Life Isn't Fair, but Death Isn't Either.

Two funerals in two months leaves one pondering about life, death and all the issues inbetween. Sometimes death is the best you can hope for when life becomes nothing but suffering. A chronic or terminal disease in old age or no quality of life make death seem like a welcoming place to go. I get that for the two I have attended recently.

What I do not get, what I will never get, is a person in the prime of their life being told there is nothing else we can do. A man with two young children that were the light of his life. My husband's best friend, since as early as his memory can take him, has learned in the last few days that his chances are practically non-existant.

My heart aches for him , the things he will never see, the great attitude about it all as it was happening that didn't change a thing, his way of making us all feel better when we were worried the most, his love of life, his funny outlook on everything, his friendship and his knowledge that he may be at the end of this journey.

I think of him, sitting tonight all alone, when all the company has left and he is just with himself, his thoughts and his destiny. I imagine he thinks of his kids, how they will handle it, how he can possibly leave them, how he has no choice, how his mind is still so alive and how his body can be failing him. I think how he would live his life in pain just to be able to live at all. His job must be left incomplete, how desperate that must feel.

Our whole life we hear about hope, but what happens when someone tells you there is none? How do you say good-bye? How do you let go when all you want to do is stay? How do you look into your children's eyes knowing you must leave them and miss seeing them grow up? There are millions of books on how to live, but no one tells you how to die.

This thing we call life, you can't get out of it alive. You see old actors that seemed bigger than life grow old and frail and when you turn on the radio or the news and hear of then passing, it sinks in just a bit more that we all will be there one day, that there is no escape. You hope it is when you are very old and very tired and the inevitable is a peaceful ending to a long and full life. You try to block out any thoughts of being younger, you set it aside and think it only happens to others.

I am so touched by his courage. How many times in life do you go through something so stressful and wonder how you ever made it? You make it because you had to, it was the only thing to do. So, I guess when there is no choice, even in dying, you do it too. You pray for a miracle, accept you may not get one, try and fasten up all your personal loose ends and let go. It all sounds reasonable, but that letting go part...... that letting go part is what crushes your heart.

Yawn.

I am so tired from working at the new house all weekend, and several evenings before that, I fear my body will never stop hurting. I did manage to get some help from my mom and my wonderful friend. She ever bought me a ladder!! It sure helps with ceilings, because prior to that I was using a folding chair with arms stretched up as far as they could go to reach the crud left on ceilings from a heavy smoker.

We used enough cleaners and chemicals to not only rid the place of the film, but to make it nearly impossible to breath, which should air out soon. I will have to rinse the walls with some warm water before painting, but at least I know all the 'pre-us" dirt is washed away.

I think I overdid it this weekend because shoulders-sore, back-aching, mind-overwhelmed, body-exhausted and energy-vanished. A big part of me wants to take a break for a few days, actually NEEDS to take a break for a few days, so it will be a battle between trying to do what I should and trying to stay away from a project unfinished.

The worst part about spending endless hours working on the new house is that everything still needs to get done in current house. Laundry piling up, cleaning to be done and even my family has the nerve to want things like food in cupboards and dinner made. Geeshhhhhhhhhh.

On a sad note, my husband's sister passed yesterday after battling a chronic illness. She will be missed, but her suffering has finally ended, for that I am relieved.

Now, I must go find a cozy blankie to wrap up in cause being tired sucks enough, being cold and tired is just way too much........brrrrrrr.

Don't Go Away Mad, Just Go Away.

I will not take my shit with me
I do not want to, I am Dee Dee.
I will not move them here or there
I will not move them anywhere.

Could you? Would you? With a goat?
Could you? Would you? On a boat?
Could you? Would you? In the rain?
Could you? Would you? On a train?
Not with a goat. Not on a boat.
Not in the rain. Not on a train.
Not in a house.Not with a mouse.

I will not take my shit with me
I do not want to, I am Dee Dee.

And so another promise broken today. " I will have all my shit out Friday, I promise!". Not only is the shit still there, it is some type of multiplying shit. Cause, I swear, everytime I go back it looks like more and more. GRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I did get a room painted which forced me to make the kitchen a fire hazard, as everything is now piled up in there ( it is the closest location to the sliding glass door). I actually wanted to paint and fix up the kitchen first, but I can't find it now.

Miss Dee Dee is MIA, never showed up to get anything out. On a positive note I did not have to listen to why her life is so much harder than mine today. She is single with no kids, does nothing by herself and is responsible for nothing. I have four kids, sometimes six, have to work from home while tending to a toddler and a gazillion chores, manage to pack and move her, am financially spent from this whole mess....and yet according to her, I have it mucher easier.

Dee Dee lives in her own world, lightyears away from reality. I hope to visit there one day. On second thought, I think I will just stay here .....on easy street.

My Birthday Weekend.

Friday, I wrote about. Friday sucked. Friday, the actual day of my birthday, doesn't count.

Saturday we help the SIL move out. If move out means leaving 500 pounds of garbage on the back patio and another 500 scattered throughout the house....but we are slowing getting there. Very slowly.

At 7pm, some good friends stopped by with a cake and some fun presents, we cracked open some bud lights and played chandeliers. I will not go into full detail but some of the highlights included dancing on chairs, awesome music, feathered boa, beads, hours of giggling and enough memories to tell stories for years to come. The party for me ended at 2 am when I went upstairs to "pee" and never returned because "that bed looked so comfy", plop, and snoooooooooooze.

Sunday, or "hangover day", I had to pull my shit together for round two at my sis's for the G-rated family bash. My nephew and I shared the birthday honors. Had another great time with lots of laughs and.....more presents. I usually raise a fuss about getting presents, because I am older and it seems silly to have people waste their money on things for me, especially since my attitude carries over and I rarely do the present thing with others. But. I have to say the little thoughtful gifts that people got me were the perfect balence of things I like and things that did not make me feel totally guilty. It was nice.

I hope to have pictures soon to share. They should be quite entertaining and possibly embarrassing, like all good pictures should be.
All in all, it was a great time and just what I needed after a way too long, too stressful and too serious week.

Don't Panic......... I Wish!

"going round and round '
cause you can't get on your feet
going round and round
still taking all the heat
going round and round
never touching down "

Claustrophobia
Noun
1. A morbid fear of being closed in a confined space.

"If you are living with confined spaces phobia, what is the real cost to your health, your career or school, and to your family life? Avoiding the issue indefinitely would mean resigning yourself to living in fear, missing out on priceless life experiences big and small, living a life that is just a shadow of what it once was.

Like all fears and phobias, confined spaces phobia is created by the unconscious mind as a protective mechanism. At some point in your past, there was likely an event linking confined or small spaces and emotional trauma. The original catalyst may have been a real-life scare of some kind, the condition can also be triggered by myriad, benign events like movies, TV, or perhaps seeing someone else experience trauma.

But so long as the negative association is powerful enough, the unconscious mind thinks: "Ahh, this whole thing is very dangerous. How do I keep myself from getting in this kind of situation again? I know, I'll attach terrible feelings to confined or small spaces, that way I'll steer clear in future and so be safe." Just like that confined spaces phobia is born. "

Okay, so all this describes me quite well. I remember when I used to think that was just a fear of being locked in a small box or something, but just like most bad things in life, it has a tendency to grow like a cancer spreading all over, dropping its disease on everything and every place.

Quite frankly, I am freakin' sick of it.

Mine makes it, not only seemingly impossible to get on a plane, but has gone so far as to make it practically intolerable for me to be in a car with another human. I hate malls, upper floors on any building, buses, and anything that leads me to feeling closed in or trapped without a fast exit.

I do drive with others at times. It is usually when my stress level is pretty low and I have better control over my tendency to not go into total panic and "get me out of here or I am losing it NOW" mode. I'll drive my kids to practice or to a friend's house in town even on high alert times. It is just the constant monitoring of the level each day that also contributes to the plunging quality of life, it blows BIG TIME.

I do not miss out on things that would make my life hard to live. I get most anyplace I have to and a lot that I just want to, but dr appts are a nightmare for me. Gyn appts top the list for obviously reasons, such as naked with legs up and out. Of course they are not really a party for anyone.

The part that crushes me the most is the "getting there is half the fun" thing. I miss jumping in the car with friend's and family, shopping for hours, going on trips, or just driving around to get out and chat. I mourn that daily. Sure, when I have to get somewhere a few hours away, I just do it, but not without more traumatizing horror to re-enforce my already irrational body responses and mind torture.

I often tell people it is really hard to live with a totally rational mind that responds in totally irrational ways to something that isn't a threat. Knowing that makes it seem easy to fix, but nothing could be further from the truth. Someone once told me what the mind cannot find a way out of, the body will. I stat feeling detached, faint, short of breath, disorientated, and like the world is spinning around me. The sense of doom and the uneasiness of mind is horridly painful as well.

I used to try and hide it when it started about six or seven years ago. I made excuses, worked around it and never shared the pain I was in over it. The stress of that was unbearable. People generally just can't understand it and why should they if they don't experience it? They figure if it doesn't actually kill you, why not just do it and suffer the hell. But I would challenge those people to imagine everytime you did a daily task that you knew you would get a painful, numbing electric shock that hurt terribly. Everytime you had to do that task again, you knew that the shock was coming. Would you not maybe start avoiding it just alittle?

With all the stress of moving, among other things, I am just being challenged by it again in a bigger way than normal. So, I had to vent a bit. Tomorrow I hope to write about the drunken birthday bash!!! Unfortunately, us teens from the 80's know how to drink, play drinking games and make a royal ass out of ourselves..it is like riding a bike. No matter how much older you get, you never forget how to do it and, damn, we do it up right!

Happy Birthday to ME!!

Oh, and what a lovely birthday it has been so far!

Let's start at 1230am when my tired body could take no more and fell into a peaceful and much needed sleep. Fast forward to sometime between 4-430am when violent, noisy winds forced my front door open and woke me up. The new lock is not working, so wind blew between storm door and front door causing a build up of pressure that forced both doors open every 5-6minutes until about 630am.

At a little before seven, I realized that the job of closing the door and NOT getting any sleep appeared to be completed. I needed about 6 more hours.( I can dream) I cuddled up with my cozy down comforter and was out.......for about 40 minutes when Brooke, who NORMALLY sleeps until 9ish, was standing at the bottom of the steps screaming, "MOMMY, GET UP!!!!!!!".

I did get up, though most of the morning was a blur. She did put her swimsuit on and ask to go swimming....AGAIN, just as she has the last four days. If there was a nearby pond, I may have broken the ice and let her do it, just to make her stop asking! I just couldn't handle the stress of the ER and explaining the frost bite and swimming suit.

Then sis-in-law, who will now be refered to as SIL from HELL, busted in ranting and raving. Her face was messed up from a bar fight the night before, she was heading to the bar again, which she just left to try and find "the guy with the truck who said she could borrow it". The big move is tomorrow and yet she can't seem to get it all ready cause it is hard to pack from a beer joint, I guess. When I mention this, she assures me that there isn't really that much left to do. (Since I did 80% of it,thus far) I beg to differ and see about 20 hours of clearing left. She then starts making calls, one ending in four letters words, flinging the phone across the table and then announcing she is going to go drive her car into the river............. she says her dramtic good-byes and I let her run out without protest.

Two hours later, she is on the phone all happy-like because she found, "the guy with the truck who said she could borrow it". Maybe he was fishing on the banks of the Ohio and she spotted him right before she took the plunge or maybe she went straight to the bar and found him, either way she was fine with it all. She then informs me that her plan to move most of it tonight will not take place, cause, you know, she has, like, all day tomorrow and well, she needs a beer, it has been a stressful day.
Sigh.................

On the bright side, I did hear from my wonderful friends. They wished me a happy birthday and let me vent. I also got a card from my friend in Georgia with a cute picture and an e-card from my number one sounding board. I just hope when it is all over, this move and the SIL from HELL stuff, that they will all still be around for me to share some much happier times!!!! So, raise your glasses, a toast to me and great times to come and please, please, let them hurry up and get here!!!

My Sick Child, Who Also Isn't Feeling Well.

Isn't she just adorable? I can't figure out if she is more adorable when she smarts off to me constantly, whines 24/7 or maybe, it is when she tries to note all MY flaws.

Everything in life is a drama to her. Sometimes it seems she just looks for anything to be mad, upset, or spastic about and the loudness of her voice is earth-shattering.

Every night, when things seem to be quieting down, she begins her "noises". It can be pounding on a table, humming, singing, or anything else that causes one's nerves to snap. She always has the last word and it is usually something a child would have died for, years ago, if they said it to their parents.

After she has succeeded in creating chaos and misery for all around, she then states the "Everyone is mean to me" and the "Why don't you yell at anyone else?". We have been down this road a million times and I still cannot convince her that yelling at Travis for just passing by on the way to his room wouldn't make much sense.

Most people say it is a cry for attention, so I have addressed that and tried to give her positive attention, but she usually beats me to anything good to say by making sure the second she walks in the door, she is throwing her bookbag violently on the table, bitching at me for not picking her up (her bus drops her off one block from our home and I am working and have Brooke), complaining that she is too hot or too cold, whining about hunger, and then telling me something wrong about...... me.

The boys started learning long ago that no peace would be found with Cassie home, so they usually gather at a friend's house or threaten to move out when really fed up with her destruction. I hate that she is hell bent on upsetting the entire house. When she sees that everyone in the house is beyond stressed and upset, you can see this little smirk of satisfation. It makes me blood boil!

What hurts the most is that I thought I would be the coolest mom to a girl, that we would sooooo get each other and life would be great. I seem to get along with most everyone else. I have tried everything. But how do you help someone thats main goal is to be intolerable? Who, even worse, actually gets a kick out of it?

I have read that the mother-daughter relationship is the most complex and conflicting of any other realtionship. I am now a true believer too. All I can do is keep trying to draw out her good points, compliment her any chance I get, hope it is a 13 year "phase" that will be ending soon, and pray for mercy.

Packin' it Up, Shippin" Her Out.

First, I must talk of the major guilt for missing Travis's game. It was his last regular season game...so the guilt is multiplied by 100. I was so sick over it last night and it may take weeks to forgive myself (or my whole life, as I tend to relive guilt moments forever). I got so caught up in what I was doing, I lost all track of time.

Which brings me to what I was doing. Packing the other house to get it ready to be painted and have my stuff moved in!! Sis-in-law works 2pm-10pm every night and was way behind for a move on Saturday. I knew if I didn't get to it, there would be all that junk left behind that seems to pile up as you pack to move. That stuff you are not sure you should take and are not sure you should just throw out. I find it easier when someone else makes that decision for you..someone like me.

I had to be at the game by 6pm and went to the house at 445, thinking I would get an hour of work in, packing up the kitchen. The next thing I know I am frantically looking for a clock to check the time, as I got so caught up in what I was doing and saw it was well after 6 o'clock. (Reliving the guilt ) I felt so bad, but did the only thing I could. I packed up 3 more rooms and called it a night.

So, much progress was made on the moving front, now I just have to find a way to make it up to Travis, (Reliving the guilt again) who probably doesn't give a rat's ass. But either way, I will torture myself over it anyway. (Reliving the guilt....)

Attack of the Big Belly.

I was blaming my period and all the bloating for my unusually round belly. I have had four kids, so I generally battle the little bulge that sticks out over your jeans. Old-fashion "mom jeans" used to hide that "pinch an inch" quite nicely, but now we have the lowrise and the ultra lowrise, which lets it all hang out. I mean ALL, remember back in the ol' days when the only ass crack you saw was the plumber's? Now, it is commonplace to see people bend over pushin' crack everyday.

But, back to my belly. The period is winding down and the belly isn't. Could it be the steady diet of fast food during the kitchen remodel has taken a major toll on my waist? I fear it is true and a diet may be in order. I seem to battle the same 15 pounds over and over. Once or twice a year things get just a bit too tight and I cut back a few weeks til I feel a bit more comfortable in my clothes again. Success is when I no longer unbutton my jeans after eating.

As you age, that weight does not want to go away. What used to be a week or two of eating less becomes a month or two of hard work. Luckily, I am not an over-eater, just a bad eater. During stressful times, I make bad food choices. After the last few weeks, I should weigh about 350!!

Bob is a terrible yo-yo dieter. He over eats til he is 30 to 50lbs overweight. When he reaches his limit and starts deciding he is really getting fat, he then goes on the no carb diet and drops 40lbs in a month or two, feels like shit, has terrible mood swings and drives everyone crazy. He does lose the weight though. I have some before and after shots and they are quite amazing and dramatic.

Before...


and after.....


The transformation is amazing, he almost looks like a different person.

So, time for me to start eating healthy again. Good-bye chips, popcorn, hershey bars, wendy's, pizza, club sandwiches until we meet again in 10-15 pounds. Sniff, sniff...............

A Wonderful Surprise, for a Change.

After weeks of stressing about how I could possibly afford new flooring throughout the new house, I decided to put up a corner of carpet in one of the bedrooms. I was preivously told it was just some type of plywood and would definitely need to be covered with the something after I got rid of all the old carpet.

I starting pulling up the one end in the far corner of Brooke's room when very nice, in good shape, hardwood started to appear. Not the hardwood in an older house type hardwood, but very nice, not stained as dark as hell, wonderful hardwood!!

I was so excited, I could hardly contain myself. I wondered if I could be so lucky to have it be throughout the entire house. I opened closet doors , went to corners of each room and starting pulling up carpet to uncover.....more excellent hardwood!!

I was planning on having hardwood laminate installed in both my bedroom and the living room which would have cost quite a bit, but now I don't have to do that!! It will require some sanding possibly, as I haven't taken up all carpet to see if finish might be uneven yet, but I am still thrilled at the discovery and the original hardwood looking as great as it does. ( doing a happy dance)

For Brooke's room I will have to buy a regular carpet, but will have it cut to a square, have the edges done and lay it over the hardwood. A toddler needs the cushion of plush, plus they spend an incredible amount of time playing on the floor, rolling around on the floor, doing tumbles on the floor, diving off furniture onto the floor and tantruming, also, on the floor. Hardwood would not be a good surface for such activities.

I might be a little too excited about all this, but, damn, with all the bad news I have gotten lately, a little good news in worth the major celebration! Let me have my moment before I find another moneypit problem elsewhere in the house.

Until then, all is good.

Big Hair '96 and '97.

I was helping my sis-in law clear out some stuff from my soon to be, new house when I found some very incriminating evidence of me carrying on not just big, but GIANT, HUGE, 80's hair way after its time. Someone forgot to tell me if was 1996 and not 1986 here..............



The scary thing is the previous year (1995) it was starting to lose some of its 80's appearance with just the medium poofy do.

I regressed that year, but had it almost, in its full 80's slendor again for Christmas 1997........ though it did start to flatten quite a bit by about quarter til drunk.



I also think the out of style by then, shoulder pads were a nice touch.

Even Bob had a big hair obsession for a brief period.


The top picture is the stuff torture is made out of, so I have put it out there before it can be used against me. Just cause I am smart like that and always thinking. I never claimed to be thinking straight, cause I cannot figure out what the hell I was thinking that day.

Night Terrors, No Experience.

The Brookie Monster, who at times is a terror, starting have night ones recently. You would think with five brothers and sisters before her, we would know something about this and how to handle it. Unfortunately, none that came before ever had them. I honestly do not even remember too many bad dream episodes, even.

Cassie used to dream about ghosts and wake up scared, but she was a bit older, maybe 6ish. At six years old, you can explain things and they understand the concept of dreams by then. A toddler with limited vocabulary ....doesn't get it so much.

The first was a 3 am wake up. She was screaming and horrified at the butterflies all over the room and especially upset about the ones on her back. I can ward off any danger I can see when it comes to my kids, but how do you get rid of the imaginary ones? She appears to be awake and is talking about the butterflies still around her, but obviously she is still stuck in some scary place inbetween dreaming and awake.

The next day at 8am, I am downstairs straightening up when I hear blood-curdling screams again, "Get me out..GET ME OUT!!!!". I run up the stairs, thinking she is caught on something or stuck. I find her in the middle of the bed, shaking, with the blankets pulled to her chin. I asked what was the matter as I approached her and she looked cautiously around the bed. "Froggies gonna get me!".

The last two weeks it has continued. Once it was dinosaurs, then butterflies showed up again, then ladybugs and even Swiper, the fox, from Dora made a brief appearance. She seems to calm down relatively fast now, but during the day, out of the blue, she will start a Rainman type, repetative self-soothing ramble. "Butterflies not get me, frogs live in da water, not MY room, dinosaur all gone now, ladybug care me. Butterflies not get me................". By the way, she is an excellent driver.

So, on my priority list for the day is "research night terrors" and attempt to make them go away. My heart just aches for her. Maybe I can find some preventative measure to take before bedtime. At the worst, I will be a certified genius on night terrors. Just one more thing to add to MY imaginary list of expertise.

Mood Swingin'

Okay, don't hold me to this, but for some reason today, I am in fairly good mood. Which isn't too strange for most people, but I should have PMS right now!! Could this be the calm before the storm? Should my friends and family brace themselves for what could happen?? Maybe.

I did get a lot of stress out yesterday. I got to yell at the people from Dell, several of them, no less. Taking out bottled emotional stress on perfect strangers always helps with pent up frustrations. Plus you can't get a rise out of those people from India or Pakistan, or wherever the hell they answer those calls. They are trained well to be firm and monotone. I guess they would have to be since 99.9% of the calls they get are from angry Americans like me that have a computer that is f***ed up or a missing rebate check. Hell, if you were calling for a friendly reason, you would be pissed by the time you went through the 30 minutes of press this and press that anyway. They sooooooooo deserve it all.

I also used the "Dell approach" on a person that was draining me constantly with their issues, earilier in the day. It was quite effective, I must admit. I guess using a firm, matter of fact, back off attitude was just the thing to gain a bit of peace, at least for the rest of that afternoon.

I'm always so suggestable to everyone else's bad moods. It is like I absorb it like a sponge. I really have to work on holding strong on my own mood and not inviting everyone else's in for coffee and donuts. Easier said, than done. Definitely worth a try.

Selling a Home, Enter Nervous Breakdown.

Getting a home ready to be shown is so stressful. I see every tiny, little flaw everywhere, inside and out. I walk through each room, mentally noting that I must repair that or redo this until the list has become a revolving nightmare in my head that plays all day and night.

I feel so preoccupied all the time. I wanted to do so much more for curb appeal, but damn, I'm out of motivation, inspiration and cash. I was watching HGTV and they said to look at your property and see what it says and make necessary changes to really make a statement. My dead grass, broken railing, non-landscaped property right now screams, "RUN!!". I can't perform miracles here, but I hope to do just a little so it says, "Well, maybe..let's check out the inside.".

Ugh, the thought of being judged,the people that will look just for curiosity, the fact that people will hate your decorating, your choice of color and style, and your unfinished basement. Can I handle that kind of rejection? Why do I care so much?

The inside is coming along, but far from the perfect picture I hoped to create. Everytime I improve one thing, it makes all the other stuff look bad, thus making me constantly have to do more. I'm tired, people. So, tired. So stressed out. I just want to be done with all this already and move on. It is too hard and too much work. Did I mention how tired and stressed out I am?

I wake up every morning with this jittery, nervous feeling anticipating what is left to be completed, the work that lies ahead, the fear of not being able to even sell the house, the fear of hating the new place and that my kids will someday resent me for not being the perfect mom...wait, that is from another series of nightmarish worries. See, it is all becoming a blur now. Help!

The owner and, gulp, relative, that we are buying from calls daily to let me know she may not be able to wash down the walls or get out some old appliances or have it cleared completely. I just picture walking into a 1500 sq ft garbage can and old appliance graveyard. I'm cracking, I tell ya, totally cracking!

**Breathing** Okay all this talk is stressing me out even more. All I can hope for now is that my next residence is her house and not a sterile,white environment with needles and straightjackets.

It will be a close call.

Make New Freinds, but Keep the Old...

I heard from one of the "golds" yesterday. I answer the phone mid-afternoon and am immediately pulled back many years to a funny memory that we shared. This caused a chain reaction of many memories flooding back throughout the day that just make me smile.

My best friend from high school moved to Georgia, as did my best friend from college. (Actually my second round of college when the boys were just toddlers.) It was the college friend I spoke with and it just does something to reconnect not only the two of you, but you again, to yourself. Who you were before growing up makes you more careful and teaches you to swallow so much. In your teens and twenties, everything is so much more dramatic. You live faster, love stronger, anger quicker and see every emotion through to the final thread.

I was reminded of so many awesome times. Later, I was thinking about a trip we took to a lab conference. We had a four hour drive where she drove and I drank. Drank so much, in fact, that I flashed truck drivers and ended up being sick the enitre weekend. It was like a three day hangover in high attitude, no less, that was making me queasy anyway.

I thought about all of my fellow classmates in the lab program and funny things that happened with them all, how close we all became and how, at a difficult transition time in my life, they all became my family. I always laugh when I think about a bake sale we had to raise money for that trip, in which a girl in the program asked me to taste a rice krispie treat. She asked, with a sour look on her face, if they tasted funny. I took a bite and with much drama, said they were horrid and spit out what was in my mouth. "Who made those nasty things??", I asked. She looked down, bowing her head and I heard a barely audible, "me.". OOPS!!!! Open mouth, insert foot. ( I don't know where you are now, Kim, but really, I'm so sorry!!!)

We used to go to a little bar for lunch that had the best hamburgers ever and on one occasion drank too. We went back for afternoon classes, smelling of smoke and booze, giggling through the whole lecture. Everything was just funnier back then. Boy, do I miss that. But,more than anything, I miss myself, how life was this thing that was still about to happen and not something I am looking back on now, as though what is to come pales in comparison.

Maybe I had too much fun. Is that possible?? Did I win the gold medal before I even made the team? So that everything had to go downhill from there with such a major contrast. Who knows? I think it is more about life changing than anything. Your hopes and dreams become hopes and dream for your children, as you take a back seat realizing that their happines means more to you than your own now.

Once a baby emerges from your womb, you do take a back seat. It doesn't make it any less wonderful though. You just become the biggest fan in the crowd instead of the main event. But every so often, in moments you share with just yourself, you miss the spotlight.

WAY TO GO!!!

Oh, oh, oh, oh, Pittsburgh won the Superbowl!!

I could talk about the scary parts of that game, dropped passes, interceptions, close calls, and lots of uneasiness here and there, but I will just say....Superbowl XL Champs-Pittsburgh Steelers!!!

'Nough said.

Life Without Football Soon

Tonight "mon prince" has his football banquet and Sunday marks the end of another season. I love my Steelers, but I am more than ready to have weekends revolve around non-TV watching activities.

Of course, from past experience, I realize that now instead of a game, Bob will be watching the history channel all the time. And he will be able to get in his full 40 hours of CNN every week again too. On my list of top 100 things that I could actually sit through on TV, neither makes the list....so I am pretty much doomed to a bad mood for infinity.

We are completely annoyed with one another, mostly cause I am the only one that can do anything right. Which is annoying both because I have to do it all and because seeing him sit on his ass while I do it all makes me ever so cranky.

He has a list of "things" he cannot do, either because he sucks at it or because he is just incapable. It covers most every task known to man. He can't paint, write a check, figure out any minute problem, use logic or reasoning, or ever succeed at a very small and doable task. I can't count on him to pick something up at the store, it is ALWAYS wrong or even to go to a drive-thru window and expect to get anything remotely close to what I requested.

He did clean out the basement to a large extend. It didn't take a lot of brain power. He rented a dumpster, threw everything into it and called it finished. I will be reminded of this task for at least the next year anytime I ask for any help at all.. "Jesus! I cleared the whole basement (three weeks ago), I'm tired TOO!!". Yeah....okay.

So, with the end of football we enter "the end of any program we can agree on til next season" phase. We do occasionally find an hour a week where we both are interested in the same show, so there is always that to look forward to....sigh.

I will be taking a break from my first quarter of 2006 bitchfest for the Superbowl, which will require a lot of alcohol and some deep breathing exercises. Maybe I will find time to post before the game between making all the food, cleaning the entire house and solving world hunger.

Go Steelers!!!!

I Am, Therefore I Nag

To the uninformed observer, we women can seem like real nags. We nag our husbands and children about doing this, picking up that, taking care of their things and so on. We walk around filled with resentment and acting like total bitches, but there are two sides to every story and this is our's. ( And by the way, we win).

We are completely held responsible for the cleanliness of our home, the behavior of our children and the neverending list of chores and responsibilities that come along with those and everything else. Our brains are jam packed with information about doctor and denist appointments, birthdays, everyone's favorite dish, the food each member of the house dislikes, every pressing issue for every single person we come in contact with, the due date of each and every bill, the fact that three of those bills will be late this month, how we are going to work all that out and a gazillion other things as well.

You would think carrying the world on your shoulders would make others see that you could use a little support or help. Nothing could be further from the reality of the situation. Our husbands and children can ask for anything at all to put more obligations our way, but if we do the same it then falls under the catagory of "nagging". We are total, naggy, cranky-ass bitches. The entire house will feel this way and act shocked that we have anything to be stressed about at all.

Our work is "expected". Anything they do is considered extraordinary. Good example: We go to an picnic for the day. I take care of the baby and any request from my kids for more corn on the cob or whatever. Bob sits with a group of guys and drinks beer. If I ask for anything at all from him, it is "poor Bob", she is such a nag. So, asking for help is out, doing everything all day is overlooked, but let him jump up once during that 10 hour day and change a diaper and he is praised by all, I am told how lucky I am and he is the hero. At the end of the day, we are driving home with him all relaxed and buzzed and me completely worn out. He will then have the nerve to ask with annoyance, at my obvious tiredness, "What the hell is wrong with YOU??". I reply, "I'm just tired.". Which I feel is quite nice considering I want to say, "I hate your lazy ass, you selfish prick." and I am hit with a long , disgusted sigh and a "You are ALWAYS tired, geesh".

The kids learn well by example and treat me with the same attitude. Once after cleaning the entire house, grocery shopping and spending half the day on a big dinner, I ask Bob, who laid on the couch watching tv for eight straight hours, to throw in a load of towels. He actually does it and then loads the dishwasher after dinner. My oldest son, Ryan, then says outloud even, "I don't want to get married and be told what to do all day, Bob has to do EVERYTHING.". Gulp, check my pulse, I think I am having a coronary!!!

Nagging is a direct result of lazy people being too stupid to actually do anything unless asked. So, why do we get the bad rap??? Sometimes I give up and just decide to be on strike for a day as the mess piles up all around me. Bob will then comment that I have not done a thing all day and he had to do everything to which I reply, "Wow, you really suck at it then, cause this place looks like shit.".

Turn around is fair play.