them to bed tonight, after they dragged their feet preparing for morning (even though they do this every school night and they know what to expect), Rachel was fussing at me because I didn't come to kiss her goodnight quickly enough. And you know what? I would bet a thousand dollars that if either of those kids is missing anything they need in the morning, they will blame me.

And then they will ask what I'm making for them for breakfast.

These are the days when I am so glad I can choose to start tomorrow with a clean slate. I can get a good night of rest and be ready to offer up some grace in the morning. I can pray for guidance, sleep off the bad vibes, and start over tomorrow.

If that doesn't work I think I'm going on strike.

I am not a dog whisperer.

But Dear God in Heaven do I need one.

My dog - despite my love for her and the wonderful companionship she provides - makes me crazy sometimes. Just when I think I've got her figured out, or that she's finally mellowing out, she throws me for a loop.

Ladybug has always been a barker, but for two main things: people and raccoons. Bring over a pack of dogs of any size and breed and she will run and jump and sniff and play with all of them. Excitedly. Without barking.

People? She barks at. Always. (Well, except us.) A strange vehicle pulls in the driveway and Ladybug either runs to the end of her lead (if she's outdoors) and barks non-stop, or runs to a window to get a better look ... and barks non-stop.

Oh, and? She slobbers. So you can imagine what my windows look like.

She's persistent, too.

I know you iz out der.

I iz watchin' fer you.

Where you at?

The other day while the plumbers were here I was so embarrassed by my own dog's behavior that I decided I had two options: 1) give up on this doggy business and find her a new home, or 2) commit to some serious training. Or retraining. Whatever.

Since 90 percent of the time she is The Best Dog In The World, I went for option 2 and bought a book about rehabilitating your "reactive" dog. Because as it turns out, as I was reading about reactive dogs - dogs that become fixated on other dogs, or people, or go bonkers when put on a leash, or can't seem to settle down in the car - I realized I was reading about my dog.

I iz tyred. But pretty sure you still out there.

Some history: we adopted Ladybug from a no-kill shelter. I picked her out from hundreds of dogs I saw on-line. When we went to visit her she was so laid back and came right to us when the volunteer dropped her leash. We took her for a walk and she pulled a bit, but otherwise she was great.

We learned that she was about five years old, had been picked up as a stray and had been at the shelter for six months. Black dogs aren't adopted as often as lighter colored dogs, they told us. My heart melted.

At home it took her a while to settle in, which we expected. She seemed a little jumpy over loud noises and quick movements. Bug wasn't housebroken (I suspect as a hunting dog she was kept outside in a kennel) so it was like having a puppy; we house trained her, and I trained her to sleep in a crate. Neither of those tasks was a small feat and I spent several nights falling asleep with my mp3 player drowning out the noise of her whining in the crate.

Bug has a few bad manners, mostly involving food. We have learned to never leave her in the house alone with an open bag of trash. And never leave your snack unattended on the arm of the sofa.

She has learned a few things in the three years she has been with us. She sits at the door for you to put her leash on for a walk, and sits and waits for you to put her food in her dish. She has warmed up to the cats. She goes right to her crate when I tell her it's bedtime. 

But she flips right out when a strange vehicle pulls in the driveway, or when people she doesn't know come into the house. Or approach the house. Or look in the direction of the house from a mile away.

I have learned that if I put her on her leash and allow her to sniff out the strange peeps, she will eventually settle down. (Makes sense - she's a hound. Sniffing is her life.) But honestly, she is a very muscular dog of a breed historically trained to hunt bear. She can look pretty intimidating when she's tugging at the end of her tie-out, barking and slobbering. Who wants to then let that animal sniff their hand?

It's a survival mechanism. Her head tells her strange creatures might be there to hurt her, so she's going to take care of them first. Scare them off. If they seem intimidated her senses pick up on that and it feeds the beast. She gets stressed when her barking doesn't make them go away, so that feeds the beast. And so on and so on.

It's gotten so bad lately that she sometimes barks when the phone rings. Or in the morning when the house creaks and groans as the sun warms it up.

I wish I was kidding.

In other words, I have a 59-lb wuss on my hands. One that could be dangerous (as any dog could) if we don't turn this train around.

So I have begun a new regime. First, Bug is on vacation. She's doing nothing but sleeping, eating, going outside to do her business and take walks with me. She's chillin' to give those stress hormones a chance to fizzle out. And I'm giving her lots of love and attention, she's playing with the kids, and she's getting treats just about as often as I say her name. I've even been feeding her her kibble out of my hand. She's learning mama=good and safe and fun things and the sound of her name=good and safe and fun things. Very zen, right? Let's hope so.

It sounds crazy, but I can already see the difference in her. She's much calmer already. I can tell she's a little confused and maybe even a little suspicious of all the treats flying around, but that's ok.

I'm gonna' journal our progress and I'll update here.

Have I mentioned my lack of the patience gene? Yeah?

Send some good vibes our way, k? I am up to the task but some added positive thoughts sure can't hurt.

The thing about grace.

I love the analogy I read on another blog this morning: (paraphrased) Some days are smoother than others; yesterday was like sandpaper.

Bingo.

A series of events over the past few days - little things - have got me in a tizzy. Each thing no big deal on its own, but all together a burden so heavy my heart aches from the emotions of it all.

I stay up late to chat with Steve about it and then I'm overtired.

The kids feel ignored and I think all my work is unappreciated.

I try to squeeze one more purchase out of this paycheck and then I'm over budget.

The laundry piles up. The dog won't stop barking. This broke. Something smells funny. The cat prince howls to be let out. Then in. Then out. Then in. Then to be fed. Then out again. The house plants are dusty. "Mom! She won't stop coming into my room!" Favorite pens get lost. The sewing machine doesn't work. It's too cold in here. We all overslept. It's hot in here. Nobody likes to try anything new for dinner. I moved a shelf and something fell on my head (I have a mark on my forehead to prove it). "Mom? Can I have a party for my birthday?" I can't find the box of Kleenex I just opened. The library books are overdue.

But. BUT!

It turns out the public library extends some grace to those who overlook their due dates. "These are late and I'd like to just pay the fine," I said.

"There's a three-day grace period," she tells me. "You're good. No fine."

Grace!

That's the thing about grace. The days when you think surely you don't deserve it, you still receive it. And it's a two-way street; the times you think you can't possibly muster the grace to offer someone else, somehow you do and you both feel better for it.

Do you know I just about skipped my way out of that library yesterday? All over not having to pay a 30-cent fine. Because after a crummy day just the smallest act of grace was a major bright spot. It made me happy. And it reminded me that I could show grace to others in very small ways that might mean the world to them.

Something to think about.

We can't do everything.

The other day I was blog hopping and found a post from a mom who has gone scratch-cooking-gluten-free-no-sugar-and-I-can't-remember-what-else, and the gist of her post was this: we can't do it all. And ya' know what? She doesn't feel so bad about that.

It was a relief to read this from another mom. She has made the choice to feel good about the positive changes she and her family have made, and to not feel badly because they choose not to do other Potentially Really Good things. I totally dig that. Because for heaven's sake, who are these people who make us feel all sorts of guilty because we don't recycle our glass bottles or cloth diaper our children or make homemade bread from sprouted grains (whatever the hell those are)?

I read that particular post at the same time I was kicking around the idea of writing a sort of stream of consciousness post here. I thought I'd set a block of time, like "preparing dinner" and jot down every(unrelated)thing that came to mind while I did that one seemingly simple task.

Uhh. I decided my somewhat ADD self didn't need one more distraction while I'm cooking. But I couldn't get over the idea, so I thought I'd try a "virtual" stream of consciousness. (Does that even make any sense? Ha!)

OK. Imagine I'm making banana bread. Which I really am going to do today.

Here's what's happening in my head:

Banana bread. Good way to use up the bananas we didn't eat. Score one for not wasting food. Too bad we can't grow bananas closer to Michigan. That whole "eating local" thing. Too many bananas, need to double the recipe. Two cups times two is four cups. Rachel needs some help with her multiplication. Add flashcards to the shopping list. No, we have 3x5 cards, we'll make some. We don't need to buy things we can make ourselves or do without because eventually everything ends up in the trash. I wish we didn't create so much trash. I wonder how much of a difference it makes that we burn our paper instead of putting it in the trash. Definitely a good choice to toss all the fruit and veggie scraps outside instead of in the trash can. Maybe someday I'll actually have a compost pile again, to use on the garden. Deer ate it all last time; bad location. Deer ... I'm so proud of Sam for bagging his first buck. Venison will be back from the processor in a few days. I wish Steve was here 'cause he'd cut it up himself and save the cost of processing. But at least we have the cash to pay to have it done. We have the cash because Steve is working, and having a job is a good thing. Do I miss working? What am I talking about? I still work every day, just not "out there." I work for my family. Part of what I do is home cooking and making shopping lists and following a budget so we can live on one income. Add flour to the shopping list. I should probably start stocking up on baking supplies with the holidays coming. Lots of flour 'cause I want to try my hand at making pies. With crusts from scratch. How can I be 35 years old and never made a pie? There are moms out there teaching their 5-yr-olds how to make pies. Mmmm, apple pie. Do I have enough apples for pie? What are the best kind of pie apples? Note to self: look up pie recipes next time I get on-line. Or maybe I should forage for apples. We have lots of trees around here. Then they'd be free(!) and we all know the best kind of apples are free apples. I'll check into that. Even if they're not good for pie I can make some applesauce and freeze it. Freezers ... I really need to make an inventory of what's left in the freezers and make sure there's room for venison. Make sure to add cinnamon to the applesauce if I make it, 'cause Rachel loves cinnamon. I'd love some nuts in the banana bread but the kids don't care for nuts. Maybe some with chocolate chips and some with nuts? I should just make it how I like it and if the kids don't like it they don't have to eat it. But this is what I planned for an after-school snack. What time is it? Will these be out of the oven before the kids get off the bus? Hey! I bet I can find a flashcards app on my phone. I really need to cut back on the kids' TV time. Some people live without TV and survive just fine - better, even. So they say. Ah well, my kids love TV and it's a great reward after they do their chores. Chores? When was the last time I paid them for their chores? I need to make a new chore list. Maybe it should include helping make dinner. But I'm home all day, I can make dinner. And breakfast, too. I should do a menu plan and do once-a-month cooking. Then we'd definitely need freezer space. Where's the damn dog? On my bed again. I give up! She needs a bath, though. Has she had her heartworm medicine this month? Check the calendar. Crap. School pictures coming up. Another check to write. What a racket. I really want to have family pictures taken sometime. I'd like to lose some weight first, and I'll never do that if I eat this banana bread. 'Cause I like mine with a lot of butter. But it's so much better than buying boxes of snack foods at the store; at least I know exactly what goes into this bread. Sugar. Like my kids need more of that. Maybe we should try cutting back. I can't control what they do when they're not here, though, so they're gonna' get sugar anyway. What time is it? They'll be home an an hour and a half. Should I be driving them to school? I'm not crazy about some of the things they hear on the bus. But it would be crazy to use all that gas when they can ride the bus for free. Man, I really wish I had a stand mixer. Definitely need to invest in one before we start making our Christmas cookies this year. Gotta' stock up on those supplies. Wouldn't it be fun to do a cookie exchange with some girlfriends? I'd really like to have a get-together. Need to do some cleaning, though. Put spray bottles on the shopping list so when I use up all the cleaning supplies I have I can make my own. Natural cleaners are a good thing. But I'm not crazy about the smell of vinegar. What's that candle over there? I should swap out summery scents with fall scents. I like these candles that are made in the USA. Pumpkin pie candles make me want pumpkin pie ... hmmm ... maybe I can teach myself how to make pumpkin pie. And make several, and put them in the freezer, for the holidays, when we'll be making cookies, and budgeting so we don't spend too much on stuff we don't need, and I'll be using that new mixer (hopefully) to whip up some bread dough but I'll be damned if I'll use sprouted grains. I can't do it all! Oooooh, warm banana bread.

And it goes on like this all. day. long.

Aren't you glad you're not inside my head? You'd probably get motion sick, or at least a little dizzy.

I hope all that blather helps me demonstrate a few things.
1. We can't do it all. Most of us have to make choices about how we're going to contribute to saving the planet and/or humanity. Are we going to go "green" with our choices in building materials, household cleaners, transportation, food consumption? Are we going to become activists for wildlife? Are we going to focus on the political aspect and encourage others to only elect leaders who make the environment and/or high moral values their focus? Will we homeschool our children? Start a farming co-op? Fight the power?

2. Parenting is tough. Mom, dad, single, married, co-habitants, alone, surrounded by family and friends, whatever. It's hard. A few years ago I flooded a social worker with questions upon questions about raising children and you know what I was told? Just the fact that I was thinking about how I parent and questioning some of these things was a pretty good indicator that I'm a good parent. Whew. Hello, validation. My children are fed and clothed and have a roof over their heads. And they eat red meat. And boxed cereal and chicken nuggets. And they drink Kool-Aid and juice boxes sometimes. And milk! And I don't make them wear bicycle helmets. But I let them use power tools and occasionally drive my pickup down the driveway. I say "I" because for the most part I do the parenting while Steve is away. *shrug* I think we're doing fine.

3. Perfectionism can be incapacitating. I like to call myself a recovering perfectionist. In the past, if I didn't have time to do something perfectly (or whatever my vision of perfect was), I wouldn't even get started. Dieting, hanging pictures on the wall, writing a letter, folding towels ... any number of things I wouldn't do because I didn't have the time or energy to make it perfect. I have learned that it's OK to do some things "good enough" and save the pickiness (is that even a word?) for the things that really matter to me. Bonus: this has freed me from being judgmental of others' imperfections. *ahem* Mostly. What can I say? I'm a work in progress.

4. Don't take it personally. If I don't see you stopped next to me at the light, or I don't look up from my list when you walk by me in the grocery store, I'm probably having one of those stream-of-consciousness moments. Go ahead and nudge me. (Well, not with your car, but tapping me on the shoulder in the grocery store is alright.) I might just appreciate the escape from my own brain.

Aaaaand, this seems like the perfect spot to stop rambling for the day! At least publicly. Rest assured it will continue in my head. And I really do need to get baking. Ciao for now!

Relaxing ... and letting go.

Yesterday I had one of those days when I didn't feel very appreciated.

Oh, people all around me made me feel OK. The adults I interact with regularly were kind. Heck, even people I don't know smiled at me at the grocery store.

But my own flesh and blood? Those little people I provide dinner for every night? They were mean. They were demanding and rude and ungrateful. I couldn't do a darn thing right in their eyes.

Well, I guess that's not altogether fair of me. They did go outside with me for a while and do some yard work, and they both complimented me on the new flowerbed I worked up. But beyond that it was crankiness upon snottiness upon grumpiness.

So when bedtime came I was ruthless. No idle chatter. No last-minute showing of a new magic trick. No discussing tomorrow's schedule or grabbing a glass of water. Nope. Get in bed, here's your kiss, now be quiet.

Oh, and I still love you, ya' little brat.

Once the house was quiet I turned most of the lights off and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. It was a perfect night to sit out on the steps of the front deck and listen to the frogs croaking and crickets chirping, and even a few deer rustling leaves on their way out of the woods and into the field.

I sat there in the dark in my worn out clothes and bare feet, just listening to the world around me and getting lost in the glow of the solar lights I stuck in that new flowerbed. There was a cool breeze but I was determined to stay out there until either I finished my beer or my toes got too cold.

It was heavenly. I'm pretty sure the moment I stepped outside my children jumped out of bed and sat in the doorways of their bedrooms across the hall from each other and plotted against me. I know this because when I had to step inside to answer the phone I heard a bump, thump, giggle coming from that direction. That's fine; isn't that what kids are supposed to do? It actually tickles me a little and I would have enjoyed the thought of it a whole lot more if I wasn't already annoyed with them. But I let it go anyway.

Back out on the deck I thought of how lucky I am, how blessed that when the day gets to be too much all I have to do is step outside my door and listen and let the breeze carry my troubles away.

I had to laugh a little when I remembered something my mom said over the weekend. We were shopping at a furniture store and I had two little signs in my hands - one said "Relax" and one said "Love" - and I was trying to decide whether I wanted one or the other or both. She pointed to "Love" and said, "you have that," and then pointed to "Relax" and said, "you need to figure out how to do that ... take that one."

Funny.

I took the dog outside to sit with me while I finished the last of my beer, strolled around the yard with her in the twilight, and went to bed early, a little calmer, a lot less tense.

Hmph. Who says I don't know how to relax?

I might just cry.

If we do indeed get the weather we are "supposed" to get over the next couple of days, I might seriously curl up in a ball and cry.

I know it's still early. Sure, spring has technically arrived, at least according to the calendar, but it's late March in Michigan for heaven's sake. I know the possibility for some yucky weather is still in the cards, but dammit! A possible foot of snow? Are you freaking kidding me?!?

Admittedly, I am one of those people who gets cranky when folks complain about the weather. I mean, it is Michigan. The weather can and does change quickly around here. We live here. We know that. But I've been so spoiled by the recent sunshine and warm temperatures, and I have so been looking forward to getting outside and being more active and getting the yard cleaned up. I don't want any more snow!!! And I'm going to pout if we get a foot of it.

Here's hoping the predictions are way off.

A do-over.

Go figure.

I had just about gotten everything how I wanted it on my new laptop and something went awry. It wouldn't boot up for me the other day.

One stinkin' week with the new thing and something was already on the fritz. Gah!

Nobody's sure what happened, but whatever it was, it's fixed now. Some quirky thing even the computer gurus couldn't figure out. Leave it to me.

But it's all good 'cause we're back in business. Again. With everything wiped out and reinstalled clean. Again. So I get a do-over. Back to setting preferences and marking bookmarks and transferring files. It's the perfect kind of day for it though - rainy and dreary - and I spent most of yesterday cleaning house so I have a nice, cozy nest to just hang out in today.

Maybe I'll even throw in a load of laundry.

I have a feeling I will eventually end up with a paint brush in my hand, or pulling out the sewing machine, or otherwise finding some way to check something else off my to-do list.

Maybe.

Balance.

It would seem that a stay-at-home mom to two school-aged children would have plenty of down time during the day, no?

Umm, no. Not in this house, anyway.

I've been having a hard time juggling everything I feel I should be doing lately, much less finding time for me. I have struggled with the balancing act of homemaking, planning and cooking somewhat healthy meals, evening routines of homework and chores and personal hygiene (why is that so hard for some kids?!), tending to the formerly-in-rough-shape-but-now-good-as-new kitten (what's that people say about nothing "free" being free?), vehicle repairs, school functions, road trips, being wife and mom and daughter, and ... well, you get the idea.

And don't we have some holidays coming up soon? I will not freak out.

I am thankful. Grateful. I wouldn't want my life any less busy, because a busy life is a full life, at least in our case. Sure, I can't sit down to read a magazine without having thoughts of unfinished household business floating around in my head, and I don't always get those few minutes of writing I crave every day, but such is life.

I can honestly say that today I am better at finding balance than I was a year ago, and that's progress.

Admittedly, Christmas is barely on my radar. Yes, it was mere days ago that I was listening to holiday tunes while I worked on something, but that's effortless. I don't want to think about decorating and shopping just yet. I'm taking things one day at a time and there are still lots of days before December 25.

Plenty of time, right?

Ack! I just gotta' say it: nobody's perfect!

I appreciate a quiet Sunday afternoon when I can catch up on some of the blogs I follow, hoping to spark some creativity, see what friends and fellow writers have been up to, or sometimes just get lost in someone else's world for a while.

Inevitably I click from a blog I know and love to one on their reading list that looks interesting, and so on and so on. What a fun way to work my way around the world from the comfort of my own home!

But occasionally my journey into other's lives causes me to log off and smack my laptop shut in exasperation. I see perfectly-lit pictures of beautiful, clean homes and happy, organically-fed children, and I read about how they fill each day with fun and educational activities. It's all about love and hugs and rainbows and fuzzy little kittens.

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!? Nobody's life could possibly be that perfect.

My name is Jane. I school my children at home and I feed them only foods we grow in our back yard, sans chemicals. I support baby-wearing and I abhor spanking. My husband is a genius and an entrepreneur. We never speak a harsh word to each other in any of the three languages in which we are fluent. We don't own a television. We have no debt. Our children don't know who Hannah Montana is. We make our own furniture and milk our own cow. Look at my beautiful home!

Seriously? Hhhhhhh.

There was a time when I would have been a little jealous of Jane's seemingly wonderful life and might have even tried to be more like her - the her in the snapshot she posted on-line, anyway. Now I just sorta' lift an eyebrow. Just a little. I don't judge Jane, but neither do I assume that her children have never thrown temper tantrums, her husband loves his job, Jane lives caffeine-free, and she has never been embarrassed by the state of her home when company stops by unexpectedly.

If her life really is that way? Well. Then more power to her. It sounds exhausting.

The fun thing about blogging (and the Internet in general) is that we can present only the aspects of our lives we wish to share. We can stage our photos. We can skip blogging on our crappiest days and write twice as much about the best days. We can make our lives look as perfect as possible. Or we can use our space in the blogosphere as a place to dump all the drama and share all the frustrations of life. I try to land somewhere in the middle.

I use this blog as a sort of journal and even though I haven't been at it very long I look back on my previous posts and remember the good days, bad days, ugly days, and yes, even the seemingly perfect days. My life is about striving for ... I don't know ... goodness. Peace. My family's happiness. But it gets messy sometimes, and I'm OK with you seeing that because messiness keeps me humble. Messiness is real.

My friend B is forever reminding me, "progress, not perfection." Pretty good words to live by.

I can't help but think some people spend so much time polishing the facade that they forget to live the life, and that's a shame.

That's all. I just had to get that off my chest. I feel better now.

Oh, and chances are if you are reading this, my imaginary character Jane does not represent you. Jane is all those people whose real names I don't know but whose perfect photos and children and spouses and homes are just too sugary sweet for my taste.

Now I'm really done. Off my soap box. Carry on!

And for heaven's sake, enjoy the journey. It can be imperfect and beautiful at the same time.

Holy heatwave!

Baby, it's HOT outside.

And humid.

It's the kind of heat that makes my little girl's ringlet curls come back. Which is sort of cute because I miss those ringlets. But that's about the only fun thing about this heat. Otherwise, I am not a fan.

I've gotten much more tolerant of the heat as I've gotten older. Not that I'm old. But I remember when I was a kid and my grandfather painted a green mark at the 80-degree point on his outdoor thermometer. That's when he considered it comfortable.

I thought he was crazy.

Now I think 80 degrees isn't so bad. Except for on days like today when it's been pushing 90 and humid all week and the weatherman says "this heatwave is going to break on Thursday" so you wait with some serious anticipation for Thursday and Thursday comes and it's 78 and still humid and you'd swear it feels like it's 103.

This heat makes me cranky.

Or is it the humidity?

Whatever.

Thank God for air conditioning.

And pools.

And margaritas.