A Piece of My Mind


Don't worry. I'm not going to rant about the things that upset me. MOST people would assume that reading the title of this post. Perrin, however, has not yet grasped this concept. He takes it literally. Allow me to explain in greater detail.

Abby and Perrin had gotten into a giant bag of Skittles yesterday. Since Perrin was puking, I confiscated the bag and hid it in the couch cushions. This morning, Perrin found it again. I was feeling generous, so I allowed him to have ONE handful to share with Abby. He trots off up the stairs and is back less than a minute later. I know what's coming and so does he. My eyes are begging him not to start this battle, but it's as if he can't go a day without one.

Perrin reaches for the bag and I say, "No. I said ONE".

I take the bag and hide it behind me as he starts to wail. Getting no sympathy from me, he seeks out Abby upstairs. This is what I hear.

Perrin: "Mommy hid the Skittles again!" (Of course he's crying and shouting all this.)

Abby: "Behind the pillow again?"

Perrin: "Uh-huh." *sniffling*

Abby: "Is she sitting in front of the pillow?"

Perrin: "YES!"

Abby: "Oh. *pause* Well go give her a piece of your mind!"

At this, I yell, "Abigael!" and she gets quieter than I thought possible. (They've yet to figure out that my over-hearing every word they say is not a super power.) I hear Perrin stomp down the stairs. He stands in front of me with his lip still sticking out in that oh-so-adorable way and says to me, "I'm gonna give you a piece a my MIND!"

I raise my eyebrows and wait. He then proceeds to make a throwing motion with his right arm in my general direction. I'm guessing it must make perfect sense to a three year-old. It IS kind of a dumb phrase. I'm doing quite well at keeping my cool until he says, "THERE! I gave you a piece a my mind! It's just what you needed!" He ends this display by stomping back upstairs to tell Abby that the deed is done, leaving me alone to giggle helplessly.

I know, I know. I shouldn't let him talk to me that way, but seriously. It was so funny I couldn't bring myself to open my mouth until he left for fear of him being encouraged by my laughter. Besides, for once he was using his words to express anger instead of his hands or feet. That's progress, right?

So, that was my happy thought for the day. Just thought I'd better write it down. You know, for posterity.

New Things


Isn't it strange how little things can change so much? I'm not a poster child for self-esteem, but after getting my hair done today, I feel awesome. I actually feel *gasp* PRETTY. No WAY! Yes, it CAN happen. I don't actually need validation from someone else to get there, either. I'm not model material or anything, but I'll settle for average pretty! I mean, I'm a mom of two and, in spite of all my kids do to age me at an increased rate, I look pretty good. Wow. It's weird having self-esteem! I kind of hope it lasts!

So, I got "new" hair today. Yay for me. Perrin got something new today, as well, it would seem. He was following me around the house talking to "Jason". It took me a few minutes before I really started to listen. I turned around and asked him who "Jason" was and if he was his imaginary friend. He looks up at me, all seriousness, and says, "No. He's not IMAGINARY. He's INVISIBLE."

Well, duh. How could I have made such a ridiculous mistake? I must be out of practice in the un-see-able friend department. To be fair, it HAS been awhile since I've had one. (To those of you who would argue this, I say...Well, I say nothing, but I stick my tongue out at you. ) Why "Jason"? Is there some kid in his Sunday school class named Jason? I mean, I have friends named Jason, but nobody my kids have ever met or heard of. Maybe some character on television? Weird. Abby's "friends" are Larry and his girlfriend Daphne. Between Veggie Tales and Scooby-Doo, those names make sense. But, Jason? I have to admit I expected a touch more creativity from my child. *sigh* Oh, well! I haven't seen ( HAHAHA ) Larry or Daphne for awhile so I doubt Jason will stay for long.

We also have new grass in our backyard! This, my friends, is MONUMENTAL! When we bought the house, there was this giant patch of mulch in the backyard up against the house. I think there was a pool there somewhere at one point. We've hated it. Heath decided to get it taken care of this week. For $300, we had about 600 square feet of sod INSTALLED and the mulch hauled away. YES!!!! I no longer have to wear shoes outside at ALL! Now we just have to keep it watered for a week or so. If it dies, I may set fire to it in a fit of rage. Since it's right next to the house, let's all hope this doesn't happen. I don't think our homeowners' would cover that. In fact, I'm quite certain they frown upon that sort of thing.

It's been a good weekend thus far. Tomorrow night, we're going to go see a friend of mine play guitar downtown. I'm really looking forward to it. The kids are going to spend a couple of nights at my mom's so I may actually get some sleep if I shut the cats out at night. Here's to hoping the rest of the weekend is as good, if not better!

Greetings from Somalia!


(Is Somalia still one of those countries where people are starving?) I write to you tonight from the land of No-food. Actually we HAVE food here, we just taunt you with it then lock it away and laugh while you starve. At least, this is what anyone who talks to my kids would think. To hear them tell it, we NEVER feed them. Never mind the fact that entire bags of grapes have disappeared mysteriously mere hours after being brought home from the store. Or all but one slice of a large pizza. I've never seen two small people eat so much!

I'm not exaggerating when I say I hear "I'm still hungry" at least 347 times a day. Each one of them eats more than I do everyday. How is that possible? I mean, I know they're growing at a faster rate, but really! I'm starting to think they have worms or something. Is it really normal for kids to eat this much?

Naturally, I feed them before I get myself food. However, as any parent knows, the food on YOUR plate (despite being EXACTLY the same as the food on their plates) always tastes better than what you gave THEM. They just KNOW it, and they WANT it. NEED it. This is where I become inconsistent in my parenting. Sometimes, if I'm feeling generous or just too tired to care, I give in and let them have a bite of my food. Other times, I growl at them until they back away. Figuratively speaking, of course. They can sense when I'm weak. They come at me together or, if they're feeling extra clever, one will convince me that they need something in the other room so as to distract me while the one left behind snatches provisions for both of them. They think they're sneaky, but they've yet to figure out that crumbs/smears around the mouth are a dead giveaway.

I've toyed with the idea of putting out a bunch of healthy food someday and just seeing how much they can actually eat before they stop saying "I'm still hungry" like a broken record. You know those professional eaters? Yeah. My kids would put them to shame. I KNOW they didn't get this from me. If they were Hansel and Gretel, the witch would have been eaten along with her house before she had time to realize what was happening.

What worries me is, if they're this bad NOW, how on EARTH am I going to afford to feed them as teenagers?

Still Here...


Wow. Has it really been almost a month since my last post? My how time flies when you're feeling down. Yeah, I'm still kind of stuck in the dark place. It's as if I'd found something I'd been searching for my whole life. I got to enjoying it for a short time and then it was gone. Now that I know what I was missing, I will never be complete without it. And yet, it is out of my reach. It looks like I'm going to have to learn to live without it, at this point. I've been shut out in spite of my fervor. My tears are wasted.

Too deep, isn't it? *sigh*

I wish I had something exciting to write about. I mean, it's not like I'm a boring person or anything. I'm intelligent and I have interesting interests. I'm pretty well-read. I love music. I'm fairly decent at art. I like movies. I play video games. Maybe I shouldn't admit that last one...

What I'm saying is, why can't I do something interesting once in awhile? Not interesting enough to become fodder for the tabloids, but interesting enough to write about. Is it because I don't know how to make it happen? Is it because I live in Iowa? Believe me, I've had my suspicions about this place, but it's grown on me. Yes, there's not that much to do here and the scenery is repetitive, but there are good people here. Besides, I actually love the smell of freshly turned earth and just-baled alfalfa. And the stars you can see from the country are simply breathtaking.

I'm still missing that something, but I'm not giving up. We farm girls tend to have a stubborn streak. I believe that if you keep hope alive that anything is possible, even if it takes longer than you'd like it to. Sometimes, sacrifices must be made. Farm life definitely teaches you that! Life isn't always fair, but you have to put your head down and keep pulling just the same. The best things take time. They don't happen overnight, no matter how much we may want them to. Sometimes, things only come into our lives for a short time. They share their beauty and they disappear all too soon. It's difficult to remain tender-hearted in the face of reality. It makes us vulnerable to being hurt. Even by the ones we love most.

Like I said, I'm not letting go of what I know is out there. Life is trying it's hardest to break me, but I won't give in. No matter what. Some things are worth the effort. You just have to find them.

Fashionista In-Training

I'll bet you were thinking Abby, right? A likely conclusion, but you would be wrong, my friend. Oh, yes, my dear daughter loves to dress up now and then. Especially in her ballet clothes. I, however, am referring to my dear SON, Perrin.

Perrin likes to dress up. No particular style or anything, just whatever he finds lying around. He likes to wear pants. On his head. He likes to wear grown-up shoes. Mine are his favorites. He likes to wear gloves. On his feet. He likes to wear underwear. Doesn't matter whom they belong to. Again, on his head. The kid wore his Halloween costume for weeks.

Having said this, I wasn't entirely surprised when he crawled up beside me on the couch the other night, stuck his leg in my face, and said, "Feel my skin!". What made me laugh until I almost cried was realizing what he had on his leg. A knee-high nylon stocking. This,of course, belonged to me and so was actually more of a thigh-high stocking on him.

Oh.

My.

Goodness.

Naturally, Heath didn't find it amusing to see his son in pantyhose, but I thought it was funny. The little weirdo even wanted to SLEEP in it! Too much.

Poor Heath worries about Perrin's preferences. His love of sparkly things. His demanding to have his toenails painted when I paint mine and Abby's. The fact that his favorite color is purple. I had younger brothers though. I know that boys can dress up in little party dresses and high heels and still grow up to be 100% man. Perrin is my sensitive child, but I have great faith in him. In both of my children. No matter what they turn out to be like, I love them. Now and always.

Learning to Breathe


I know my last few posts have been a bit on the dramatic side. To be honest, it was my intention to delete them, but having thought about it for awhile, I've changed my mind. It's not pretty, but it part of who I am. As alone as I feel during those times, I KNOW that there are other people out there who struggle with the same thing. Other moms, even. If my baring my dark and twisty side to the world makes even ONE other person feel better or realize they're not actually as alone as they feel, then it's worth it. At least to me. We have to keep fighting our way back. Even without family or friends, there is a kinship among those of us who have been through the darkness without a light. We don't even need to speak. Our scars bear witness to the truth. We ARE family. We are the lost who have found one another when everyone else was afraid to venture in too deeply. We must always remember that we have each other. Even if we have never met.

I've started that climb back to the surface of humanity. My fingers are raw and bleeding from the digging and crawling, but I will not stop. I am not alone. This fire that has begun to kindle in my soul will give me strength. Holding me close and warming me from the inside. Its light will grow until it radiates from my body and I no longer need to fear the darkness. I am learning to breathe again, and breathe deeply. To breathe peace. To breathe love. To breathe light.

I've still got a bit of a climb ahead of me. I may never be what society declares "normal", but that actually appeals to me. Who wants to be "normal" anyway? I'm in a better place and that's a start. Not alone. Bound by scars. Learning to breathe again. Together.

More Disappointments


I know I should have seen this coming. It happens every time I try to get out and make friends. I start to come out of hiding and relax and I get blindsided. Like I'm standing at the edge of a precipice pretending I can fly and someone shoves me off. Obviously, I can't actually fly and my fear of heights keeps me away from such places, but I'm speaking metaphorically. I have real trust issues and I should have learned by now that people will never change. No matter how old you get or where you go, there will always be someone who is out to get you for some reason or another. Why do I keep letting my guard down? Why do I ever leave my house? At least here, I'm prepared. Yeah, I know. I'm paranoid and all, but you would be too if you were me. Count your blessings that you're not.

Now don't get me wrong. I know my life could be worse. I'm pretty damn lucky to have all that I have. That's one thing that makes me hate myself for feeling this way. It's pathetic to feel sorry for myself. If I could only turn throwing pity parties into a business, I'd be rich.

Why are you going off your meds, you ask? Why not? I mean, studies show they don't really do much more than placebo pills and my own "research" confirms that. I'm just so tired. Meds or no meds, I'm still a failure at anything I try to accomplish. I can count on one hand the number of times anyone has been proud of me. Let me assure you, I would need many, MANY more hands to count the times they've been disappointed in me.

I thought getting out and doing this movie-thing would be good for me. Right. Where do I get this naivete from? I made friends and started to really connect with people and then it all went horribly wrong somehow. I still don't know how. I don't even know if I have a job anymore because I feel like I'm being lied to about the whole thing. Everyone is avoiding me and, in spite of what I was told, I seem to be the only one who was sent home at all. I didn't buy the whole "you need rest for next week" line anyway. Why not just save me all the wondering and tell me the truth? That I'm useless and you're sorry I ever showed up? I know there are things just burning to be said by more than one person. I TRIED. I'm sorry I made friends and had a good time. I really wanted this to work. I thought I'd finally found a place where I fit in, but I see now that I'm not meant to fit in anywhere. The rest of the world will see to that. It always has.

Am I giving up? I don't know. I'm tired. So tired. It hurts all the time. I feel too heavy to keep carrying everything around but I don't know how to let go of it. I feel alone and defeated. This is the dark and twisty side that nobody likes, not even me. We're bound together though. Perhaps I would die without this other me. I shall surely die one day anyhow. Probably far, far away from today. Maybe I'll have learned to live in harmony with my dark half by then and have some semblence of happiness. Or maybe I'll just be too senile to remember I'm depressed in the first place. What's that? A ray of hope? I'm allowed to have a sense of humor about all this, you know. I mean, if we can't laugh at ourselves, who CAN we laugh at?

What Comes After



I should probably just turn off my laptop and try to sleep, but I just feel like a giant ball of tangled rainbow yarn and I doubt I could sleep without writing something, ANYTHING, to pull a few threads loose so tomorrow will seem simpler. I know it's just stress and serious lack of sleep, but my emotions have been all over the map today and I am WORN OUT. I hate feeling this way because it throws me off balance. I am perfectly capable of controlling my emotions MOST of the time. It's just difficult when all of my energy is focused on just keeping my body awake though.

I was so nervous about working and being away from the kids and Heath so much. I still don't like that part, but the work isn't bad and the people I work with are, for the most part, a stellar bunch of people. I've had some really deep conversations and an unending supply of opportunities to sharpen my wit. It's sort of like an emotional high. Or maybe that's just the feeling of being sleep-deprived. Whatever it is, it's been nice to remember what just being me is like. I actually DO have a personality outside of wife and mother, but I tend to forget that. It's been interesting to get to know so many new people and have them actually seem to like me. Granted, they don't know me very well, but if I keep it that way maybe I can actually have friends.

I'm all irritable and smoldering at the moment. It's like no matter what I do I can't get anything right. There's never enough time. There's never enough money. I want to just curl up into a ball and cry for a day or five. Maybe I'm just wearing myself out by pretending to be some normal, happy person all weekend when I probably have no real hope of ever being either one of those. I'll bet you're thinking I should stay on those meds now, aren't you? Like I said. I'm tired and I just need to write some of it out. I try so hard not to think about the things that upset me. Like how much I miss my kids all weekend. How I feel like I'm a horrible mother for spending so much time away from them. How I hardly feel like a mom at ALL when I come home and it makes me feel lost. How I'm scared about being out in the "real" world again because I have all together too much experience with how cruel people can be for no apparent reason. I try my best to be nice to everyone. To be thoughtful and kind, but I'm terrified that I'm still going to piss someone off no matter what I do and I'm going to get hurt again. People, on average, just don't seem to like me. I might as well have "Kick Me" tattooed on my head.

This is the storm. The mad, frantic winds of the tornado that send the debris of my life spiraling into oblivion. My tears are merely the rain that lashes against my face as I stand defiantly against the wind and watch the lightning slash the skies in it's constant battle to upstage the thunder that rolls in like a freight train. I am small. I am weak. I've been thrown before, but it hasn't destroyed me yet and I stand, daring the storm to crush me in its mighty throes. I know pain. Though I still fear it, I know there is also a measure of comfort in the familiar. It will scar me. It will not leave me unchanged in its fury, but it will not take me yet. My weakness may prove to be my salvation should I learn to bend. Though perhaps I am strong enough to stand against it all. I KNOW there is something more to my life that remains just out of reach. Is it possible this storm will be the one that brings it within reach?

So what comes after? After the storm is spent and all is still? Will I be left standing in the same place I started or will I be miles away with a completely different view? I wish I could see that far ahead, but if I had the insight to see the outcome would I feel the desire to change it and risk losing the lessons it might teach? Ugh. I don't know. I DO know that I'm tired and a mess right now. Must. Suppress. Dark. Twisty. Side.

I'll feel better tomorrow, I'm sure. Sleep is a miracle worker.

Mommy's Ark


I've always loved animals. You might even say I've always had a way with them. When I was just learning to walk, we owned a Siamese cat named Sam. Sam didn't really like anybody but me. I could grab him around the belly and toddle around the house with him, fall on top of him, even put Mr. Potato Head's little green glasses on him, and he still loved me. I've had pets in my life almost constantly and they've all been like family. They have thoughts, feelings, and moods just like we do. Call me crazy, but you won't change my mind.

Lately, it seems like animals needing help show up wherever I go. Actually, I don't even have to leave the house. They just come to me. There was a hint of something supernatural in the sparrow that hit the front window last summer. She seemed so content to just rest in my hand long after she was ready to fly off. That stuck with me. I always feed the animals in our yard and bury any that I find that have died. I feel it's my duty to do what I can for them.

Heath says my heart is a little too big sometimes. I suppose he's right, but I can't imagine being any other way. Since the stray we took in (I still haven't found his name), there have been two more that have come to our house. One has been back twice for food but won't let us touch it yet. Hey, I get that my kids are intimidating. The other belonged to someone several blocks away.

Then, there was the cat that found me on the set of the movie I was working on (nothing glamorous, people) and stuck to me like glue. She came back to meet me every morning we were there. Thankfully, one of the women on-set took her home on Sunday. Heath would NOT have been happy if I brought home another cat!

Today, it was a duck. I swear, I don't go looking for these things. They just happen. I was on my way to get my hair cut and passed a female mallard standing in a puddle near the end of somebody's driveway. That's not uncommon around here. We have several that make their homes in the stream in our backyard. What was uncommon, is the fact that she didn't flinch when I drove by. I was going to keep going, but something inside me said I should stop and go back. So, I did. She was hurt, but I had no idea how badly until I actually caught her. She didn't make it easy, but she couldn't fly either and I couldn't just leave her when I saw she was bleeding. Her chest/belly were torn open, but since she was still moving around I figured the important stuff was still working.

Once I had her wrapped up in Abby's pink satin princess cape (I have weird things in my car) I took her the few blocks to our vet. He wasn't in yet so the lady at the desk sent me to the animal and avian clinic down the street. Makes sense, right? Well, they wouldn't help either since she was a wild animal. WHAT?! She's BLEEDING and OBVIOUSLY needs help! It's not like she has rabies! So they sent me half an hour away to the nearest state university since they have a wildlife rescue program. Had to stop and get gas before I could make THAT drive. Did I mention I was doing all of this with an injured duck in one arm?

I finally get there and say goodbye to her hoping that since she's still awake and trying to move around that nothing vital was damaged and she would be fine. They called me a couple of hours later to tell me she had a lot of muscle damage and they'd thought it best to put her down. If I'd only known that I would have stayed with her! She seemed to trust that I was trying to help her once I had her all bundled up and she realized I wasn't trying to hurt her. I shouldn't have left her alone.

Does this mean my heart is too big? Should I care a little less about these smaller creatures? I just can't accept that. I think there's a reason they find me. I'm not a better person than anyone else. I don't think loving these animals makes me special. I just do what needs to be done and trust things will work out for the best. I'm starting to wonder if there's some reason behind all of these. Is there something I'm missing? Something more I need to do? Am I really just finally starting to lose it? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised to see a lion with a thorn in his paw sitting on my front step some morning. I wonder what's next?

I am the Duck


It's taken me quite some time, but I think I've finally realized that certain things never change. I used to think that the kids in my elementary classes were mean. Then I went to junior high. I thought the backstabbing was bad there until I got to high school. I believed high school was cruel until I met the rest of the world. Do people really have nothing better to do than make trouble for someone else? Why can't we all just get along? (Sorry. Couldn't help myself.)

I am the duck. They are the drops of water that roll off my back. Breathe.

Yes, I'm venting once again. It just bothers me that so many people have unkind natures and when I actually manage to find a kindred spirit here and there, someone always has to try and spoil it. Seriously, people. I'm not your average spirit so finding a kindred one is RARE. I have enough issues to manage without you trying to steal my sunshine. Speaking of which... is that thunder I hear? Great. One more reason for my dear husband to get out of mowing the jungle that is our lawn again. I shouldn't complain. I could do it myself if I wasn't scared of the lawnmower.

I think I'm going to call the new cat Moe. I just feel like I should pick SOMETHING besides "new cat" since he's been here for almost three weeks. He has definitely gotten over his shyness. Jeepers! He's ALWAYS on me! I mean, I'm sure he's grateful to have a home and all, but honestly. It's okay to give me a bit of personal space now and then. I promise I won't forget you love me if you leave me alone for five minutes. The same goes for you, my sweet, sweet children. When I lock the bathroom door, it isn't because I don't love you and it isn't an invitation to bang on it for the next twenty minutes while I try to take the one shower a week you seem grudgingly willing to give me. I just like a few minutes to myself once in awhile. I am not hiding a secret chocolate stash. That would be impossible since you can sniff out sugar from distances that would impress a bloodhound. The only substance I may lock myself away to consume on occasion is one you are not old enough to partake of anyway.

I don't know where I was going with this post. My mind is still recovering from the weekend of work. I spent too much energy on enthusiasm and exercising my wit. We don't get out much, you see. I need to do more blogging this week so I do less talking this weekend. I want to pretend I fit in a bit more believably. I'm glad this is a weekend job because I really need the time to be me in between the trying to be normal.

On the Road


I'm writing from a hotel in Burlington. I'm going to be working on the set of a film called "Splatter". All I know at this point is that it's about love, honor, and paintball. I am reserving judgement until I've spent at least ONE day on set. I had to leave the kids at home and I'm missing them already. I've never spent more than two nights away from them. Not to mention Sunday is Mothers' Day. I just hope they're still awake by the time I get home that day. We need this money and it's a good experience for me. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

Today is also my brother Will's birthday. He's fortunate enough to be on a Bahamas cruise. I can't help but be jealous since his honeymoon to Jamaica was less than nine months ago. Especially since I've yet to have one. No. I'm not bitter. Why do you ask?

I hope he and Betsy are having fun. I wish I could go somewhere new and exciting that required a passport and isn't Mexico. Don't want to die of the pig flu or anything.

I'm sitting here watching "Son In-law" with Pauly Shore. I haven't seen it in years. It's still funny, but now I can see why my parents thought is was annoying. Pauly is such a dork. His version of "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" is priceless.

I'm going to try to get some sleep before I have to get up at some evil hour of the morning. I hear there's a masseuse in the tent next to our crafts tent so maybe it won't be ALL bad...

Be Afraid. Be VERY Afraid!

New Cat seems to have found a home with us. Now that we've paid $250 to have him all taken care of by our vet it seems only logical to keep him. That, and he seems to have done some real sucking up to the one person he really needed to. Heath. We found out the poor guy (yes, the vet confirmed my suspicions on his gender) has a heart murmur. That could be part of the reason he's so emaciated. Now that he's in a stable home (or at least a permanent one), we'll have to watch his weight closely and make sure he starts gaining. Our other cats don't seem to have a problem with weight gain. Although, I KNOW they're none too happy about sharing their food with the usurper.

We still haven't decided on a name for him yet. I just can't seem to find one that really fits. It's like I know it already, but it's locked away in the back of my mind. I don't want to give him the wrong one. I wouldn't want to offend him. I'm pretty sure he's already a bit cross with me over the shaving I allowed the vet to do. At least, he is if the look on his face says anything.

You can almost hear the evil retribution he's plotting. Then again, maybe he's just miffed about the camera. I can't really blame him there. If someone re-styled me into an eighties-hairband-lead-singer-type look, I'd be rather contrary myself. It wasn't as if I had much choice. His fur was so badly matted he wasn't even trying to clean himself anymore. At least I've managed to resist buying a couple cans of that neon hairspray and tying a sparkly silk scarf around his neck. As soon as he weighs more than a bag of Cheetos, he'd smother me for sure!

Seriously though. He's settling in here in spite of the kids and Charlie and Lola. Lola is warming up a bit faster than Charlie. New Cat, bless his murmuring heart, just tries to ignore them and find a quiet spot to relax. I think, deep down, he's happy to have found a home with people who will take care of him. He certainly wandered into the right yard!

Earth Day, Yay!


We've had a rather busy week here at the Hyder house. Maybe not so much "busy" as just "active". We've been enjoying the warmer weather by spending time outside. Of course, I had to be sparing with my time in the direct sunlight as I am still peeling skin off from my last day in the sun. (I still think it's WRONG that you can be cold and get a sunburn at the same time.) Abby likes to help me with the peeling. I know it's gross, but I can't stop peeling it off and it DOES go faster with two people. Except she pinches. Gentleness has never really been her forte.

We went to the home improvement store on Earth Day (Wednesday for you eco-challenged types) and bought stuff to fence in our little patch of garden. (Part of me thinks it's cruel to taunt the rabbits with yummy food they can't have, but I am NOT putting all that work into a garden just to give them a lovingly tended salad bar.) I also picked up a few more seeds, a blackberry bush, and a rose bush. We came home and planted the rose bush and three of our ten baby trees from the Arbor Day Foundation. (Yay for free trees!) The kids and I even made Earth Day cookies. My own secret recipe. They were delicious. The kids had fun sharing them and telling people "Happy Earth Day". I love teaching them to take care of our planet. They're learning to have respect for the Earth and everything in/on it. Well, at least the plants and animals part. I'm still working on the people part, myself.
Today, we had some friends over. The kids had a ball playing/fighting with each other while Amber and I talked. I swear, it seems like our visits only last half an hour, but the clock says otherwise. There just are not enough hours in the day. Amber and I went to high school together. We were both in Show Choir and Chamber Singers. We reconnected through Facebook, which has become my new obsession. I can't remember who really got me started on this (Heidi, maybe?), but I'll bet Heath wouldn't thank them for it! I'm sure the sparkle will wear off of it soon and I'll settle down and spend less time on there, but I can't help myself right now. Too many games and I'm making friends all over the globe! The US, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, the UK. I can actually come out of my hermit hole and be social as long as I have a computer to hide behind. It probably sounds dumb, but I really think Facebook is doing more for my depression than the meds are.


Heath borrowed the tiller from my grandparents today so we could till the garden. Thing is, he actually had to work for once so he didn't get home until around seven. By that point, the clouds were rolling in the the rain was starting to sputter from their swollen bellies. We had to get it done before it rained, though, so he went straight out there in his work clothes and tilled it up. One of our neighbors (and his cat) was peering at us out his back window waiting to see if we'd get struck by the lightning that was growing ever more angry overhead. We made it safe and sound. Barely. The tiller ran out of gas three feet from being done and Heath had to refuel. Of course.

We also found a cat on Earth Day. He (at least I'm calling it "he" until the vet tells me otherwise) just wandered into our yard all fur and bones. He was all lovey and we gave him some food and water. He's black and white with long hair, but it's so matted I don't know how he can move without pulling his fur constantly. He's also front de-clawed so he shouldn't be out on his own. I'm a sucker so I brought him inside. Charlie and Lola are still livid about sharing their food, but they'd better get over it. This poor cat will be nothing but bones when his mats are removed. I've been trying to get some of them myself, but I don't want to stress him out too much. I just cut a few at a time until he tells me he's had enough by growling in protest. He growls at a lot, but that's all he does. He never actually makes a move beyond threatening. I made an appointment with our vet on Monday. Hopefully, they can help with the matted fur and make sure he's healthy other than being emaciated. He's going to be a beautiful cat once we love him up some.

I'd better get to bed. I need to get up bright and early in the morning to go give blood at the church. I hope they don't care if I fall asleep while they take it. Did I mention we're walking in the March of Dimes March for Babies this year? Well, more on that later. I've GOT to get some sleep!

100 Posts


Am I really only on my hundredth post? Seems like I should have gotten here long ago. I wish I could think of something truly memorable to share, or something that's at least mildly entertaining. Alas, such is the mundane life I lead. No base jumping or tightrope walking for me. I HAVE been venturing out of my social shell a bit more, though. I've actually started using Facebook to keep in touch with people. Granted, it's not exactly brave to sit at the computer, but it's a step, okay? I'm trying not to end up like Salinger.

I've been getting back into reading some of my favorite classic authors lately. I bought a new copy of George MacDonald's "Phantastes" and a collection of C.S. Lewis's. I ended up giving the latter to my grandfather for his eighty-fourth birthday last week. He published a book of his own a couple of years ago and it meant a lot to me. He'd been working on it for years and I know it was important to him to share it with the family. He and I got to talking about books and he told me he'd never read Lewis and I couldn't believe it! In some ways, Lewis reminds me of my grandfather. They both have/had such a profound and deep relationship with God. They are both what I consider to be gentlemen. They both shared their souls with the world. Two great men. You see why I had to introduce them. I hope they get on as well as I imagine they will.

Reading these stories I love so much makes me wish I could write them. I don't believe the world has given us anyone who could hold a candle to authors like MacDonald, Lewis, and Tolkien. The one exception I would make, is for James Oliver Rigney Jr., better known as Robert Jordan. What I wouldn't give to spend an evening in the company of these late, great writers. They were the true masters of fantasy. Their books changed my life in ways no other author has. They made me BELIEVE. I find it shocking that MacDonald has not been given his due these days. Movies have been made of Tolkien and Lewis's works, but they, themselves, were inspired by MacDonald. Few stories even come CLOSE to the wonder of "Phantastes" and "Lilith". I haven't even read all of his works. They're not exactly easy to come by. Easier in this age of internet shopping, but still not that common. The thought of such tales being forgotten is horrible.

I could go on about books forever, I suppose. Not surprising for one who dreams of having her very own library someday. Not a public one in it's own building really. I'd likely be happy with a rather large room in my house full of shelves of books. Dark wood, a stone fireplace (although fire around the books makes me kind of nervous so I'm not settled on this), over-sized chairs, and one of those rolling ladders to reach the higher books. A couple of really big windows with a window seat would be nice, too, but with heavy drapes to keep the sun from bleaching the spines of the books.

As long as I'm dreaming, I want it inside of my own English manor complete with moor, garden, and staff.

And I want a pony, too.

So there you have it. One hundred posts and still going. Exciting, isn't it?

Submarine Shopping


If you happened to see my status on Facebook tonight, you might have thought I was being sarcastic. Especially if you also happened to notice that my results from the sarcasm quiz stated that I was abnormally sarcastic. (I didn't realize you could be normally sarcastic, but yay for being off the charts again!) I said that I was shopping for a yellow submarine. That's actually true. Perrin has fallen in love with that song. (Yes, I am raising two more Beatles fans) We were at the library a couple of months ago and, lo and behold, I stumbled across the book "Yellow Submarine"! Perrin was as excited as I was. He had to show it to EVERYONE in the library and tell them "Yellow Submarine" is his favorite song. (I though we'd never get to the checkout desk!) Needless to say, that book has been at our house almost constantly ever since.

So, tonight I decided I'd better look into getting our own copy. You know, in case someone else wants to borrow the library's copy. I found it on Amazon, but then got to looking around and found the DVD. I compared prices and bought one off of Ebay. I can't wait to see Perrin's face! It's a good thing I love the Beatles so much, because I'll probably be hearing that DVD nonstop for awhile! (Did I mention I'm wearing my Beatles t-shirt right this very minute?) I also found a kid-sized shirt with the yellow submarine on it, but I have to draw the line somewhere when it comes to my spending. If Perrin is still into this at Christmastime, well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

While window (Get it? Window(s)) shopping (Sorry. That WAS really bad) on Amazon, I looked up the HD DVD collection of the BBC series "Planet Earth". I want this. I know, I'm such a dork, but seriously. Have you seen this show? It's AMAZING. It's the first thing I've actually been dying to watch in HD. The people who shot the footage for that show are beyond talented. And BRAVE! Yeah, sorry, but I'm not swimming with piranha no matter HOW much scuba gear you give me. Well, maybe it you pulled all their devilish little teeth out first. But then, there goes the whole "no animals were harmed" bit.

Right. Got distracted there for a minute. Scary visions of demonic little fishes swimming up the shower drain. *shiver* It must be bedtime. I think I'll go read some Wodehouse to wipe the creepies out of my brain before I go to sleep. I'll let you know how the DVD turns out.

Help Mii!

Charlie has confiscated the Wii Fit! I guess all that teasing him about his ever-lower-hanging paunch finally got to him.

"How do you turn this thing on?"

"There we go. I think I'll start with "Aerobics" today. I'm already pretty decent at the whole "Balance" thing."

"Hey! What are YOU looking at? Can't a cat get some privacy around here? I suppose you think this is funny. Just remember, I could smother you in your sleep with this gut."

I wonder if I'll ever get to use it again?

Happy St. What?


You'll have to forgive me if my writing lacks something this evening. I've had next to no sleep in the last three days. Perrin has been sick. Not pukey sick, thank goodness! He's had a cold for a couple of weeks, but in the last three or four days it has gotten progressively worse. He' so congested he can hardly breathe and he has this horrible cough that makes me wince every time I hear it. He coughs and cries ALL NIGHT LONG. One or two nights of this I'm used to, but three is not normal. Desperate for sleep ( for him AND for me ), I called the pediatrician's office today. For once, I got in right away. Turns out, Perrin has a pretty nasty ear infection in his right ear. I'm sorry, doctor, but WHAT did you say? An ear infection? Wow. I wasn't expecting that. Neither one of my kids has ever one before so I had no idea what to look for. The really weird part is, Perrin never complained his ear hurt or even pulled at it or anything. Even the doctor was surprised. He's a tough guy after all. So what if his favorite color is purple?

As for the holiday, no green beer or beads (since when did beads become a part of St. Patrick's Day anyway?) or blarney stones here. Although, seeing as I'm looking at at least a couple more nights of sick Perrin before the antibiotic kicks in, perhaps some green malt-beverage might be in order tonight. There will always be a shamrock in my heart for my Irish blood. And my two little leprechauns never stop making mischief.

May the sound of happy music,

and the lilt of Irish laughter,

Fill your heart with gladness,

that stays forever after.

Where's the Sun?


I almost missed posting this month, didn't I? I can't really blame it on being too busy. I've just been fighting off the winter blues. I start getting really desperate for Spring around this time each year. Those occasional warm days in between the piles of snow dumped from the sky just aren't enough anymore. I need more fresh air and sunshine. I'm ready to thaw out. Now if only the weather would cooperate.

Perrin turned three this month. It was fun for him, and a little sad for me. My "baby" isn't a baby anymore. He's still small and totally adorable, but he's growing so fast. So is Abby. She's going to be five in just a couple of days! How is that possible? She will be starting school this year. I've pretty much set my mind on home school, but I'm not sure Heath is convinced. I just believe the kids will get so much more out of home school and I like the fact that I will be in control of the curriculum. We could go on field trips as often as we liked. We could do more hands-on activities. The best part, I think, is that I can tailor programs to fit each of the kids' needs individually. I probably sound biased, but I think Abby is too intelligent to be stuck in public school. She deserves limitless possibilities. I believe home school can provide them.

I also became an aunt this month. (Yes, yes...Auntie Em) Heath's brother Chad; or more accurately, Chad's wife, Alicia; had a baby girl on the 11th. Her name is EmmaLee. No. Before you ask, she's not named after me. At least, not to my knowledge. I must applaud them for choosing a more unique spelling of such a popular name. I would love for us to be able to go down and see her in person, but I don't see that in the budget this year. Her picture shows she's adorable, of course.

On the down side, all of this has set a spark to the "let's-have-another-baby" fire. At least for me. I feel the smoke starting to curl up from the kindling and I keep trying to ignore it and hope it goes away. I would love to have another baby, but not the way the economy is right now. Heath is barely working and I don't know when things will pick up. Plus, dealing with a newborn during my first year of home school? And of course, I wouldn't be able to change the litter box while I was pregnant. (Wait, that should be on the "pros" list, shouldn't it...) Then there's the fact that Perrin still needs potty-trained. I can't understand why he WANTS to stay in diapers.

Anyway. That's where I'm at right now. I'm just trying to survive until Spring. I hope it comes soon.

Snow Day

I am not shy about my hatred of snow. While I'm willing to admit that freshly fallen snow under the light of a full moon has a sort of celestial beauty, it's far too cold. After about thirty seconds outside in the snow, I can no longer feel my hands and feet. And, yes, that is WITH gloves and boots on. I do my best to bundle up when I must journey forth into winter's fury. Years of riding the school bus with frozen appendages taught me that much.

So. Knowing how I feel about snow, it should impress you to know that I actually went outside with the kids to make snowmen a few days ago. Heath joined us and, of course, his snowman was over twice the size of mine. Brute strength may give him the advantage in the SIZE of his snowmen, but I have the advantage when it comes to the shape of them. MY snowperson was actually a snow PRINCESS (for Abby) with a tiara and floor-length gown. Although, I had to make one little snowman whose head was rolling down the hill in front of him in the tradition of "Calvin & Hobbes". I wonder what the neighbors thought of THAT one!

I built one sitting on top of the mailbox, too, but Heath assasinated him when he got the mail. Poor thing. Never even got the chance to melt.

Another New Year


Heath suggested we make resolutions this year. I declined to participate as I don't feel I need anymore expectations to live up to. Especially not in my own mind! Living with depression is enough of a challenge, but parenting with depression? Yeah. My plate is full enough already, thanks. No need for resolutions. I'm just trying to get past the point where I'm merely surviving each day by itself. Everyone in this house deserves better than that.

Peaceful sleep still eludes me. I'm trying to avoid taking sleeping meds, but what else can you do when it's 3am and your mind is going like a cracked out hamster in a wheel? The doctors tell you to get out of bed and sit quietly in a dark room until you're tired. I'm convinced I'd become completely nocturnal if I tried that approach. That may work for owls, but that's because their offspring are nocturnal, too. Mine are not. I still don't understand how Perrin is a morning person when Heath and I are not. If he wasn't so stinking adorable it would be really annoying.

Abby has decided she wants to learn "Kung Food". Is that a new kind of Asian cuisine or self-defense for entrees? She doesn't get words wrong very often anymore. When she does, one clarification is all it takes. I'm probably biased, but I think she's exceptional for her age. She has always amazed me with how fast she learns. I mean, how many children know the color "chartreuse" at the age of two? I don't mean two-almost-three, I mean just BARELY two. If only she hadn't had to suck my brain out to grow her own...

Perrin continues to fight me on the potty-training issue. He seems determined to stay in diapers for some reason. Abby was ready by this age, but I shouldn't expect Perrin to be, I suppose. I know he'll get there eventually, but it would be SO nice to not have to change anymore diapers! If he's not ready by summer, I'm going to have to really motivate him somehow.

So far, 2009 is going well. Money is still tight, but I've admitted to my spending problem and realized I need to cut back. Thank goodness it's almost tax time! We should get a really nice refund this year since we bought the house. I hope so. Heath and I have talked about taking a "honeymoon" to Vegas for a weekend since we never had a real one. Of course, I'd prefer England or maybe someplace tropical, but Vegas would be fun, too. Besides, Vegas is alot more affordable as long as I can keep Heath from spending too much in the casinos! My international adventures will just have to wait until we win the lottery. Maybe someday...