Interrupt

I interrupt this documenting of all the great-and-funny-moments-blog to unleash.

I plan to hit publish at the end of this blog.

For a couple of reasons.

1. I want to keep it real.  On the very outside chance someone reads this who is learning about Autism or parenting (God help you) from the words written here, I want to be real.

2. I need to get out of my head and onto paper (virtual paper counts as paper).

3. Someday, I plan for this blog to bear witness of what life was like.

The other day the Princess and I were driving home.  At some point she randomly and very rudely accused me of pulling her out of swim team and she decided, at that moment, to be mad at me.

I calmly, and then not so calmly, told her she refused to go to practice most mornings.  I would force her to go in spite of the yelling and complaining.  Once we arrived at the pool, she would refuse to swim.  Swim team cost hundreds of dollars.  We finally just stopped the madness.

She was shocked.  

"I really did all of those things?"

"Yes."

"Oh.  I don't remember that."

I don't imagine this will be the last time I am accused of awful parenting.

But I would be lying if I created this blog to look like each moment here is fun.

Lately, it has been almost the opposite of fun.

To be fair, we have moments that are great.  

I could probably find a good moment in each day.  

But I have to work hard to find that many.

Every day is hard.

Not just a little hard.  

Really hard.

Autism can really, really suck.

And then I feel awful for saying it.

Here's the deal.  

For the Prince - I can say Crohn's disease sucks.  I can say I want to take Crohn's out behind the barn and beat the snot out of it.  And in saying that, I am on his side and being a great parent.

If I say the same about Autism, I am somehow complaining about the core of my Princess and her very being.

It makes me a traitor.

But there are days, many, many days that I find this dumb disorder almost unbearable.  

I feel like it holds her hostage.

It limits her potential.

It gets in her way.

And it exhausts me.

I have to be ON as a mother every single minute.

In a lot of ways it is very similar to parenting a 2 year old every single day for 12 years.

Relationships are hard.

Going places feels impossible.

People lack understanding - even people that should know better.

Help is limited.

And sometimes my big-girl-panties just can't be pulled up.

I desperately wish I could express what I mean when I say hard.  

I wish I could adequately capture even a few hours of a typical day.

It just isn't possible to use words to explain. 

So, I sigh, and I hit publish.

And I wait for the next funny or crazy moment to document. Because those are the moments that make this journey possible. 

18 years

June 21, 1995

I spent the day getting ready for a blind-ish date.

I say "ish" because I knew who he was.  

We had mutual friends.

We had talked in person - 1 time - a year prior.

But the reason for our actual date was the involvement of an elderly man we both knew.

The date was planned.

At 6:30pm I sat on my front porch, along with my parents, and waited.

He pulled up.

Met my folks.

And we headed out.

That evening was by far the best night of my life.

I've had many, many great days and nights since that moment.

But nothing will ever compare to that night.  

We laughed.

We talked without stopping

The feelings of a first date...the butterflies, the silly laughter, the joy!

It's a first I won't forget.

I was 18 years old.

That first date was 18 years ago.  

We looked JUST. LIKE. THIS.

16 Years, and counting. I do.

Some if the hardest promises we make in our lifetime. 

I, take you, 

to be my husband, 

to have 

and 

to hold 

from this day forward, 

for better 

or 

for worse, 

for richer, 

for poorer, 

in sickness 

and 

in health, 

to love 

and

to cherish; 

from this day forward 

until death do us part.

Timing

It's interesting how things have a way of working out.

How frustrations can turn to quiet realizations.

Today was one of those days for me.

We have been planning to make the 9 hour drive to Texas to celebrate a graduation.

Our plans were to leave the big kids

Take the little Knight

Load up and head to Texas

Crash at my bother, sister-in-law, and niece's house

And celebrate graduation with some of our very best friends.

Instead...

We left the big kids

Took the little Knight

Loaded up and headed TOWARDS Texas.

We were about 30 miles into Oklahoma.  2 hours into our drive when we came to a complete stop on the Interstate.

Up ahead we could see some concerning clouds and I decided to check the weather radar.

What on earth did people do without SmartPhones?

The radar looked pretty ominous.

We flipped on the local radio station and within minutes the announcer started giving locations of Tornado Warnings.  We were 30 miles north of all storms.  But...our trip would take us right into the middle of what became four different tornado warnings all along our route.

Couple of thoughts ran through my mind:

First, before we left earlier in the day, my Prince had pulled me aside and said, "Mom, do me a favor.  Pinkie promise that you won't drive into a tornado."  I happily pinkie-promised.

Second, my thoughts circled around the fact that my life is not my own these days.  I owe it to 3 kiddos to be safe and cautious.  I get that it sounds extreme.  But knowingly driving into tornado warnings seems dumb.  And I am certain my family members, who would be left to raise my children if my husband and I died, are happy with my line of thinking.

After some talking and a brief stop for ice-cream to give the storms a chance to get better or get worse...we decided that our best option was to turn around and head back home.

In the end we drove 5 hours for ice-cream.

Back home we had dinner with Nana and Papa and the big kids.  Everyone played in the yard and enjoyed the evening, despite the change in plans.

Everyone except me.

I felt awful.

Sad to miss graduation.

Disappointed to change plans.

Guilty that we were not going to be able to be with our friends during this big event in their lives!

All of it.

As we drove home to put the little Knight into bed for the night, we talked about getting up in the morning and heading back out on the road.  If we left at 5a.m. we could make it just in time.  Just talking about it began to lift my sour mood.

As my husband was putting pj's on the Knight, he said, "feel his back?"

I did.

Fire.

I felt his head.

Surely not.

He had been fine all day.

I checked again.

But his skin was hot.

Turns out it was 102 and climbing.

All of a sudden, all of the frustration I felt about missing the trip dissolved as I considered a trip 9 hours from home, staying at someone else's house, with a sick baby.

And then he puked all over everything.

And I realized...those storms in the middle of Oklahoma today were really just a big nudge.  (**Ok, I'm kidding.  I don't really think the storm warnings were for me, specifically.)  But I found myself grateful that it happened the way it did.  That we turned around.  And that the moment my little Knight spiked a fever and puked all over the bed, we were in our house with our washing machine and multiple changes of clothes.

It really is interesting how things have a way of working out.

Exercise

It's true.

After all of these years of hearing how exercise can help with:

~depression

~general happy feelings (those blessed little endorphins)

~self-esteem

~energy

~sleep

~aches and pains

~not to mention the physical results of better muscle tone

I'm going to go ahead and say it's absolutely true.

I've been consistently exercising for the past 2 years.

6 weeks ago, I had surgery.

The requirement was no exercise for 4 weeks.  Then return slowly.

Then I ended up with a complication of surgery #1 and had a second surgery.

The second surgery was 2 weeks after the 1st.

Post-op instructions then were absolutely no exercise for 6 weeks.

I did not take it in stride.

I have been known to take bad news in stride.

And I have, on occasion, flipped my junk completely out over a bump in the road.

The later was how I handled this one.

Not cool.

I've retreated from friends.

I've stopped talking, other than the big stuff, to my husband.

I've not been the kind of mom to write books about.  Well, at least not good books.

I understand that choices are involved here.

I own it.

But the exercise made such a huge difference in my daily life.

And without it, I do not like who I am.

That kind of realization sucks.

Karma

I don't believe in it.

Sure, I throw the word around every now and then.

But, quite frankly, I think it's nonsense.

And it's a really good thing too...

Because if I believed in Karma, I'd have to stop and do some very serious evaluating of my life.  I'd have to look around and figure out what on earth I was doing wrong.

We are having a little stint (well, that's not true at all -- it's a wicked big stint) of rough moments.

It's very typical for our lives to be running wide open.

Our cups are very often running over and dripping on the floor...messing up the place.

But this stuff lately,

Well, I don't have a category.

Let's just call it rotten.

I'm trying to come up with a plan to beat the blues.

My default is to find the funny.

Can't.

Chances are I'm not gonna find the positive.

I didn't get that kind of wiring.

Current plan:  Chocolate.

I'll keep ya posted.

Just Keep Writing

I miss it when I stop.

I look back on the times I've been consistently writing, and I'm so glad to have the record.

The problem, and I have the same problem creep up a lot, is my trouble with slowing down my brain to focus on writing.

Too many spinning plates.

I am heading to Chicago this weekend.  Just me.  On an airplane. I'll be spending the weekend in meetings for Crohn's collaboration.  I'm looking forward to the opportunity.  To learning more about the road to remission and improving care for Crohn's patients.  I'm so motivated to help my Prince and I'm blessed beyond measure to be apart of something like ImproveCareNow.

On the other side of this coin, is a yucky feeling about visiting Chicago.  And if I'm being completely honest, I have to admit that I'm sad about my trip.  It wasn't that long ago my trips to Chicago were filled with seeing friends: coffee, laughing, talking, wine, more laughing, more talking and plans to meet again as soon as possible.  But things changed, the friendships ended.  And I find myself preparing to visit a place that is connected to memories I have of these people.  And I find feelings being unearthed that I'm not interested in entertaining.  ((sigh))  Life is an interesting journey.

When I come home on Sunday, I've decided to hit the pause button on the spinning plates for a few weeks.  I have been doing a lot of things...but none of them very well.  I find myself opening and closing the garage door many, many times in a day.  Planning meals I am not eating with my family.  Getting out toys that I'm not sitting down to play with my little Knight.  Bookmarking books that I am not reading to the big kids.  Writing notes (via text) that I am not home long enough to say, in person, to my guy.  And it all needs to come to stop.  Not forever.  Just long enough to reset the priorities.  Finish the to-do's that need finished.  And start again.  I'm gonna stop my feet long enough to look everyone in my family in the eye when they talk.  I am looking forward to the change.

Choices

When choosing between two things...I choose the one I like the best. Not always the one that has a higher priority.

For example...here is what I chose today:

Which means, I did NOT choose this:

Little Mini Melt Down

So the emotional learning curve continues.

My little Knight is almost 2.  He is in a huge daddy and papa phase.  Which means he barely likes me.  No hugs, no kisses, no snuggles.

So I stopped feeding him.

Kidding.  I'm kidding.

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

The Prince is really pushing the limits of my ability to parent.  At times he is literally the most in-tune child...wise beyond his years.  He asks very thoughtful questions.  He can carry on a conversation better than many adults.  He is aware of people and their feelings.  He can empathize.  He can read between the lines.  It often amazes me.

And then, he flips.  Super-wicked short fuse.  Inability to see beyond his own desires.  So focused on winning the debate he stops listening.  Irrational.

I end up sending him to his room and standing in the middle of the kitchen scratching my head.

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

And then there is this other thing.

Completely unrelated to parenting.

It's about me.  And my bizarre brain wiring.  And my emotions.  And community.  And people.  And the way we treat each other.

And it's making me crazy.

I'm doing this thing for the first time.  A competition.  I only signed up because, well, I'm not sure why.

I guess mostly to learn more.  Push harder.  Experience something new.

I'm not a fan.

In fact, I am close to truly being miserable.

So, I'm trying to sort through what the issue is for me, personally.

Here's the deal.  My experience with competition is limited, if not absent completely.  This is by choice.  I hate it.  I don't like to race towards any finish if I am racing another person.

I don't like to lose, certainly...who does?

But there is something else...

I'm not exactly positive what "it" is.

I love, Love, LOVE to cheer people on.  It's why I became  labor and delivery nurse.  I love to be apart of and help people work towards something unbelievably hard and celebrate with them in the end.

I love to watch people accomplish things.  To finish things.  To do their very best.

In school, a million years ago, I was a 100% girl.  On any paper, test, assignment...my goal was 100%.  Every. Single. Time.  Anything less was just not ok with me.  I didn't meet the goal always, obviously.  But I was always focused on that end.  And here's the other part of that equation.  I believed, completely, that everyone else should aim for and accomplish the same.  I wanted everyone getting the top score.  I don't remember ever (secretly) hoping that my classmates would score less than me.  I hated when a test was over and kids would start comparing answers.  Trying to find some relief in the majority.  "What did you put on number 7?"  "What was your answer to the last question?"  Those conversations made my skin crawl.  I always walked away.

So back to my current life experience.

I'm doing this thing.  With these people.  I love these people.  Really, honestly sharing my life and my time with these folks.  And what I'm feeling about competition is that it doesn't build relationships.  It challenges them - for me.  And it's not worth it.  In secret, I wonder if it becomes not about celebrating victories together...but about hoping to beat your friend by just a little bit.  It should be about doing YOUR personal best and walking away fulfilled.  But I wonder if it becomes about doing something and then watching to see what everyone else has accomplished before you fully determine how you will feel.  At times, for me, it's become more about comparison and winning vs losing.  It has become score keeping.  It's not for me.

I can fully respect that my opinion...this opinion...isn't shared by my friends and community.  I am married to a man that is wired to love this stuff.  To watch the scores.  He freely compares numbers and abilities and doesn't get emotional about it at all.  Crazy fascinating to me.

Through all of this I've learned something about myself...If I have to chose between relationships or winning (or losing)...I chose relationships.  Every. Single. Time.

Bottom line.  I am an awful competitor.  A wicked awesome cheerleader.  And in the end, I don't want roadblocks placed in relationships...life is hard enough already.

***Update: I feel like I need to clarify a touch. This thing I'm processing applies VERY specifically to a 5 week competition. Not the communityof people. Or this thing we all do on a regular basis. It's about this specific period of time.

Shake your tail feathers...

It's SNOWING!  

A big one.

The winter storm we've been waiting for...so that we can say we've had winter.

The weather reports are estimating that we may get a foot of snow!

A foot!

That's a lot for us.

Plus, in our country estate...it's gonna look white for a very long way!

I got so excited I cooked and cleaned!

During my cleaning, I discovered that my little thief of a baby had stashed many of my measuring spoons and cups in his toy boxes.

The Princess is already home from school...because she's refined this really nice trick of fake-puking to get sent home from school.

School will most likely be cancelled...so my chicks will all be home and together for a solid 24 hours.

And if my hubby can't travel he may be home (working from home...but I can see his face whenever I want, which is bonus for me).

In all my snowy-excitement...it sounds fun.

I reserve the right to change that story AFTER they've been home with me for 24 hours.

On another note....

I had an awkward little meeting the other day.

It was fantastic!

However, that led to one thing...that led to another...

And as per typical, when one thing leads to another...

People got annoying.

A touch of drama took center stage.

And things had to be said.

For.The.Love.

I have a point in all of this.

Here it is:

Dear Kiddos,
     When life hits you hard.  You'll be offered choices.  You can chose to do the right thing or the easy thing.  If you are lucky, those will be the same.  But more likely, they will be opposing choices.  Choose right.  Because "easy" -- isn't.  It will most definitely feel good for a moment.  But the moment is just that...a moment.  Brief.  Fleeting.  And then all the consequences of that easy choice will fall on your head and squish you like a little bug.  So choose right.  And walk tall.

Love,
Mom

P.s.  If, however, you completely lose your head and choose the easy way...I promise you this:  I will not sit back quietly.  I will get in the mess and fight.  And when the world presses in a little too much,  I'll stand in the way and force it to take a few steps back.  So do us both a favor and choose "right."  Xoxo

Channeling our inner "mess with us and we'll shoot you dead."

Photo Blog in 3, 2, 1...Go!

My college friend!  We met for a mini-girls trip.  For the record...I canNOT take good self-photos with a cell phone.  I'm (1.) too old, (2.) not coordinated enough (3.) usually smiling like I'm on drugs.

---

I said, "The trash can needs to go to the road."  They said, "Oh!  Can we do it...it'll be fun to get out in the snow!"  I said, "Sure, I'll follow you in the car and pick you up at the end of the driveway to head to school."  **Pushing, dragging, sliding, screaming, and hitting all in blowing snow at 7 degrees before 8:00 a.m.**  My best guess is that next time the conversation will go a different direction.  But it was fun while it lasted.

DVD in the car anyone?  I say, Yes!

---

Thankful for dirt.  And water. And ultimately the union of the two.  And thankful for little boys and country homes!

---

I'm really glad I went to all that trouble to set up the train table.

I am certain that the only reason I take his picture SO much is because he's around all of the time.  Also, he's very cute.

See this...it's my hand.  Dying to know what happened?  100 pull-ups.  So, don't tell me you can't do something...this is proof that if you want it bad enough, it can be done.

---

My husband, who is also the best dad ever, made this Valentine's-Day-School-Box for the Prince.  It's easy to see why I am madly in love with him.  :-)

---

While it may look like a pain face on the little Knight, he was actually squealing!  And possibly struggling for air.  But mostly squealing.

Just when I think I can't love them any bigger...they go all group wrestling in the living room and make me feel like the luckiest mom alive.  

---

I should be cleaning my kitchen

You know that moment when you realize you are doing ANYthing else besides the one thing you should be doing.  

My kitchen is dirty.

So far I've returned a few phone calls.  Fixed my hair 3 times.  Sat in every chair in my house.  Tried to read a book.  Checked Facebook.  Made a few "to do" lists. And now I'm blogging...about nothing.

I really hate cleaning the kitchen.

Oh!  I renewed my nursing license.  That was important!  I can now continue to be an actively licensed RN that doesn't work.  How awesome were those years of school and thousands of dollars of tuition?

Also, I drove a snack into my Prince at his school.  After I woke up the sleeping Knight...20 minutes into his nap.  The Prince is going through some "moments" at school.  I want to make sure he knows I'm always on his side.  So I'm making a few extra trips to school these days.  

That reminds me, one of phone calls today was with his teacher.  I spent a little time advocating for him and sticking up for him in spite of his punk-like choices.  Nothing I like better than risking my relationship with teachers and schools to stick up for my kids.  (read: sarcasm).  

This is on the heels of a little visit I had with the District Superintendent last week.  I set up a meeting with him because I needed to do a little advocacy for my kiddos.  It was fantastic.  The Superintendent was...well...super.  But as I was walking in to his office, I almost swallowed my tongue.  It's hard to meet with people face to face and say things they may not like.  I act like I'm tough.  But really...I want to curl up and have my mommy do it for me.

The next thing I'm going to do instead of cleaning the kitchen is call the doctor's office and find out if the lab work the Prince had done today showed anything.  Or maybe I'll call the other doctor's office about the Princess and get her next appointment rescheduled to match the appointment for the Prince so when we go to the big city for appointments...3.5 hours away...they can all be on the same day.  

Guess what.

I'm not cleaning the dumb kitchen.  

Throwback Weekend

I met a college friend for a quick 24 hour girls trip...in the town where we went to college.  For me, it was only my freshman year.  For her, it was her entire undergrad home base.

So many thoughts and memories, regrets, and what-ifs played out in my mind as I drove back to reality today.  I suppose I do this kind of "thinking" as much as the average person.  But, for the most part, I don't swim around in a pool of regrets.  For some reason, I found myself there today.

Here's the story:

In May (a few Mays ago) I graduated from High School with big plans to attend the State University.  Degree all mapped out.

June I met my Prince Charming.  I was young.  He was a little less young...had 4 years on me.  Our relationship skyrocketed to serious FAST.

August I left home and moved to college for a week of Sorority Rush.

I pledged and joined Kappa Alpha Theta.

This is how I met J, my friend that I spent the weekend with.

That year at college was a combination of being homesick, away from a boyfriend that quickly became a fiancé, changing majors and not feeling settled, obligations to a sorority but feeling out of place all of the time, gaining the typical freshman 15 - twice, feeling very uncomfortable in my own skin, figuring out that less is more in my world-always, and (looking back) my first taste of depression.

As J and I sat in a little bistro having lunch on Saturday, I watched college kids laughing and eating, studying, and really having a great time.  I didn't do this my freshman year at college.  I just didn't.  I didn't take advantage of the opportunities and the surroundings.  I didn't realize that stage/season wasn't going to last forever.

After lunch we ran by the Sorority house.  J lived 3 of her undergrad years in the house.  I left before I had the chance to live in the house at all.  It made me sad.  I missed the opportunity to experience something unique to a period in life that you simply can't recreate.

It's funny how many memories flooded me as we drove around.  I cannot imagine how many more I would have created had I just stayed put.

We think we know so much at 18.

At every turn I watched 18 year old girls laughing and chatting and I wanted to grab them (not creepy at all, huh?) and say, "Do Not Take This For Granted!"

I think about who I was at 18.  And I kinda want to apologize to people.  Then I think about the people who met me when I was 18 and forever hold that person in their head as the me I am...rather than the me I am now.  {yeah, go ahead and re-read that one...I'll wait}  Those folks met a version of me that needed a lot of growing up room and, quite frankly, some medication.

Today, I can easily say...I'm good.  I feel good.  My life is full.  My choices have paid off.  I wake up in the morning and I'm happy to be where I am (errr...after a cup of coffee).

But if I could have a short second with my 18 year old self...I'd pull her aside and I'd smack her.  I'd tell her to quit being so serious.  I'd remind her that she had endless opportunities ahead of her.  I'd let her her know that soon her choices would be the kinds of choices that last for her lifetime...but she wasn't there yet.  She could change and roam and live.  I would pinch that fatty part on the back of her arm and when she started to squeak...I would tell her to go big and then (and only then) it would be just fine to go home.

News Feed

Ok, ya'll -- 

I'm into celebrating the small victories these days.

For instance, yesterday I fed the kids fresh grilled salmon, broccoli, and grapes.  They ate it UP.  Now don't get me wrong, they ate McDonalds chicken nuggets the day before...so we eat our fair share (and probably your share too) of awful food.  But once in awhile I feel wicked awesome.  Mark it.

My Princess has fallen in obsession with Tolkien.  She spends hours reading.  I am beyond excited to see her interests grow.  The downside is...she is insistent that we do her hair like an elf.

My baby has become fascinated with Elmo.  He has spent the first 21 months of his life TV free.  His new love for Elmo affords me a few blissful moments during the daily chase.  I have to say, however, I find myself singing "I've got a new way to walk" by Destiny's Child.  This isn't good news.

The Prince is following a strict behavior chart at home these days.  Ultimately, I am a chart failure.  I LOVE to make them.  I stink at following them.  {sigh}  He's being a bit of punk at school and home and well...most places.  Out of desperation I made a chart.  12 items he gets "graded on" each day.  He LOVES the chart.  Very performance oriented this child.

I think I graduated from Therapy yesterday.  I'm holding the graduation loosely because I can never be too sure.  But...I think I'm done.  I have so many thoughts about this milestone.  As I've tried to put it into words...I'm not sure I can.  I am overwhelmingly grateful to the Therapist I was able to work with and learn from over the past year and a half.  I have learned so much.  I feel different.  I'm more settled.  The flip-side is the goodbye part.  I keep telling myself that therapists have many, many patients and they are used to goodbyes.  I'm finding the "ending" a little difficult.  But folks, I cannot say enough good about the process of therapy.  I'm certain I'll continue to write about my experience.  Right now, the part of the process that seems to be the most worthy of expressing is staying the course.  In the beginning I couldn't wait for each appointment.  I literally counted down time between sessions.  It felt like a life-line of sorts.  About a year in, the winds changed some.  I had some appointments, while not bad by any means, I left feeling like it had been an hour of chit-chat.  During those weeks I really found myself considering maybe it was time to be done.  I didn't quit because I couldn't figure out how to say the words.  It would be too dramatic to say that I felt "unfinished" but in all reality, I felt that if this was as good as it got - I was going to be seriously ticked.  And because I had appointments scheduled.  And because I really trusted my therapist, I just continued to go.  I continued to talk.  And over the last 3 months real significant changes happened in my life.  I bet this timeline is different for EVERYONE!  For me, if I had walked away 6 months ago I would have quit therapy with great tools in my possession.  But I wouldn't have finished strong.  So here's to finishing strong!

Elmo is over.  I'm back on duty.

Do me a favor and ... don't

I am mad today.

I'll spare you the details.

But, I'm a.n.g.r.y.

I'm using this post to protect myself, quite frankly, from the very real possibility of direct confrontation.

Maybe I'm taking the wimpy way.

I'd like to think I'm venting, safely.

So here it is...

I don't ask for help well.  I think I accept it ok, when it's offered.  But I struggle to ask.

But several weeks ago I asked.  I felt awkward and awful asking.  I felt so desperate and nervous.  I held out hope that I would be understood. That I would hear back.  That the help I asked for would be offered.

What I heard was nothing.

Silence.

I tried to tell myself it was ok.

Maybe the help I asked for was too much trouble.  Maybe it struck a nerve and couldn't be given.  Maybe the request didn't make sense. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

But the truth is...

The silence was the answer to my request.

The answer was no.

I've been so mad.

It's time for me to stop being mad.

However, the deal is...by releasing this anger...I'm releasing the hope I had in you.

For so many years I have cared so much.

I have history, memories, moments, all tied up in times with you.

There is bound to be a time when I'll see ya.  And when I do...I will no longer be so. very. angry.

**P.s.  Dear Kids, Hubby, Mom, Dad, Brothers, and In-laws...this isn't about any of you!  I'm still very much angry at each of you on any given day.  You don't get off that easy!  xoxo

36

It's my birthday.

I wanted to write a long, philosophical post about getting older and how I've changed.

But then I didn't get very much sleep last night.

And I cried.  (Stop, I like my sleep.)

My kids have been perfect today.

My hubby has gone out of his way to spoil me.

My friends have taken time to send me birthday wishes.

All of it has been fantastical!

I already love 36.

Giddy

I am in the process of reconnecting with a college friend.

We are looking at times to meet for a weekend.

I cannot express how excited I am.

I have great memories of the time I spent with her in college.

We were in each other's weddings.

And then time and distance got in the way.

I've been really sad about that.

It's so very easy for me to fold in.  I am such an introvert.  Life, as you know, here is full of chaos.  I am tired more often then I am not. And selfishly, when there isn't a fire to put out I sit and stare...often holding a bucket of water..waiting for the next fire.

But some things just need to be done - fire or not - and working to connect, enjoy, and laugh with an old friend is tops on my list!

I lied

Turns out I do have plans for the new year.

The list seems to grow.

The moment I denied making New Year's Resolutions, I was flooded with ideas.

I wonder if any of these ideas will make it into February?

~Project organize.  My hubby would say we are organized.  I'm not so sure.  See, my dad gave me his obsessive need to organize.  It's a part of my wiring that I love.  I plan to tackle bits and pieces of the house every week.  This week is the medicine cupboard.  Remember we have a few "issues" around here.  All of which require a pharmacy-palooza to survive.  This week I am working on a makeover for the drugs.  Stay tuned for the before and after photos.  If you can find the edge of a seat you may want to sit on it.

~Post-it Notes.  I will be seasoning the house with Post-it notes.  To-dos, ideas, reminders, loves, and wishes...all on Post-its.

~Blogging.  I hope to blog every. single. day.  I am going to have to come up with a plan.  A blog schedule.

~Reading.  Every day.  Family reading time.

The Beginning - Again - For the First Time - or Second

The first day of 2013.

I don't make New Year's Resolutions.

I don't like to fail.

Last year I picked a trait that I wanted to have "more" of.  I didn't do anything dramatic.  I just wanted the trait to be something that came to my mind frequently so I could focus on improving that quality in myself and hopefully develop some new habits.

I've decided to pick a new trait for 2013.

This year my focus will be "Helpful"

I'm not naturally helpful.  I get pretty tunnel visioned and forgot to pause and stay flexible enough to help when help is needed.

I was telling my husband about my thoughts today and when I said, "I'm just not naturally helpful."  His eyebrows shot up and he said, "really?"  To which I rolled my eyes.  And he got a nice little laugh out of the whole thing.  (**I'm starting to worry about giving him the go-ahead to be honest with me about the pants...it may have given a little TOO much confidence!)

So there it is...

Bring on a New Year.