Update

October 18, 2018 to June 24, 2020.  That's how long it's been since I last posted to this blog.  Not sure why except maybe there just seems to be too much to say.  Or, not enough.

Quick update - Kiddo is now 16 and driving.  Little Bit is now 13 and thinks she knows all.  We're all in strange times due to this Covid-19 virus and the quarantines.  Hubby hasn't been able to work at all, which is a huge stressor, but I'm grateful to be able to work at home.  I'm working from home most days but am allowed to go into the office one day a week and more if absolutely necessary.  I've been tested for Covid-19 twice, both times with a negative result.  I actually do have a story about that, but maybe for another time.

Booker the Wonder Kitty and Wendy Lou the Tiny Furry Dictator are both still around, of course.  They're a source of constant amusement, weirdness, and joy.  Fuzz Therapy is highly recommended.

I'm still a puppeteer.  If you haven't checked out the videos, find us on Facebook at Hands in Service at Kern or on YouTube at H.I.S. Puppeteers.  Make sure to like and share the videos, and subscribe to the channel!  We're hoping for 100 subscribers!  I guess that's kind of funny when you consider there are YouTube channels out there with thousands...MILLIONS...of subscribers, but we're not in it for the money.  Just the fun.

Anyway - that's it.  That's nearly 2 years worth of updates.  I haven't drawn anything in forever.  I haven't really written anything in forever.  Who knows if I ever will again, but for now I'm not feeling the call to do either - this post not withstanding.  So stay safe.  Stay strong.  Stay healthy.

TTFN
JMS

Long Weekends: Blessing or Curse?

It's amazing how much a long weekend can disrupt an otherwise mostly-well-oiled routine. I mean, it's just one measly extra day, right?

For example: This weekend was a long weekend. We got an extra day because of the Labor Day holiday, so both kids were off school, and both hubby and I were off work. On this day, we were also invited to spend time with some dear friends of ours who recently got a small watercraft. Yes, I shall even call it a boat, as it is one. With some planning, we met said friends at the local boat ramp and, after a few false starts, managed to be on the water by about 11:00 a.m.

We enjoyed a lovely four solid hours buzzing around on the lake, towing the kiddos behind on a floaty-thing and reveling in their smiles and shrieks of laughter, and generally enjoying the day. Eventually, the aboard-boat snacks couldn't hold back the hunger, so we returned to the boat ramp, replaced the small craft upon its trailer, and headed to a restaurant where we proceeded to eat. A lot.

Fast forward to the next morning.

Kids slow to rise and get moving, so the proverbial Cattle Prods were removed from their safe spot and used liberally. (You do understand, we don't own cattle prods, right?) We left the house about 10 minutes later than usual only to find out that Boy-child had left his lunch box at school on Friday. When I asked him where his lunch was, he said, "In my backpack." I don't even want to know what he did, or did not, pack for lunch. I asked him where his trumpet was (he has band every day!), to which he responded, "Uh....I really don't know." REALLY!? Come on, kid! We called hubby, who said he'd bring it to the school later.

Girl-child, too, forgot her instrument (a viola) and called hubby to beg him to bring it to her.

Both kiddos forgot to brush their teeth, so we made them both go back inside and do that before they left the house. Which, I realize, added to our lateness, but tooth care is important!

Both kids were lethargic and quiet.

Both kids made mention of needing at least six more hours of sleep.

Both kids are going to have to deal with it and get through their respective days.

Welcome to adulthood, boys and girls.

For my part, I went to bed early-ish, got up as usual, got through my routine as usual, didn't forget anything, and, aside from being a bit later in arriving to work than I might prefer, I was still on time. This, friends and neighbors, comes from years and years of experience.

And...telling myself to "Do it anyway."

Even when I don't wanna.

TTFN
JMS

PS: I wish the kids would buy into my mantra!

Me vs. My Traitorous Mind

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please watch this video BEFORE reading the post below.

Watching this video, I realized yet again, that I am not the only one who has this problem. BUT, for every person who has anxiety issues, there are just as many people who don’t, cannot, or refuse to, understand the anxious person. I’m no doctor, but neither can I explain WHY I feel or think the things I do.

Granted, a lot of the things I think or feel might not be true, at least as far as the non-anxious person is concerned, but the things ARE true to me.

I DO feel fat and ugly and useless and good for nothing and…(I won’t go on)…even while at the same time I know those things aren’t really true.  Yes, I may be overweight and average-looking (who really cares, right?) but I am not useless and good for nothing. And see…even as I type that my brain is working against me: But what about all those days you come home from work and do nothing except crawl into bed, huh? What about those times? What about when you just want to be left alone and don’t want to talk to anyone, even your family, when all they want is your time and attention?

Well, I can’t explain it. I’m tired. Really, actually, truthfully tired. And it’s not just a physical exhaustion, it’s a mental one – which is even harder to explain. I’ve spent all day “people-ing” and I just don’t have it in me to “people” any more. And every time I hear my name I cringe inside. And stuffing my ears with an audiobook doesn’t help, because I get interrupted anyway. I cannot ever tune out 100% as I want to.

And yes, dammit, it’s freaking selfish. I know it’s selfish. But it’s also self-preservation. And – if I’m being honest – I’m preserving others, too. The 11^th Commandment: Thou Shalt Not Harm Self or Others. That’s an institutionalizing offense!

So, when I express aloud that I feel a certain way, and it’s irrational and confusing to you, by the love of all that is holy, please, let it go. (No, I won’t sing.) Just assume it’s my anxiety talking and go with it. Trying to question me, or make me see things a different way, only makes me more anxious and then I yell. Or cry. Or some snotty, tearful combination of both. Suffice it to say, it gets ugly.

Every day I tell myself how awful I look because I FEEL AWFUL!

Every day I wake up and want to immediately put my head right back down on the pillow and IGNORE MY RESPONSIBILITIES in lieu of sleep. Sleep is good. But then I have insomnia, too. So, I have trouble sleeping - both getting there and staying there. And my legs are restless which is SO ANNOYING.

Every day I have to force a smile when I speak to most people. I have to qualify that: MOST people. Not ALL people. There are some people who do not make me anxious, but they’re very few. And people as a general whole, en masse? Nope. Sorry. I’ll stay in bed, thanks.

Every day I tell myself how others feel negatively toward me, no matter what they might say aloud to the contrary. I’m convinced I’m not worth anyone’s real love, attention, or respect.

BUT I STILL TRY. I still try to DO IT ANYWAY. I’ve said this before. I try to get up anyway. Go to work anyway. Talk to people anyway. Smile and be friendly anyway.

And today isn’t any different.

I cannot say doing it all anyway is strength or courage. It isn’t. It’s a survival mechanism.

And you don't want to hear all this crap anyway.

TTFN

JMS

Busy, much?

So, I guess I officially suck at blogging.

But you know what? I don't really care. I still love it, and will blog when I can, but I guess I don't feel like I NEED to have an update every day, every week, or even every month. I can't force it, right?

***

I've been busy, too. Kinda keeping a few things under my hat for now, but I've been drawing again. Well, doodling, really. But the doodling morphed from small doodles (like the one at the left) to bigger ones, to stuff people might actually call "ART" on some occasions. This, in turn, has also morphed into some actual pen/ink/colored-pencil drawing. Again, I'm going to keep some of it to myself for now, but in the meantime, what I can tell you is that my ETSY store is open again! (There's a link on the right under the heading of "My Hobbies" - in case you're interested.)

The doodling (especially) and drawing has been fun and, more than I ever could have anticipated or imagined, has been amazingly soothing for me. So, though my thumb feels like someone has poured cement into the joints and the writing callus on my middle finger is slightly sore and definitely more pronounced, I'm creating something tangible again. Not just writing creepy micro-fiction, though I haven't let that go, either. Hey - you love what you love, right?

***

In other news:

• The month of March brought my kids each another year. Boy-child is now 14 and Girl-child is now 11. Please, pray for me. Mostly they're great kids, but every now and then I wonder, "It's wrong to kill my kids, isn't it?" Parenting is most DEFINITELY NOT for the faint of heart.
• I had dental issues. Well, one tooth in particular decided it didn't want or need to be in my mouth any more and tried to commit suicide. It was especially horrifying for me because I'm legitimately terrified of the dentist. I was quite proud of myself for handling the dental visit and subsequent oral surgery to remove the tooth without winding up in a padded room. I still have the dental implant process and eventual crown to look forward to (ha ha) but at least, at this point, I know I can handle it. I don't have to like something to be able to deal with it, do I?
• The Puppet Ministry I'm part of at our church is beginning to branch out. It is something else I truly love and, though the work isn't easy, it's fun. We now have a YouTube channel at H.I.S. Puppeteers, so check it out! Make sure to subscribe and ring the bell so you'll know when we upload a new video. Also, we've started taking the show on the road (Have puppets; will travel!) and so far, we have two shows in April on the same weekend, one in May, and an entire week booked at a Christian camp in Indiana in June! 

So, the humans at Chez Shell are fine, the felines are fat and happy and spoiled, and (as applicable) school and work are all going well. We are all truly looking forward to warmer weather so we can spend some time outside. The kids want to build a Bird Garden in the backyard, so we're collecting bird feeders and houses right now, and, once things smooth out weather-wise, I'll dig in with them and help because it sounds like such a neat idea and will be fun to do something like that with them.

I guess that's it!

TTFN
JMS

The Messy, Crazy, Chaotic Life With Kids

What parent, at some point in their Parenting Career, hasn't thought, "Geez...kids are hard!"?

Yeah, you love them and they're cute and you're glad they're around, and truthfully you cannot imagine your life without them, but...

• They're messy
• They smell
• They leave their clothes all over the place and don't seem to understand what a hamper is for. Or, they'll jump-shot the clothes in the general direction of the hamper, but if the item falls short, it will stay where it lands.
• They're picky - about food, about the way their clothes fit, about their hair, about the color of the sky or the grass
• They can be super annoying
• They don't listen - or, at the very least, have selective hearing. ("Huh? What did you say?")
• They neglect their chores unless you remind them and when you remind them they get irritated that you reminded them because they're not dumb, mo-om! Sheesh!
• They talk...like, all the time. Sometimes it's exhausting.
• They need you when you're peeing or showering behind a closed door and feel a driving need to knock and ask you what you're doing as if it weren't obvious. (At least they don't stick furry paws under the door and try to get in, or snag the nearest whatever on the floor with their claws, or cry obsessively until you let them in. Oh...wait, yeah - they kinda do, but it depends on their age.)
• They almost never go to sleep when you tell them to. There's always one more thing.
• They have fifty-eleven hobbies or obsessions or collections going at any one time so there's stuff everywhere.
• They haven't figured out how to file yet, so there's paperwork everywhere. (Oh, wait...that's...uh...never mind.)

On the flip-side of that coin, though...

• They love you, and find lots of little ways to show it. Hugs are huge in our family and Girl-child could probably squeeze you to death if you let her. She's very effusive.
• They enjoy spending time with you - and miss you when you're peeing or showering and therefore must simply remind themselves that you're there...somewhere...in the house with them.
• They think you're pretty funny - most of the time - and laugh at your stupid jokes, silly stories, and goofy voices.
• They talk to you...like, all the time...because they need to. They need someone they trust to talk to and I am grateful every day my kids are little chatterboxes and that they come to me when something's up. Sometimes I need to drag it out of them, but that's really pretty rare.
• They have good, comfy beds and whether or not they get in them when I tell them to, they do sleep and have a safe, warm place to do it.
• The stuff they're picky about? I don't really care so much any more. It used to bug me to no end when (for example) Girl-child absolutely refused to wear jeans of any kind (I'm a jeans and tee shirt kind of gal and she's not) but now, provided she's dressed modestly and comfortably, I just don't care what she wears. She's her own person, right? Boy-child has never really been too picky about his clothes, he just gets dressed and that's that. When they're picky about food, they know I'm not going to cater to them and make them another meal. They can figure out what to eat if they're not going to eat what I (or hubby) put in front of them. They won't starve.
• They have fifty-eleven hobbies, obsessions, or collections because they're still figuring out what they like to do. They're developing those things and it's a hands-on experience. So all the fishing gear, all the electronics, all the pieces of cut cardboard, foam-core board, paper, all the doll clothes, all the colored pencils and drawing pads, well...yeah - they're everywhere and I would sometimes like to throw it all out and turn my house into a museum, but...my kids live there.
• They want to snuggle with you - even at 13 years old. That time is so precious to me. It is sometimes - admittedly - hard for me to stop being selfish and go spend that time with them. And I'll be the first to admit I sometimes tell them, "Not tonight," because, frankly, I'm tired. But they still ask. And I won't always be there to tuck them in, so I should take full advantage of this, right?
• When they're asleep, the sound of their even breathing calms me down.
• When hubby and kiddos are gone, I don't sleep well AT ALL. So it's better when they're there.

Life with kids is busy and messy and crazy and chaotic and there's always stuff to do all the time and stuff everywhere all the time. Do I wish sometimes it were quiet? Just me and my thoughts and maybe the cats or a good book? Absolutely. (Though, me, alone with my thoughts, might not be such a good idea, really.) That doesn't mean I don't want my family around. It just means I'm human and need some Me Time occasionally. But I wouldn't trade my kiddos for the world. 

I know it's going to get more difficult as we really push our way into the teenage years (they're currently 13 and 10) and there will be a time or two that they think they hate me. But I'm OK with that, I guess. I know it will upset me, but I'll deal with it when the time comes. Right now, I'm just reminding myself to be grateful for them, for the mess (even though I hate living in chaos) because it reminds me that my kids are living their lives and are happy.

TTFN
JMS

Testing Our Wings

An interesting, and unusual (for us) situation has arisen. Hubby has a late work appointment tonight, and I have a class, so suddenly there is a glaring lack of child care for the brief period of time we'll both be away from the house. Hubby and I came to a mutual agreement that, at 13 and 10 years old, the kiddos are both old enough for us to leave them at home on their own for an hour and change.

I'm having a Minor Mommy Moment. You know...those moments where you realize your kiddos are growing up and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Those Firsts. Of letting the baby birds test their wings. Of understanding in your head that everything will - truly - be fine, but you're having difficulty convincing your heart. Of suddenly realizing you're eyes are leaking a little bit and wondering how that happened.

....GASP....

OK. I'm fine now. But I know that later, when it comes time to actually leave them, I'll start worrying again. Even though I've got everything totally in place in case there's an emergency. They know all the important numbers, they know where to go if they have to leave the house... I will only be gone an hour. (I'll only be gone an hour. I'll only be gone an hour...)

Actually, I want to say something else on the subject. Related, but separate. I live in a neighborhood of mostly rental homes, and truthfully, I'm not 100% secure with our neighbor situation. We have a dearth of people I deem trustworthy. (We had excellent next door neighbors up until about 2 weeks ago when their house sold and they moved away and now we miss them terribly!) Don't misunderstand me, I know that "Rental Home" doesn't automatically equal "Sketchy Neighbors," but in this case I feel decidedly less than enthusiastic about our choices for emergency kiddo assistance.

In considering my "contingency plan" for tonight - my Just in Case of Emergency Back-up - I thought: Who do I know? To whom could I send the kids if a real emergency came up? If _________ were still next door I'd just send the kids there, but they're not. Option B? Think! Think! 

I finally alighted upon two sisters who live across the street - in separate houses - with whom I've had lovely and happy conversations in the past. They're both huge animal lovers (almost an automatic trust thing with me), they assist sometimes with rescue and I know they've both helped with donations to a local non-profit animal rescue. They do what they can. Girl child sold Girl Scout Cookies to both of them this past cookie season. And...I know how to get in touch with at least one of them! A ha! I'll ask her!

So, I reached out via Facebook Messenger. I relayed my plight and further said she probably wouldn't have to do anything but I wanted a place the kids could run to in case of emergency; someone I trust. She immediately responded with: "ABSOLUTELY! We'll be home and here is my cell number. Happy to help!" (I'm paraphrasing, but that's the gist of it.) And right away, my anxiety decreased to acceptable levels.

So, kids will be set. I'll only be about 3 minutes away and can be home in a heartbeat if needed. They have all the important information they need. They'll have had dinner. Their homework will be done already. I'm sure if I pop in a movie they won't move at all while I'm gone, or even notice I'm gone.

This parenting thing never gets easier. In my opinion it's harder when they're very young and there's so much to coordinate. But still, it never gets easier; the decisions just change. Also, hubby and I tend to be pretty conservative about what we allow our kids to do - like what video games they play, what they look at on the Internet (the Internet is a deep and scary place for kids), how much "screen time" they get on their tablets; it's not a free-for-all. Therefore, you can imagine how picky we are about who has access to our kids.

Wish us luck!

TTFN
JMS

By the way...in case you were wondering, no, I did not just put my kids at risk by letting the world know when they'd be home alone. I purposely did not post this until after I got home again. I'm not that dumb. :)

Calling a spade a spade

It was pointed out to me recently (kindly, with no malice intended) that my posts make it sound like I'm a single parent.  I have discussed this with the person who commented and things are completely resolved.  Well, I guess you can't have resolution where there really wasn't an issue in the first place, but I think you get what I mean.  However, I feel that I need to address this further.

I am happily married.  Sure, we have our arguments; all married couples do.  But we've been married for over sixteen years and haven't killed each other - or wanted rid of one another - yet.

My hubby is a very private person.  He's grudgingly on Facebook because I kinda forced him into it a few years ago by creating an account for him.  I think he's finally - after all these years - seeing its draw.  And, I'm sure, its drawbacks.  But I digress.  He doesn't really like it when I write about him - specifically - so I've gotten into the habit of just not writing too much about him.  I'm far more open than he is, anyway.  He's always there, though.  My one constant.  My one strong point.  Lifting me up when I've let life overwhelm me, which happens far more often than I care to admit.  Sometimes, he doesn't even know he's helping, but he is.

I'm gonna embarrass the heck out of him now, though.

Here's to my fixer-of-kitchen-sinks, doer-of-own-laundry, Chief Kid Wrangler, raker of leaves and mower of lawns, handler of all the things, constant companion, partner in crime, pain in my rear, aways putting the toilet paper on the holder the wrong way, love of my life.  I couldn't do it - do anything, really - without you.

One other thing. I do not know what it is like to be a single parent.  I cannot even begin to understand the challenges single parents face and would never profess otherwise.  If I understand anything about it, it is this: It's a hugely important job and a singularly difficult one with it's own particular set of challenges encompassing not only care of oneself, but other little lives who depend on you, along with a sometimes sad, and other times lonely experience.  My hats off to you. 

TTFN
JMS

Forcing myself to think of the good things

I think I mentioned in another post (and probably, if you really dig, several other posts) how I struggle to keep my emotional head above water and to not be so darned negative all the time.  But my negativity is about to rear its ugly head.

WOULD 2016 JUST END ALREADY?  PLEASE?

SHEESH!

Okay.  I've gotten that out of my system.  Feel free to sound off in the comments, too, if you want.  It's an open forum after all, right?

Do I feel better?  Not really.  But in order to make myself feel better, I'm going to say a few things about stuff which has made me feel good this year.  In no particular order, they are:

** Going to see Alice's Restaurant performed live at a local restaurant - by a very talented musician - just before Thanksgiving.  I love that song.  I know every word.  And it brings me joy every time I hear it.  It was especially fun to listen to it performed live.  The artist made it his own without compromising the integrity of Arlo Guthrie's original.  That takes skill!

** And of course, there's Booker T. Jet Black Alley Cat.  I can't neglect to mention him.  He's brought joy and fuzz and snuggles and silliness to our house and I just adore him.  The kids love him, too, so that's awesome.  His "Gotcha" day was Friday, May 13 and he's a black kitty.  He has crossed my path each morning - on the way to the food bowl - and hasn't tripped me up yet.

** Two visits from my father.  The first one, back in March, was after a solid ten year lapse.  It's been an amazing thing to reconnect with him, and to have him get to know his grand kids.  They're totally in love with Grandpa, too, so it's a mutual thing.

** Being part of the Puppet Ministry at church.  It is a fantastic outlet for my Inner Weird Person and so much fun!  Oh, who am I kidding?  I'm just a Weird Person.  No "inner" about it!  But it gives me a chance to use these stupid voices I've made up for a better purpose than just being obnoxious or having fun with my kiddos.

And...I'm done now.  I guess it's kind of a short list, isn't it?  And there have been other things I'm sure I've forgotten about.  Apparently, I have trouble in that regard; allowing the negative (there I go again) to overshadow the positive.  I'm trying.  I really am.  Of course, there are my daily joys of getting to see my kiddos after work and hear about their respective days.  And the joy of looking at my physical surroundings - of East Tennessee - and remembering what a beautiful place this is.

TTFN
JMS

Nag, nag, nag...

There's a saying that goes something like this: 'The hardest thing about being on a diet is shutting up about it."

I get that.  No one really wants to hear about what a pain in the butt it is to lose weight or your trials and tribulations toward a healthier (happier?) you.  Really – just eat the silly rabbit food and move on with your day.

Here's my (similar, yet not) saying: "The hardest part about giving your kids chores to do is waiting to see if the chores will get done without you having to nag the crap out of the kids."

The answer?  Nope.  They really won't do it if you don't bug them.

Therefore, please do not tell me to stop nagging because, aside from royally ticking me off, if I don't strongly encourage a thing to be done - with frustrating regularity - nothing (and I do mean nothing) will get done. Ever.

***

I decided it was finally time to start bribing…um…I mean giving my kids an allowance.  But, before you start wondering why I would do that if they're not doing anything, let me explain.

Boy child has a chart and a set of chores to do daily, and he gets a set amount of money (a small amount) per chore, per day.  He has the ability to earn up to $8.00 a week.  Boy child has been making a concerted – and voluntary – effort to get all his chores done before going to bed and seems to be excited about the prospect of earning a little bit of money.

Girl child also has a chart and a set of chores – same rules apply – and she has the ability to earn up to $6.00 a week.  (Different, age-appropriate chores + different kiddos = different allowance earnings.)  I do not anticipate she will earn the entire amount each week because she's not particularly enthused about the whole thing.  She does like the idea of being able to earn a little bit of money, but does not like the idea of having to do anything to get it. I have one word for you: Lazy. 

Bottom line – and they both know this – is that they must do the work or they do not get paid.  Also, mommy and daddy are not allowed to assist – their chores must be done by them.  The chores are not hard, and every single one of them is completely attainable – they just need to “buckle down” (I loathe that phrase, but it fits) and do the work.

So, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. I'm not holding my breath, though.  Wish me luck, will ya?

(I wonder if a chore chart for hubby would work?  Kinda like a honey-do list, only with regular, daily chores – and he wouldn’t get paid.  No?  Yeah…I thought not.  Was worth a try.)

TTFN

JMS

So...this happened.

I've already posted this on Facebook, so I'm sure that most of you already know about our new furry family member.  Introducing Booker T. Alley Cat.  Jet Black Alley Cat, that is. 

Fun Facts:

1) We adopted him on Friday the 13th.  What better time (in my opinion) to adopt a black cat?

2) He's 15.5 pounds.  The shelter folks said he was probably about 17 pounds, but then I weighed him.  Well, I weighed myself and then hefted the cat and did the math.  He's 15.5 pounds.

3) He's solid black.  Ok, so he's got a few white hairs on his belly (like 7 of them) and has a few white strays salted (ha ha) throughout his pepper.  But he's definitely a black cat.

4) He loves head bumps.  I love his head bumps.  This is how he says, "I love you!"

5) Did I mention he's huge?  We got a window seat thingy for him really, it's probably too small for him.  If he stretches while he's on it, he extends significantly on both sides.

6) He's great with the kiddos and the kiddos are great with him.  I'll see a kid walk by the bedroom door and a second later I'll see the cat following the kid, close on his or her heels.

7) He no longer has to live in a too-small cage eating next to his litter box and getting no love at all.

8) Part of his name (Jet Black Alley Cat) is for our nephew Zach's band of the same name.  They're awesome!  (Go to YouTube and search Jet Black Alley Cat - then listen carefully and share extensively!)

We're all very excited!

That is all.

You may now return to your regularly-scheduled...uh...whatever-it-is-you-were-doing-before-you-found-this-post.

TTFN
JMS

My Christmas Spirit took a hike...

Recently, I was asked by girl-child what I wanted for Christmas.  It was odd, because I had, just that afternoon, thought of an answer to the very same question.  I think it would behoove me to explain just a bit. 

I was driving home from the World of Wally and I got to thinking - admittedly selfishly - about how I have spent all this time, effort and yes, money, finding gifts fit for each of my family members and then some.  It's not easy and I am not Mrs. Moneybags and I'm tired, by golly!  (My Christmas Spirit had, apparently, taken a hike.)  Then I thought of how no one ever asks me what I want for Christmas.  Then I thought, if someone were to ask me what I want for Christmas, what would I even say?  There's really nothing I need.  Really nothing I want that badly that I would ask someone else to buy it for me as a gift.  So how would I answer?

Here was my inner monologue: Well, I would love to have a tablet.  And, either Adrian the momma cat who is at the Shelter or Promise the beautiful, sleek, black cat who is being fostered.  They both really need a mommy.  But really, I can't think of anything else I'd like to have, other than a clean house.  Hey!  That's it!  I want a clean house for Christmas!  One I didn't have to clean myself!  And, of course, World Peace.  I always want World Peace.  And I want people to stop being mean to each other...

I was satisfied.  Should anyone ask, I had my answer.

Getting back to that question asked to me by girl-child:

Girl-Child: Mom, what do you want for Christmas?

Me: Oh, honey.  That's kind of a complicated question.  I would like a clean house for Christmas.  And someone to set up the Christmas tree.  And I don't want to do it myself.

Girl-Child: Mo-om!  It needs to be something I can give you!

Me: I would love to have a tablet.  And, either Adrian the momma cat who is at the Shelter or Promise the pretty black cat.  And a hug from you!

Girl-Child rolled her eyes at me, gave me a hug, and walked away.  Shortly thereafter I left for a meeting at church.  I was gone for about 2 hours.

When I got home, boy-child met me at the door and said, "Mom!  I need you to close your eyes and trust me."  Uh-oh, I think to myself.  What's going on?  But I close my eyes and he takes my hand, telling me he won't let me run into anything but advising me not to open my eyes.  I trust, give him my hand, and follow - eyes firmly shut.

He leads me to the bathroom and tells me to open my eyes; I can hear the excitement and pride in his voice.  I open my eyes to see a sparkling clean bathroom and boy-child bouncing on the balls of his feet with a HUGE grin on his face.  "You said you wanted a clean house for Christmas, so I cleaned the bathroom for you, mom!"  And I hugged him so tight and whispered an emphatic thank you. 

I was so touched - and proud of my sweet boy - I could hardly talk.  I know it's just a bathroom, but he must have worked his butt off to do that for me in the 2 hours I was gone.  A better gift I could not have asked for, or received.

Not to be outdone, girl-child snags my hand and says, "Mom!  Close your eyes and come with me."  I obey, and she leads me down the hall to her bedroom and says, "Now hold out your hands, like you're going to hold a box," and places a box in my hands and says, "Open your eyes!"  I can hear the excitement in her voice, too.  I open my eyes to see a plain, cardboard box, with a multi-colored yarn bow tied around it.  Girl-child instructs me to open the box, and inside I find a hand-made trophy with TO: The Best Mom In The World written in pencil on the plate.  Undone, I cried. 

I couldn't have better kids.  I'm going to brag about them whenever I can to whomever I can, without apology.  I will follow the rules about bathroom maintenance boy-child so carefully wrote out and posted on the wall.  I will treasure my cardboard trophy and show it off with pride.  And for me, I think Christmas has already come.  I hope yours is as meaningful as mine.

TTFN
JMS

One Mom's Honest Wish List

It bears repeating: Piss poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine!  (Maybe I just wanted an excuse to use this graphic.)  Yeah, I guess I'm being snarky.  I feel like the last few weeks I've been in emergency-management-mode rather than my usual, and preferred, mode of planning things out (to the best of my ability) ahead of time.  And, quite frankly, I'm tired. 

I guess being a parent (and, sometimes, a wife) automagically means you're in a constant state of crisis.  Mom!  I can't find my...  Mom!  I'm hungry.  Mom!  Can you help me with...  Mom!  I hate these pants!  Honey?  Have you see my...?  This crisis-mode sort of spills over into other aspects of my life (like work) and at this point, I'm kinda over it.  (I've been using that hashtag a lot lately, it seems.  #overit)  Below are a few things which, were they to occur, would, with minimal effort on the part of the others in my home, make my life so much easier.  **Fair warning, this could also be considered a list of Mom/Wife Peeves.  I'm certain I'm not the first person to come up with this list.

MOM'S WISH LIST

1. I don't want to have to uncover the dining table in order to be able to use it.  Your dishes should have been put in the sink after you were done eating.  This isn't difficult, really.  Just a matter of habit which you should be in already.  Breakfast dishes, especially.  Those icky, congealed bowls of leftover milk are disgusting.
2. I do not want to have to empty the dishwasher before I can fill it.  The dishwasher is not storage for clean dishes or a drying rack for wet ones.  Please put the dishes away, in the cabinets, where they belong.  If you can't reach, ask for help.
3. I do not want to empty the washing machine before I can use it.  Clothes which have been washed and have been left to sit - wet -  in the closed confines of the washing machine, have this awful habit of starting to stink (or wrinkle horribly) after a couple of hours.  This is the best reason to move the laundry along in a timely manner.  However, the other reason - the honest one - is that it just ticks me off when I go to use the machine and there is another load in there waiting to be dried.  I wash, you wash, I wash, you wash - we cannot wash at the same time.
4. I do not want to put away the ironing board so I can get to the dryer.  The small room which houses the dryer is not the place to iron your clothes.  Further, it is not the place to leave the ironing board set up.  The excuse that you were waiting for the iron to cool down is a weak one; there are other options.
5. I do not want to step on it.  If you spill it or drop it, pick it up.  Period.  If I find it on the floor, it will become mine - to do with as I please.  Up to, and including, throwing it away.  (This includes change.   If I find your forgotten or discarded nickles and dimes, they will become mine, too.)
6. If you pee in it, spit in it, or bathe in it, don't leave stuff on it.  Meaning, rinse out the sink after you're done brushing your teeth (or shaving your whiskers).  Wipe off the seat if you sprinkle when you tinkle.  Ring around the tub?  Mr. Clean Magic Erasers work wonders.  Just sayin'.
7. If you take it out, put it back.  Or, if you remove it from where it was, put it back where you found it.  This includes laundry which may be hanging up to dry which will not get dry lumped into a pile on the back of a closet door so you can shower.  This also goes for food, toys, games, and other items.

I've gotten to a point where I am just not doing anything because whenever I do something, someone goes right behind me and messes it up again.  I don't expect to live in a perfectly clean home; I have children and am aware that a clean home, at this point in my life, is next to impossible.  I do not want to live in an untouchable museum.  But I do expect the home I pay for (and all the stuff in it) to be treated with respect and taken care of.  Plus, treating my home (and all the stuff in it) like crap kinda feels like you're treating me that way, too.  And no, I'm not projecting your animated feelings onto an inanimate situation.  I know you love me - I love you, too - but I'm tired now, OK?

Please clean your own rooms, clear off your own dishes, wash your own clothes, etc.  Everyone in the house is now old enough to handle these things.  You are not too tired.  You are not too sick.  You are not too busy.  You are too lazy.  I will try to do better, too, because I know I'm not perfect. 

Signed, 

Exasperated Mom

Life Skills Resume -OR- Mommy Magic

I was thinking about what my resume might look like if I were simply honest.  I mean, not that my resume isn’t honest – it totally is – but it’s honest work stuff and not necessarily honest life stuff.  Does that make sense?  I mean, resumes are supposed to be all about how awesome you are at your job; the stuff you do that earns you a paycheck.  But what if we got paid for knowing and doing and being other stuff? 

For example:

SUMMARY:  Hard-working, committed mother of two with over 42 years of experience in the field of General Life.  Extensive background in service and commitment with a well-established ability to sacrifice for the sake of others.  Ability to meet important deadlines and complete homework projects.  Solid Internet research skills and a familiarity with multiple technical medias as they relate to networking and child appropriateness levels.  Child-friendly with ability to entertain biological children as well as children of others in a trusted, safe environment where they are encouraged to thrive.  Strong written, verbal, and interpersonal skills coupled with an ability to win in a family- or self-driven environment. 

EDUCATION: School of Hard Knocks

RELATED SKILLS:

• Proper coffee making
• Proper table setting
• Proper bed making
• Basic Mathematics
• Strong English Language vocabulary and grammar
• Proficient reading
• Excellent table manners
• Good hygiene, oral and body
• Above-average technical
• Quirky fashion sense
• Don’t have to keep up with The Jonses
• Extensive knowledge of Alone-Time benefits and recuperative powers
• Deep, enduring and life-affirming animal appreciation

I could add stuff like:

• Can make a campfire
• Can make macaroni and cheese
• Can pour without spilling
• Can color within the lines
• Can be serious or silly, depending on need
• Am thought to have certain magical abilities to include: having eyes in the back of my head, Extra Sensory Perception, Trouble identification, Boo-boo Care, and the ability to make red lights turn green with a wave of my fingers
• Am known to have a direct line to Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny (et al) and can contact any and all on short notice with behavior updates

I wonder what one would get paid for skills such as these?  Should my General Life job be considered my second job, or should it be considered my first job, and my job-job would then become my second job?  Am I confusing you yet?

Something to consider.  

My brain hurts.  I think I need coffee.  Or a glass of wine.

TTFN

JMS

When Life Happens...

I took a day off today (Monday, as I write this).  Not for any reason other than I needed a mental health day.  I think we’re allowed one of those every now and then.  I talked to my boss well in advance and we agreed this was acceptable, I got someone to cover the phones and handle any administrative-type things that might come up, so all my responsible little ducks were in their happy little rows.  I had intended to spend a good portion of the day doing absolutely nothing.  Yes, you heard me: Nothing.  No thing.  Not one thing.  And it was going to be good.  Plus, the story I was making up in my head was the day would include copious amounts of coffee.  So…excellent plan, right?

Then, life happened.

Get kids up and ready for school, showered and completely dressed, hair dry, breakfast in bellies, teeth brushed, backpacks ready, lunches made, planners signed.  (We do this every morning, except most mornings I’m gone by 6:30 so whatever happens after that is a mystery to me.)  And then I got to go with them to drop them off at school, and it was nice for me to be part of the routine my kids are so used to and flow through so well.  (To answer your question: Yes, I did get coffee.   Hubby drove to McDonald’s and went inside – in the rain – to get me a large cup of the black brew that flows through my veins and keeps me alive.  Boy-child didn’t dub it my Life Juice for no reason.)

We went home, and then the frenzy began.  First with the living room – because I couldn’t stand looking at it anymore; then with girl-child’s room – for the same reason.  At some point late morning hubby and I went to see SPECTRE (“Bond, James Bond.”) which was awesome.  It prompted me to go back and start watching all the Bond movies again; more on that later.

Then hubby went to get girl-child (I later went and picked up boy-child because he had a Cross Country party and didn't get done until 4:30) and when she came home, she almost flipped out about her room suddenly being mostly clean, but checked herself before a Full-blown Flip actually occurred and decided to help.  I think she decided to help to make sure nothing else got thrown away, but I’d been kind and hadn’t relieved her of anything she truly loved even though I was sorely tempted.  (Remember that hashtag?  #overit.) 

Anyway, we sorted books, stuffed animals, dolls, clothing…  It occurs to me the kid has more stuffed animals than she does clothes.  Is that a bad thing?  (Maybe if I could get her to wear stuff normal kids wear – like jeans – we would be OK but she’s so sensitive about her clothes and how they fit and the way they feel it’s hard to buy her anything she’ll actually wear.  And sometimes we buy something she loves but when we get it home and try to actually wear it, she decides it won’t work and will never touch it again.  This occurs after we’ve washed it and thrown away all the tags so returning it isn’t possible.  So frustrating.  Ok – I just left the tracks in true Tangent style…)

Boy-child had Scouts, so while he and Hubby were off doing boy-stuff, the girls (that’s us) hung out.  I taught her how to properly make her bed (including hospital corners), and then we played checkers, where she promptly – solidly and legitimately – beat me.  Little stinker.  She wanted to learn how to play chess, and at some point in my life I knew how (Grandma Tennie taught me) but it’s been so long I couldn’t remember.  So off to the good old inter of net and I started teaching girl-child about the pieces; what they’re called and how they move.  Memory served me pretty well, but the internet helped where my memory failed.  We didn’t actually get into a game, because by that time it was late, but we had fun.  She giggled – a lot – when I called the Bishop “The little frowny dude.”  I think that’s what he’ll be ever after in our house.

Anyway – with the cleaning and the normal life stuff and just hanging out with kiddos it was late before I knew it.  I did watch Dr. No (Hubby, who tried to watch it with me, fell asleep) but after that, and typing up this post, it was lights out.  Back to work tomorrow (Tuesday, as I write this).

I like it when life happens.

TTFN
JMS

Ten Things I Love Today

In the past 6 months or so, I've started following Ree Drummond's blog, The Pioneer Woman.  She's fun, funny, and uplifting.  She is an animal lover who also has great taste in food and housewares and, probably, tchotchkes.  (I just like that word.)  I'm quite enjoying myself, thank you very much.

Anyway, she posted Ten Things I Love Today, which made me grin like the madwoman I am, only more Cheshire Cat like.  I swear, my cheeks hurt.  Make sure you check out what Ree loves, but in the meantime, here are Ten Things I Love Today.  They may be different than the ten things I will love tomorrow, but I love them - in no particular order - today.

~~ ONE ~~

My kiddos.  Though I suppose I could count them as two, I won't.  They are the absolute lights of my life.  They are my reason for getting up each morning.  They are the reason I work so hard and the reason I know such enormous, all-encompassing love.

~~TWO~~

Hubby.  He's equal parts funny and foolish and fun.  He is half grizzly bear and half honey-loving, tummy-tickling, sweet-voiced Pooh Bear.  (I hope he doesn't smack me for that.)  He's whiskery and wiry and somewhat Sasquatch-like.  He is an excellent daddy and a great outdoors man, though he'd probably disagree with me, and I luv him.

~~THREE~~

Cats.  Their do-it-yourself-no-I-want-to-help-no-leave-me-alone-no-I-want-your-attention-no-wait-maybe-not ways.

~~FOUR~~

Dogs.  Their I-LOVE-YOU-YOU'RE-THE-BEST-THING-I'VE-EVER-SEEN-SINCE-BREAKFAST-OOOH!-BREAKFAST-IS-THAT-A-BALL-SQUIRREL! ways.

~~FIVE~~

Wine.  I admit it - I love a good glass of wine after a long day.  I don't drink every day, though sometimes I might like to.  For the longest time, I preferred an ice-cold white wine.  A Pinot Grigio or a Chardonnay, or even a Riesling when I want something a tad sweeter, but lately reds have been winning.  Not sure where this is going but...wine.

~~SIX~~

Cheese and crackers.  And hummus.  Oh, and maybe pita bread, too.  Ooooh!  Bread in general.  Wait, I got distracted.  What were we talking about again?

~~SEVEN~~

My girls.  Kit and Stacy and Beth and Kasi.  We shall grow old together, make fools of ourselves, and wear hot pink when the dress code clearly said black.  They are the ones who understand me perfectly when the words which come out of my mouth are exactly what they were when they were in my head - with no filter.  And further, they are not offended.

~~EIGHT~~

Music.  Of just about any kind, except the random stuff I don't like.  Nine Inch Nails to Helen Reddy and just about everything in between.  Today, I am singing a medley of tunes from Disney's The Little Mermaid and am perfectly happy with my inner iPod on shuffle.

~~NINE~~

My blankie.  Yes, you heard me right.  I am 40-something years old and I still sleep with a blankie.  My daughter and I sometimes argue over who it really belongs to, but it's mine, I say!  Mine!  It's a thrift-store blankie and it's pink (which is really not my color) but it's soft and reminds me of easier times.  It makes me go, "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh....." at the end of a long day.

~~TEN~~

This blog, and the, like, five people who actually read it unless I force them to.  I am not sure if I could function without this blog as an outlet for my weird.  This blog has allowed me to get things off my chest that no one else (except possibly my above-mentioned girls) would listen to or care about.  I love that this is a place where I can legitimately say what is on my mind, know my opinion is my own, and not have any expectations about differences of opinion.

Which I guess brings this post to a close.  My Ten are definitely not as interesting as Ree's Ten, but then we are not the same person and her loves are not my loves, and mine are not hers.  Wait, I think I got confused again.  I'm so glad it's Friday (as I write) and the weekend is upon me.

TTFN
JMS