Oh, what a day...

Hope everyone had a great Christmas! Ours started around 8:00 a.m., which is pretty late for us. The kids stayed up later than usual so they were fine with sleeping in.
Stockings, masses of presents, overfull tummies... family. All my peeps in one place. One busy, noisy, warm place. Little girl screams of delight (four sets of them) at whatever the package contained. A rare nap with my littlest girls. Hugs. Pajamas ALL DAY.
Sigh. What a great day.
Pictures to come soon.

Things I love

A little variation on Thankfulness.

Little girl fingers wrapped around mine. Better yet, little girl arms wrapped around me.

The way Mike smells. It isn't just me, either. Many have testified to this fact, and no, he doesn't wear cologne.

Warm, fuzzy, baby kittens.

The way Hannah and Ryley just organized their closet - all their hanging clothes are grouped by color. I swear they didn't get that from me.

Sunny days.

My bed.

Fuzzy socks. Jeans days.

The way Abby pats me on the arm when I lay down with her. The fact that she has gone multiple nights in a row with big girl panties on without wetting her bed. The resulting decrease in sheets to wash.

The way clean laundry smells.

Bacon-wrapped chicken. Cheese dip. Hershey's bliss chocolate.

These faces.

Lemon Starburst. Unsweet Tea. Sonic ice.
Life.

Random

Hey... just sitting home with Abby today - she's got a yucky cough. She's blissfully in the land of "only child" and "unlimited TV time" right now. I decided that I'd whined enough for a while and today I'd rather focus my efforts on funny stuff. Well, at least I think it's funny.

I think I mentioned in an earlier blog that we got kittens back around Halloween. They're awfully cute but awfully energetic... particularly in the wee hours of the night. They've recently discovered how to defy gravity and run sideways across our headboard (it's fabric). Quite amazing really, and also very noisy - claws make a popping sound when they grab and release fabric. Consequently, they've also been...ahem... "taught" to fly. I'm sorta kidding. The conscience and good judgment are not so prominent in the throes of sleep.

Abby asked for some cranberry juice this morning. It was left over from last Saturday's mini-party with our friends. I'm positive she doesn't like it, it's very sour, but she's also very "sour" when you tell her no. For the record, I suggested she taste it before we fill her cup completely up. Her reply was "I appreciate that taste." (what? Hello! almost four-year-old) She still thought she needed a whole glassful. Approximately 30 minutes later she informed me the juice was bad. Right.

Ryley found a black marker somewhere in her room the other day and brought it to me. She declared that it was a "pregnant" marker.

Took me a minute to figure out she meant "permanent".

Today she declared that the kitten smelled like "tooted". We may not completely understand the use of adjectives versus verb tense yet...

One evening during the question game - in response to "what is your favorite toy?" - Abby suggested that Mommy's favorite toy was "the long shaky thing". If you don't get it, I declare that your mind is pure. If you get it, come on over to the dark side. Mike laughed for a good thirty minutes over that one. For purposes of clearing my own name, she was talking about Hannah's crazy ink pen that wiggles when you write so that your letters are loopy. Kids say the darnedest things.

Of course, there's always the famous ketchup-dropping incident... Hannah was all of two or three years old maybe when she watched me grab the economy-sized ketchup bottle out of the fridge, drop it, and consequently send globs of ketchup flying everywhere in the kitchen. I was aggravated but had no idea the impact it would leave on Hannah. Ketchup is apparently sacred in our house. Not only did she freak out then, she continues to bring it up periodically (did I mention she's eight now??) and for extra fun - when Mike spills something he loves to say "Remember that time that Momma dropped the ketchup???" Punk.

So, to incriminate him... Hannah was two when he taught her the game of pretending to take someone's nose and "showing" it to them (really a fist with your thumb stuck through two of your fingers). She was all good and fine with that game until the day he "took" her nose, "threw" it into the blender and turned it on... Priceless... although it didn't seem to stick in her mind as clearly as the ketchup incident. Priorities, I guess. You can very possibly live without your nose, but KETCHUP.....

All right, Abby's kicking me off now. She wants to go to PBS Kids.com. All I want for Christmas is my very own laptop....

So cold...

I officially have the winter blues. The sun did not shine for a single second today and it was bitterly cold.

I'm not even warm and fuzzy on the inside. I physically shivered all day today, which was to be expected when it's a whopping 28 degrees outside... but I think I mentally shivered all day, too.

I don't really know how to explain what I mean by that. When I'm physically cold, my whole body clenches up and tries to draw into itself as far as it possibly can, and shivers uncontrollably - which eventually makes me tired and sleepy. Think of it like trying to see very small print at a distance (or close up, for some of you) and squinting for long periods of time. Eventually, your eyes get tired and give up.

I feel that way mentally. My thoughts and emotions have been clenching up and drawing as far into the depths as they can get, shivering. I'm exhausted from the effort, but unlike the physical symptoms, they aren't cured by blankets or sleep.

What is the cure? I know what it is - emotional release. Gut-wrenching, screaming, sobbing, belly-laughing, three-sheets-to-the-wind release. I haven't cried in months. Maybe even years. Not really, really cried. There have been some frustrated tears, but only the kind that are ashamedly brushed away and not talked about again. I have belly-laughed, but not nearly as often as I should. There have been few if any sheets in the wind (takes too long to recover these days... college is DEFINITELY over).

There has been lots of screaming. Too much. Enough that the physical satisfaction from that kind of exertion is overshadowed by the shame and guilt from not being able to control myself better.

I've always had this problem. I don't like to lose it in front of other people. They don't really know what to do with me when it happens, and I don't like to make other people uncomfortable. I'm not big on other outward displays of emotion, either... even the happy ones. If I've laughed until I can't breathe in your presence, you're probably on my list of guardians for my children. I'll be honest, I have trouble losing it even when it's just me. I read some very, very heart-wrenching blogs that would have most men sobbing like babies, and all I could muster was misty eyes.

I'll tell you where it's gotten me. People outside of my mental shield think I'm the most stable and well-adjusted person in the world (that evokes a little giggle, I must admit). Of course, when people think you're stable, you feel the need to act stable, which perpetuates the problem and guarantees a breakdown at the least opportune moment - like in your VP's office? Yikes. Then they think you're nuts and likely to blow at any second. Great.

And, just in case you get the urge or the opportunity, I am NOT ready to talk about any of this. I get all red-faced and nauseous just thinking about it. I miss my friends. The ones I wasn't ashamed to lose it in front of. The ones I told everything to no matter how stupid or awful it was, which logically resulted in less freak-outs in the first place.

I miss my mommy and daddy. They're physically close by and willingly available, but I haven't worked out how to be a parent and yet lean on my own parents when I need it. They really do more for us than we should ask of them or let them, so guilt plays into it too... I'm so busy trying to give them their space and I'm not sure they've even asked for it. I never want them to feel like they have to ask for it.

There's a saying that sometimes it's better to do something and ask for forgiveness later than to ask for permission. My brain screams at the thought of doing anything that may require forgiveness. I'd rather ask for permission for EVERYTHING. At least then I know for sure what's going to make you mad :) and I can weigh that against how badly I want/need to do it (and added bonus of being prepared for the wrath rather than it catching me off guard).

Well, I have yet again stayed up way too late NOT waiting on my husband to get home. It was a blog full of random thoughts, I know. You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

Not Me Monday

Just saw this on another blog and I love it... it's so me. It's called "Not Me Monday". Click here for the rules.

I am so NOT waiting on my husband to get home. Oops... he just walked in. Busted (me, not him). I did NOT give him a hard time about being out late, either. Nor did I give him a hard time about having to pick up all three girls today.

I also did NOT feed my kids french fries and crackers for dinner. That would be ridiculous.

I am NOT staying up way too late writing two blogs in one day. On a similar note, I will NOT be cranky tomorrow nor will I take it out on everyone around me. Just. Stay. Away.

I DID NOT pick my nose in the car on the way home. Nope, not me!

I DO NOT laugh every time my three-year-old says "poop". We do not have a house rule that you can't say "poop" at the dinner table, either.

I did not almost cry when my oldest made her cartwheel on beam (see previous post).

I in no way goofed off at work today.

I did not eat four pieces of chocolate chip pizza tonight. My stomach is therefore NOT upset with me and my rear end did NOT grow another 6 inches.

I do NOT wish everyone a good night. You people suck. :)

Persistence

It was an interesting and coincidental day. Normally, I pick up the little girls from daycare around 4 and head home. Mike stays at work late and picks up Hannah from gymnastics around 6:30. Today, however, he went to hang with the guys after work, so I agreed (reluctantly, I admit) to pick Hannah up. This means that normally I would get the girls, go home, piddle for a few hours, load them back up, and pick Hannah up... then home to dinner, goof-off time, and then bed.

Not today. First, I got hung up at work until 5. Not a huge deal, but nixes the idea of going home before coming back to pick up Hannah. So, I get the little girls and decide that we'll go watch her practice until time to go home. Less driving time and gas, and usually a less frazzled mommy as a bonus.

We arrive at the gym around 5:45. Hannah is practicing her floor routine, which I love to watch. I've watched this skinny little girl perform floor routines for 3 years now... and it never ceases to amaze me how graceful she's become. She's a natural dancer (according to her ballet teacher, not me) but she's so long-limbed that it seems impossible that she would have that kind of control over them. God knows I didn't... still tripping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

Her coach comes over and tells me that Hannah is having trouble doing a cartwheel on the beam (you think??? Like that's hard or something??? Again - cracks in the sidewalk, people!!!). She'll do the cartwheel all the way over until it's time to put her feet back on the beam, and then she leans over the side and drops onto the floor. According to her coach, she does this intentionally for whatever reason. He has told her that unless she puts a foot on the beam, she won't get to compete in the meet this Friday. (For non-gymnastics people like me: Apparently, if you start the cartwheel but don't land a foot on the beam, you lose 1.6 points (out of 10 total). If you start the cartwheel, touch one foot to the beam, and then fall off, you only lose 0.5 points.) I get it. He's not saying she has to stick the cartwheel, just that she needs to stick a foot out there before she falls. Then he tells me she can stay until 8:30 (yes, p.m., and FYI - she starts practice at 4!) to keep trying it if she wants to. At this point it's about 6:15.

I'll be honest. My first thought is "Seriously??? Does this crap ever happen when Mike picks her up? Noooooooooo." But, I know she really wants to go to the meet, and the girls are fairly contained for the moment... so we sit.

I watch her try cartwheels on the beam for 45 minutes straight. Coaches talk to her and watch, then move on. On she goes. I call her over to ask if she wants me to get her something to eat, which I then do. She goes back to the beam until I return around 7. She eats quickly and then back on the beam she goes. She's frustrated, but continues for another 15 minutes or so.

I call her back over and tell her she's got 10 more minutes. The girls are getting rowdy and Hannah still has homework to do. She tells me she's trying, and I tell her that I know she is, but that she seems to be doing the same thing over and over. I tell her I know she wants to go to the meet, but that we can't stay any longer, so she might want to try something different for the next few minutes.

I look up just in time to see her left foot land squarely on the beam, wobble, and then fall off. I jump up and down. I ask her to do it again. She misses, jumps back on, then lands the foot again...wobbles, but stays on! I made her do it about 5 more times before we left, but by that time she wasn't frustrated anymore so it was no big deal.

Wow. Let's recap - my eight year old has the presence of mind to not only WANT to practice for 2 and a half hours straight, but also has the drive to practice the same skill for over an hour straight. What a life lesson for her... but what an eye-opener for me! I was so proud of her, not for getting the skill, but for continuing to try! On the way home, I ask her if she falls off on purpose because she's scared to put that foot on the beam. Turns out, she fell one day and skinned her elbow badly enough to keep it fresh in her mind. I get it - she can't hit the beam if her feet aren't anywhere near it.... but another teachable moment inserted itself nicely at this point. "Hannah, how long did the skinned elbow hurt?" (not very long) followed by "Your coach isn't going to let you compete unless you stick that foot on the beam. Are you scared enough for that to be okay? You can do it or not, it's your choice...but that skill is part of your routine and you can't compete without it. Are you okay with that?" (nooooooo). Prouder still.

We'll see how Wednesday goes. I hope she nails it.

Do I have that kind of persistence? I wonder...

Pictures...

As promised in the last post... here they are!!

Since I've been lagging in my blog responsibilities...

I'm overdue for my Thankfulness blog. While it isn't a particularly original topic this time of year, I'm still holding myself to the edict I made here. I am going to change up the format a little. I wasn't able to keep up with my daily items very well this time with all the holiday traveling, so I thought I'd try more of a narrative feel.

My last Thankful post was on November 12th. Therefore, I have 17 days to account for. Technically, then, I would owe you 51 items to be thankful for. (Please, take a moment to be wowed by my mathematical genius... okay, fine... I used a calculator.) However, that sort of obsessive need for details and to follow the rules to their ridiculous end kinda takes the meaning out of it, doesn't it?? And, that same part of my personality is one I believe I could use some work on. I'm just going to ramble away and see where it goes.

Sad but true... I'm ecstatic about the fact that a friend insisted that I buy and read the Twilight book series. They were fantastic and I spent an entire weekend doing nothing but reading all four of them. Seriously. The laundry pile reached mass proportions and threatened to take over the world but I didn't care!!! What is it about vampires (and sometimes pirates, arrogant princes, and other manly men images) that seem to make us all googly-eyed? Heck, I wanted to be a vampire by the time I was done.

On with it.... I'm thankful for an entire 9 days away from work. I didn't even THINK about it for 5 of them! Those blissful days entitled me to some serious family time with not only my kids and Mike but also with both my and his families. We spent a great deal of time in a car, but the kids are seasoned travelers so other than our cramped quarters it was fairly painless. It's shocking the amount of stuff that we cram into the Explorer before we even put us in it.

I'm glad that we got to spend time with Mike's mom. She doesn't get to see the kids very often (once or twice a year) and this time they were all old enough to remember her from the last visit. The last time she came up to our house back in the spring, Abby asked her when Granny Nina was coming to visit (in case you haven't guessed, Granny Nina is Mike's mom...oops). It's unfortunate that she lives so far away, but since neither of us are willing to move it's a situation we make the best of when we can.

I'm thankful for the size of our family. My side of the family is fairly small, but Mike's is HUGE. Divorced parents will do that for you, I guess, but the kids really enjoy the fact that they get multiple iterations of the same holiday with different groups of people. They are loved by a lot of great people and that is something that I will never take for granted.

I am utterly and completely thankful for spending the morning doing completely girly and out-of-character things like dressing my kids up and curling their hair with BOWS even. They love to have their hair curled and I'm not a complete monster - even I can operate a curling iron if necessary.

I'm glad for the wonderful day we spent with my family. I'm still very, very selfish about spending the actual holiday with my family. Mike doesn't mind and I'm VERY thankful for that, because I've never spent a single holiday without them. For those of you that know me, you know that my Mommy and Daddy are quite possibly the greatest people on earth. I don't know of anyone that has been around for longer than a few seconds that hasn't had the privilege of being spoiled by them.

I have some GREAT pictures from that day that I'll post later.

I'm sure I didn't make it anywhere near 51 items. It didn't seem appropriate somehow since the items that did make it are pretty significant. I would be remiss if I didn't say I was glad about beer, though. It doesn't reach the level of Thankful or Ecstatic but it holds its own. :) Hope you all had as great a holiday as I did.

This week's list of things I was thankful for

Thursday, Nov. 6

1. A work meeting on the need and value of training people. I was actually fired up about something work-related for the first time in a loooonnnnggg time. Maybe I've found my calling.
2. Granny & Papa. This falls in the category of really, really, REEAAALLLYY thankful.
3. JEANS DAY!!! Every Thursday you can donate $1 to wear jeans to work. I'd pay $5 but don't tell them that.

Friday, Nov. 7

1. Happy, healthy babies. I take them for granted far too often.
2. Short work days! I left at lunch!
3. Really, really good friends. I don't have a lot of them, but the ones I have are truly great.
4. Super-smart kids. Hannah's parent-teacher conference was tonight.

Saturday, Nov. 8

1. Five wonderful years spent with my Ryley Taylor (okay, so I cheated a few days - she turns 5 on the 10th)
2. A great afternoon with family, which produced this opportunity


3. A well-planned and well-executed day... no rushing around or forgetting things.

Sunday, Nov. 9

1. Watching Hannah at a gym meet and getting little shivers of excitement when I saw how far she's come from last year. I'll post video if I can.
2. A no-laundry weekend. And no, I don't mean that there wasn't any to do....please. that's right, I didn't do ANY.
3. A generally nice day weather-wise and otherwise.

Monday, Nov. 10

1. Nobody said "It sounds like someone has a case of the Mondays" to me. Wait. Yes they did, but they were totally kidding. (If you haven't seen Office Space that comment will make no sense to you.)
2. A warm, toasty house. I went all crazy and turned the thermostat up to....72!!!
3. Giggling in bed with Mike. (Okay, mostly I giggled. Boys don't really giggle, do they?)

Tuesday, Nov. 11

1. Sick days home from work. Not so much thankful for the sick part as for the sleeping all day part and watching stupid movies part.
2. Dayquil. Wonderful stuff. Nyquil. Even better.
3. Not having to cook dinner (Thanks Papa!)

Wednesday, Nov. 12th

1. A truly productive day at work. Stop laughing. It really happened!!!
2. My boss returning to work soon. Seriously.
3. A luxury lunch at Copeland's with Mike. Yummy. Extra bonus when we saw that they deep-fry turkeys for Thanksgiving, which in turn became my culinary contribution to Thanksgiving Dinner (you can laugh at that one. I can totally cook but SO choose not to.)

All in all, a nice, quiet, slow week.

Report on extra-credit work from last week (Three things I said I'd work on):
Patience, patience, patience... It's in short supply and as a result I'm losing my cool far more often than I should. If I did better at all, it was a small improvement. Abby continues to wet her pants after going 3 months without doing so and I'm LOSING MY MIND!!!
Creating more opportunities for events to be thankful for - stop using "I'm too tired" as an excuse. I did better here. I let my kids play with makeup and tonight we're getting the fish tank ready for Hannah's new goldfish.
Calmly and rationally telling my husband why I'm irritated instead of letting it fester until I blow up. I think I only blew up once, and it was a small blow-up. A "poof" really. Not the "KA-BOOM" kind. Maybe you should ask him how I'm doing. (Then you will immediately tell me everything he said!!) Oh dear, I really haven't made it far at all. Better luck next week :)

Did I give my "everything" today?

I've just finished reading the latest post on one of the blogs I follow - Bring the Rain (link on the right of my blog). The song that plays when you first open is called "All that I can say" and one of the lines in the song is "This is all that I can give, that's my everything". I was looking for a topic for today's blog, and that's a good one.

Did I give my "everything" today?

Did I whole-heartedly go after this day?

The answer is NO.

I'm usually a go-getter kind of person. At least until lately. Actually, that's probably not true. There's been an ever-increasing level of apathy in my attitude for some time now. I can't place my finger on when it started, but I guess that really isn't the important part anyway.

There was a time when I didn't need a lot of external motivation or urging to give my best. I liked the way that doing something well made me feel, and I also liked the challenge of working on something until I got better at it. This drive and some healthy competition was all I really needed. Oh, and the fear of getting in trouble for doing something wrong. Nothing motivates me more than the possibility of getting in trouble :)

My love of sports stemmed, at least in part, from this part of my personality. Sports are always a challenge, and you can always improve... plus, there's the added bonus of competition. My competitive nature isn't the kind that always needs to defeat the other team, and it isn't particularly driven by aggression. I just felt that if I was going to do something, I shouldn't waste my time doing it at anything less than my full efforts.

Not so these days. I float through my days on a "make it through" philosophy. I'm in a hurry to just get things done so I can move on to the next thing, or worse, I simply put the things off in the hopes that I won't ultimately need to do them.

Today at work, I knew going into the day that it would be a short work day and that I would be going home after lunch. I also knew there was only one item that I had to complete in that time, and that item would take less than an hour. However, instead of completing that item and moving on to other items with later due dates, I goofed off. I found many distractions to rationalize it.

I know in my head that completing those other items (or at least starting them) would 1) make for a much easier time later on, 2) result in a better work product, and 3) drastically reduce my stress levels because I won't have to worry about them anymore. What happened to the internal drive to do things well? Has it been replaced by a lesser drive to just get things done when I HAVE to, or worse, no drive at all? I wish I could say the behavior has been perpetuated by an environment where the workload in unreasonable and therefore it is impossible to get everything done to the level of my satisfaction. If that were true, how did I manage to do exactly that for the first three years I worked there?

The same applies to how I deal with my kids in certain situations. I'll put off putting them in the bathtub or I'll decide it's "time" for them to learn to bathe themselves (they can, but are easily distracted and "forget" to wash) until it's way past bedtime, and then I rush them around getting them dry and in jammies. In the rush, of course, there's no time for bedtime stories or talking. I'm ashamed to say that more often than not I make Hannah read to them anyway. I rationalize THAT by telling myself it's good for her... which it is, but not in the way it should be. If I were giving my "everything," I'd lay down with all of them while she was reading to them, and then we'd all talk about the book together. Instead, I substitute Hannah for me because it gets the job done. In no deep corner or far reaches of my imagination do I believe this is parenting done well. I feel guilty, and I should.

The greater question is, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO ABOUT IT? It's the easiest question in the world to ask... and the hardest one to answer. How do I make myself take the time to do the job well in a day that is a total whirlwind from the second the alarm goes off until I pass out in bed with the kids? I can't answer that yet. I need to work on making sure I realize all the times I don't give everything I have, because I fear it's more often than I think. And maybe I should hire someone scary to supervise so there's the threat of being in trouble. Apply in your comment and be sure to use your best authoritative tone :)

I'd love to hear if any of you have had similar issues, and whether or not you've found something that works to get you back on track. I'm at a loss on this one.

Daily Account of Thankfulness

As a result of my realization that I am just going through the motions, I've decided to post a daily account of 3 things I'm thankful/appreciative of. In the interest of time, I'll post weekly with the items by day for that week.

I set ground rules: I cannot use an item more than once a week... so I can't cheat by using my husband and kids every post. The items do not have to be monumental or life-changing necessarily - there is joy to be found in small stuff too.
Hopefully this exercise will provoke me to stop and smell the proverbial roses...

I'll start easy... I'll start my account from last Friday (mostly because I cannot honestly remember what happened before then - thus the need for the exercise). By the way, these are in no particular order of importance...

Friday, October 31
I was thankful for...

1. The nice weather for Halloween. The last few Halloweens have had cold, rainy, windy weather.
2. The kind interaction of complete strangers in my office with my children.
3. A stress-free (and coincidentally work-free) day at the office.

Saturday, November 1

1. Sleeping in to the late hour of.... 8:00 a.m. Seriously, it was wonderful.
2. My dad keeping the kids for me so I could go run tryouts for our local junior volleyball club
3. A quiet, uneventful day that ended with a calm dinner with just the girls and I (Mike went to the Razorback game)

Sunday, November 2

1. Spending time with my girls decorating sweatshirts. It was horribly messy and they absolutely loved it.
2. Lounging in the bed with Mike for almost a full hour after we woke up. Normally he wakes up before me and doesn't like to stay in bed, so it was a nice treat.
3. Daylight savings time. An extra hour of sleep that magically appears... wonderful.

Monday, November 3

1. The sun being up on my drive to work.
2. Mike and I having lunch together.
3. The giant hugs and the awesome sound of "Mommy!" being yelled when I picked the little girls up from daycare.

Tuesday, November 4

1. A full, productive day at work with minimal interruptions. They're very rare these days.
2. The tree tunnel. It's the leg of my drive to work where the road is not only lined with trees but the branches stretch over the road, giving the illusion of being in a tunnel. It's absolutely stunning in the fall.
3. An extremely tiring but enjoyable evening of semi-competitive volleyball with good friends...

Wednesday, November 5

1. Wednesdays being my short work days and the day that Hannah and I get some alone time.
2. The Question game that we play at dinnertime. It started with the normal "How was your day" stuff and evolved into a way to entertain everyone at the table, including me. (I suggest the KidChat books... lots of fun questions for kids like "If you could make something else besides snow or rain fall out of the sky, what would it be?" Hannah wanted kittens, Ryley opted for mice, and Abigail wanted hot dogs. It's a fun game, even for the smaller girls.)
3. The freckles on Ryley's nose. She only has four or five, they're in a semi-straight line, and they're so cute.

Extra credit.... Three things to work on for next week:

1. Patience, patience, patience... It's in short supply and as a result I'm losing my cool far more often than I should.
2. Creating more opportunities for events to be thankful for - stop using "I'm too tired" as an excuse.
3. Calmly and rationally telling my husband why I'm irritated instead of letting it fester until I blow up.

Photo blog - A good week

One of my all-time favorite pictures... even if it is blurry.

Remember the day I didn't turn on the TV? We played "airplane" instead...

A little Halloween preview of Batgirl, Nancy Drew, and Hannah Montana.

And finally... I went outside one morning and found this illusion in the dew on the grass. Not a religious person generally, but this was just too cool. There didn't seem to be anything causing the reflection that I could see.

Volleyball

I play in a women's volleyball league every fall. We started back up tonight and it was U-G-L-Y - UGLY.

Some history - I started playing volleyball in 8th grade at the encouragement of my basketball coach (she was also the volleyball coach). I was moderately athletic, so why not (translation - I could sometimes walk without tripping). I had been a cheerleader during volleyball season in my seventh grade year (yikes!) and didn't care for it, so I was excited. Had zero clue how to play, about the rules - and there are many, nothing. But, I was tall.

I loved it. Never looked back - played year-round from then on in high school and in club/Junior Olympic (sounds really official, doesn't it?). Got a scholarship to Lyon, a little liberal arts college in Batesville, AR... very small, perfect for someone from a small town who is terrified of change... where I could still play competitively but not have it encompass my entire life.

I'll admit I have never worked at it or any other sport to my full potential. I didn't really "train" like most athletes, didn't diet, didn't work out on my own... but, just playing as often as I did I was in good shape. There was muscle definition. And no jigglies. I had abs, people - and the rear end was a little north of where it is now and definitely a much smaller acreage.

I got burned out. I had a temperamental coach (I swear she was bipolar) my last season, and I let her suck all the fun out of it for me. The operative phrase is "I let her" because it's true. I chose to let her get in my head. Anyway, the point is that I didn't play at all for a few years after I graduated.

I tell you, volleyballers are like a little club - we find other players wherever we go. A lady at work played and introduced me to a group of guys that played in our work fitness center during lunch. I was excited to get back in....until the next day when I couldn't lift my arm or cough without crying, anyway! Of course, that group introduced me to the women's league players, who introduced me to a co-ed league and also to the local club team that I helped coach last year. I was back! I played myself back into shape, played at least twice a week, sometimes twice a day!

Then... life happened. I had babies. That's a good 9-12 month sabbatical. I worked crazy hours and playing meant staying at work even later. I got back to playing at lunch - fought off the soreness, even started jogging on the off days to get in better shape - regained a small portion of my vertical jump. Work again - didn't make it to play for another 6 months off and on.

So... tonight I played for the first time since two months ago, which was the first time I'd played in more like 6 months... No abs - no vertical - no muscle tone - LOTS of jigglies - no comment on the rear end. I'm already stiff (just finished playing an hour ago!), and I'm positive I'll be sore tomorrow. The sad part is that the other team wasn't very good and I'm not sure I broke a sweat...


Oh, and update on yesterday's blog. I did not turn on the TV. The girls and I played with the new kittens, I cooked dinner, and the only time I said 'No' was when Abby asked if she could have dessert in her bed. I also purchased some books with conversation-starting questions geared towards kids for dinnertime. So far, we're doing okay.

Just going through the motions

Yep, it's a two-fer blog day.

I've been slowly coming to realization that I have just been going through the motions of my life. I get up, get the kids up, ship them off to school or Mom's, head to work, work, go to lunch, work, get kids, go home, and go to bed. I get no real joy out of any of it. It's as if my life has been calendared by someone else, and I'm just going from appointment to appointment.

Do not mis-interpret that to mean that I don't love my kids or my husband. I absolutely do. But I struggle with how I love them - how I show them that I love them. It occurred to me that I don't really show them at all like I wish I did. How many times have my kids asked to do something simple - like make cookies from pre-made dough - that I respond to with "Later"? Does "Later" ever come? Not usually. And, how many times have I yelled at them for interrupting a TV program? A stupid TV program that I DVR'd anyway, and can watch anytime?

And my poor husband... when was the last time we made time just for us? Oh, I don't know... around 8-9 years ago? (Well, maybe 4 years ago - we did have Abby!! ;) ) Even sadder - when was the last day that passed that I didn't yell at him for something I thought he should have done? The saddest - the last time we kissed (I mean really kissed... TMI, I know...)? Talked about our future - in singular form - rather than our futures - plural form?

The real clincher isn't even these things, even though I know they are terrible things. It's that every day I think about how terrible these things are and ways I can change them... and every day I go right back to doing them.

Apparently I have the temper, patience, and resolve of a two-year-old.

I rant and rave about the "fairness" of things to Mike - who does laundry more, who cleans more, who bathes the kids more, dinner, and so on... where in our vows did it say "Thou shalt take turns doing the chores"? Is this Kindergarten? And... would I like how he did those things anyway? I not only want him to do these things, I want him to do them how and when I say to do them. (For the record, we had the "obey" part removed from our vows...) I'm sure his view is that I'll re-do whatever he does (or point out the flaws in his end product) anyway, so what's the point.

Ew. Putting down all of this on paper is harsh. I've not only been going through the motions, I've been forcing everyone around me to go through my motions - my way- with me! Laundry must be folded this way. The kids must be in the bathtub at 8:30 (never happens). You must put this outfit on the girls - absolutely NOT that one. No dogs in the house. Why aren't the dogs in the house? Put the dogs out! Let them in!

If you read the previous blog, you may wonder how this can exhaust me if I'm just doing the same things everyday anyway. It's a valid question, and I asked myself the same thing. I firmly believe that it's because I have a little internal war going on every day that this behavior continues, and I either feel helpless to change it or am angry with myself for being too weak to overcome it. It's a fruitless struggle, and I know it, yet I am reluctant to give it up.

So... I need some homework. Tonight forward I'm going to shake things up - I'm going to say "YES" to the cookies. I'm going to IGNORE the haphazardly-folded towels and say "Thank you" for folding them in the first place. I'm not turning on the TV until the girls are in bed. I'm getting off this computer RIGHT NOW and going to play with the girls. I hope to report back with good things, and I will post updates. Any ideas to help would be greatly appreciated, as well as just candid feedback about your own experiences, if you have any.

Please address any nominations for "Mother of the Year" and "Spouse of the Year" to the North Pole - I'm sure Santa needs a good laugh.

Marathon Sleeping

I've found a new pasttime - marathon sleeping. Okay, okay, it's not new - I perfected it a long time ago - but I had gotten to where I resisted the urge. Lately it has been impossible.

For example, yesterday I was in our chaise and literally passed out. Cold. No alcoholic beverages were involved. At 12:30 p.m. It would be prudent to mention that I didn't get out of the bed until 9:30a.m. I stayed in my semi-lounging, head-conked-over, probably drooly position for almost two hours. Then, I woke up long enough to move into our guest bedroom, where I slept until 5:30p.m. Honestly, I could have slept for the remainder of the evening with zero trouble - I only got up because I had promised the girls we would go to our little lake and feed the ducks.

Now, my mother will tell you I've always been a sleeper. I was that kid that literally fell asleep in her dinner. In the playroom floor. In the car. At church. In the bathroom cabinets. Wherever.

However, lately I am just exhaused beyond all reason. It's very curious, this exhaustion. I have experienced many levels of exhaustion - the kind that comes after an all-day volleyball tournament where you have played 15-20 games (4-5 matches), the kind that comes with babies and frequent but broken sleep, and the mental kind that results from a non-stop day of complicated work issues. The kind I'm experiencing now is different than all of these.

In each of the other types, I could "sleep it off." This kind doesn't seem to respond to sleep. I refuse to take any kind of sleep aid because it makes me groggy and it doesn't seem to make a difference, and anyway clearly the problem is not that I can't sleep - it's that the sleep isn't restful.

I'm guessing it is a side effect of all the things that I've been struggling with lately - work, home, kids, Mike. I'll get to each of these in a separate blog eventually - I don't think I'm ready yet. I'd swear that I'm having a one-third-life crisis at 29. I'm going to post another blog later this evening on one of the major contributors to my exhaustion - I think I'm just "going through the motions" of life.

No deep thoughts today

Sorry... we had a full day and I'm pooped. We promised our youngest daughter Abigail a while ago that if she would stop wetting her pants AND start sleeping in her own bed, that we would get her a kitten. She's succeeded at both of those for the most part - still gets in our bed around 4 or 5 a.m. but that's a marked improvement. And, because we didn't want our middle daughter Ryley to feel left out, we got her a kitten too. (Our oldest would rather have a goldfish. Fine by me.) So... in the excitement of three happy little campers and two tiny kittens, I had a blissfully deep-thought free day.
I leave you with this... Abby had not put her kitten down for longer than five seconds for several hours... she was sitting on our chaise, all was well, until I hear this... "My kitten smells bad!!!" and then "EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!!!" Yep, you guessed it... kitten poop. I think it was funnier still as Abby made little gagging noises as she went to change out of the now-poopy pants she had on.
She made the same noises last weekend while we were carving pumpkins. Apparently she's not a fan of pumpkin guts or kitten poop.

What do I want to be when I grow up??

Don't let the title fool you. I have no intention of ever "growing up." Grown-ups suck!

Moving on... I'm looking for a new career. Seriously. Well, I'm serious about looking anyway...not so much seriously doing anything about it :)

How did I get here? I did the typical student thing... started out as a pre-med major and made it all the way until my second semester of college before I gave it up. Funny story behind that... the very first core class for a pre-med major is freshman Chemistry. Oooohhhhh... that sounded exciting. Of course, my only experience with chemistry thus far was being in a high school classroom with a lab that nobody was allowed to use (apparently there were some attempts to cook meth, as well as a few beaker-bongs that turned up in lockers - not mine, really!). My school wasn't that bad, really, I never felt unsafe or anything, but as you see there were some, um, limitations to our education??? Anyway... I show up to class, suffer through memorization of the periodic chart, and manage to keep a crappy but strangely acceptable "C" level. Then came the lab of doom. The college lab was in the basement (seriously) of a very old stinky science building. There were sliding glass doors (walk-out basement, I guess) that allowed a minimal amount of light in, but were either painted or glued shut and coated with what I hope was condensation deposits. It was a sad place. I did okay there for a few weeks... until the Great Copper Experiment of '98. Said experiment was a four-part experiment that took approximately four hours to complete. The product of each part was used for the next part, so if you screwed up you had to start all over (foreshadowing!!!). Anyway, I start the experiment and make it all the way to step four, where you had to cook the final product in a small porcelain bowl with the lid precariously perched to allow venting. The wobbly little sucker fell right off in the floor and of course, broke. Sigh. I start over. Again I make it to step four. Crash. Sigh. Apparently I had more patience in those days, because it took me around six times to finally make it. Yep - six times at four hours each = 24 hours.... No, I didn't do it all at one time, it took a few days. Needless to say, the fumes and the classy lab glasses finally got to me. I dropped the lab, squeaked out of the class with a C, and changed my major to Economics.

I know, right? What the @#$! was I thinking? I didn't even LIKE economics really, but the college didn't offer an accounting degree then, you had to major in economics and "concentrate" in accounting. I always thought "concentrate" was a funny term... like you really needed to "concentrate" to make it in that field. Again, moving on... I loved my accounting teachers and was mildly amused by the econ professors (one caveman and one heavily-accented Baghdadian). We were all dorks but numbers are like a puzzle to me. The college finally added an accounting major, but by then I had so many Econ credits that I ended up with a double major in Boring and Boring-er. Now what?

A friend of mine told me about the Master's program for accounting that she was looking into - sounded good to me. More school and putting off real work was okay with me! It was only a year anyway and it satisfied the CPA requirements, so why not? Breezed right on through... Oh crap, really, now what???

Long story short - I interviewed with several public accounting firms - I didn't want to travel around auditing so they politely said "no thank you" to my offer to work for them. A classmate suggested I try my current company. I sent a resume, they called, I interviewed, they called back, I peed in a cup, and here I am.

And here I've been for seven years now. Yikes. It's been a long, strange trip. I've met some of the best people on earth, and very possibly some of the worst; I learned that my work ethic is actually better than most and I really can work for 16 hours a day for several months straight-while 8 months pregnant; I learned more than any human should want or need to know about the IRS, tax rules, and corporations... I was good at my job. Really good. I'm still good at it. I have a quasi-photographic memory and apparently that's very handy in a field riddled with rules. Apparently I love rules, especially when they aren't directed at me personally. I changed positions within my department twice - same line of work, different areas - and liked them all. I learned that I can put up with a lot of crap from a lot of different directions as long as I like my work.
Then I moved to my current job. I handle state income tax audits (you may be excused to vomit, I'll wait) of the company. The job requires negotiation skills, conflict management, and coordination with many areas of the company. It's also an area with a lot of uncertainty and lots of guesswork and judgment.

Some more information about me: 1) I hate conflict. I "adjust," remember?? 2) My idea of negotiation is to cheerfully agree with whatever the other party wants. 3) I hate to ask people I don't know for information and/or help. 4) I have a strong aversion to change, uncertainty makes my head hurt, I prefer not to guess, and I have zero knowledge for making any reasonable judgment call in this field. Perfect. Should be a picnic.

I've actually made it for three years in this job. I've learned to remove personal issues from my work, and therefore I can do most of these things without my stomach turning over now. My boss is awesome. The hours are "normal" and very flexible, so I can come and go as long as I get my work done.

I HATE the work. Even though I'll grudgingly admit I've done quite a bit of growing up in this position (hmm, maybe that's the problem since grown-ups suck!), I get no personal satisfaction out of my accomplishments. I need to move on, but being the change-averse, headachy, predictable idiot that I am, I'm too scared to really start walking down that path just yet.

Besides, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. My girls alternate between "dolphin trainer" and artist. Sounds good to me.

Welcome!

Welcome to my new blog, "Deep Thoughts by Courtney." Now, if you know me at all (and believe me you will shortly!!) you know that while that is intended to be humorous and is a shamelessly stolen concept from SNL. All jokes aside, it has been extremely therapeutic for me to read others' blogs... like a little window into another person's soul. My hope is that taking the HUGE step to start my own will prove to be even more therapeutic.

For starters... I'm not a big talker. Whoa, before you start yelling "LIAR!!" at me, understand that I love to "chat," but very rarely do I hold in-depth conversations with anyone. It isn't because I don't care or that I have no "deep thoughts." I'm just terrified to share them!

I don't have the best memories from school (or other places of interaction). I was a "weird" kid... talked using big words, wore the clothes my mom bought me (love you mom, but some of those outfits!!!), always had my nose in books, etc.... The few times early on that I tried to "fit in" were, well, disastrous...at least in my mind. There is a point to this story, I swear.

My coping mechanism was to keep all the "weirdness" in. Think it, but don't say it. I'd let people say anything to me or about me without any reaction... but if possible, I immediately tried to change whatever it is they were talking about. As I got older, I learned to selectively and intermittently share my weirdness - you've probably had a glimpse. I found my first love - volleyball - and I was pretty good at it. Through it, I learned to function as part of a team - in both good ways and bad ways. I had no trouble "adjusting" myself to get along with (almost) anybody... but I lost a great deal of my true self in the process.

To wrap it up, I've been in a low place lately. I'm seeing the effects of all the "adjustments" I made to me catch up with me... and I don't like it. I don't like the ME that I am right now. So..... I begin my journey to find me.

You can run away screaming now... I won't be offended :)