oh em gee!!!

Today's my blogiversary!!!!

How long has it been now? 3 years? Seriously!? or was it 4?

It's hard for me to fathom the girl who sat in an office one afternoon and gave this whole thing a shot. I was so fearful at first and originally, I'd only shared the site with one person. My amazing Lisa.

I know the pickens have been a bit slim around here as of late, but it's November now and I'm hereby charged with not sucking as a blogger for this month. I'll be effortful to give y'all a little something during November. It might not be deep or insightful, but by golly, I'll give it a shot.

First day a'school! First day a'school!

On Monday, we started back to school for the '09-'10 school year. Each of the kids had their own reaction and preparation for this epic event.

I had my own.

Actually, mine has been brewing for a couple of months. It all started with me keeping up better on the laundry. It no longer migrates from the dryer to the couch for an endless period of time. I actually fold it when it comes OUT OF THE DRYER. Don't be jealous. Get all crazy...trying to be awesome like me with this mad skill...oh wait. that's right. You're already a grown up and this concept isn't new to you.

Anyway!!!!

I noticed a couple of months ago that the smallest's pants have gotten to be about the size that require the tri-fold and the middle guy? his pants have moved all the way to the quad fold.

THEN! On Sunday, I was over a friend's house and Mr. Middle walked up to me and I realized that I was almost looking up to him. Umm...WHAT?

Of course, in a tactical and completely grown-up move, we measured each other ON THE SPOT.

He's about exactly one inch shorter than me. I'm giving him about 3 weeks and he'll pass me for sure. *sigh* I'm not ready for this. :-) Meanwhile, I am equally, completely excited about this.

It's a pretty cool feeling as a mom to watch the babies grow up and become big and awesome. The Big and Awesome that Mr. Middle is bringing to the table right now is pretty much putting a HUGE smile in the deepest parts of my heart.

mile marker

What a difference 18 months makes

aHAHAHAHAHAHAHAaaaaa

Made ya look!!!

Actually, while this is a hard place for me to write, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the most awesomest girl in the whole wide world for getting me hooked on this here online journaling thing. This here, weblog. A living, breathing, dynamic stomping ground for my thoughts.

Today, oh specialist-girl-in-the-world-that-I-didn't-make, is YOUR Birthday!!! You are a jewel in my heart and I'm blessed because of you!!!!

posting more

All throughout my move experience, I can't count how many times I thought to myself, "dude, you should totally post that!" Alas, as has been my ongoing experience with that feeling, I did not and I honestly have very little recollection of much of any of the things that I'd considered posting during that week.

I will commit, however, to trying a bit harder to remember the things I think about posting. Lord knows, I'm online mostly all day, everyday. Of course, all the really good things happen when I'm not online. Well, really good as far as blogging about them goes.

Tomorrow, I will report to a new office. Same job, in a corporate park. I don't think that in all the jobs I've ever held that I've actually worked in a Corporate Office Park. Hopefully, the experience will continue to grow me as a person. Actually, I hope that the experience of my job won't be much different. That the only noticeable difference will be the physical address of the place. Well, that and my proximity to those I work with.

Cube Land!!! Here I come!!!

OH! That's right! There's some details I may have left out...

So, I mentioned in a previous post that I was considering moving. Well, I did it. About 3 weeks ago, to be specific. We're all moved in and enjoying quite a nice change to the normal, chaotic lives we'd become sort of accustomed to. Ya know something? I feel like I'm actually embracing the real grown up in me.

1. There was only one night with laundry on the couch. After folding those loads, I decided that if my mom could grow me up my whole life without laundry on the couch, I could probably also fold my laundry as it comes out of the dryer and just be done with it. I've made a new expectation of the children where they are responsible to put away their laundry as soon as it's folded, in the drawers where they belong. It's working AMAZINGLY!!!

2. Both boys are getting to school on time, every day, and from the school drop off, I've been heading straight into the office. That means that I've been waking up with them AND getting ready for the day!!

3. I battled with the school district over transportation and I WON!!!! It did take the entirety of 3 weeks and a rant. Go me!!!

So, we're all getting used to the new address. I'm switching up some other things and might actually get a Florida drivers license. Maybe.

Me. A grown up. Strange...

Rant

I'm really not much of a ranter, but I'm just about at the end of my rope with a particular situation. This situation is with that of the transportation department in the school district where I live.

Seriously? Unbelievable. Completely unacceptable. TOTALLY frustrating. GAH!!!!!

whew...okay, I feel better now.

How's about a little Grace?

So, while it's not 5 things, it's one really funny thing that made me very very happy to have a special kid.

We ate at a friend's house the other night. They served Rice and Beans as well as pork steak of one part or another of some poor pig's shoulder. After the meal, I asked the lady of the house what kind of beans she used. "Are they just red beans?" "No," she replied, "they're pinto beans, I believe." Middle Mann, sitting quietly across the table piped up and said, "Pinto, huh? I thought they were Porkn!"

Wait! I think that is 5 things!!!

1. Food I didn't have to prepare.

2. Friends with gracious, sharing hearts.

3. Relationship time after a meal with talking in real sentences.

4. My Middle Mann

5. Beans!!!!!!!! Even if they're not pork n beans

Ya know what? That's what!

I've hit a bit of a stopping point in the rush that has been the months since the beginning of the year. Busy has been the order of every day.

I've spent some time in the last few days doing some self-examination. Maybe bullets would be best for the next section.

• I am a very capable person.
• I think I can do more than the average person in a day.
• I am often convinced that my value is completely based on what I can accomplish.
• I despise lists.
• Once I feel the beginnings of wasted time in my life, I find myself making lists of what I've done so that I can give myself credit for feeling tired or busy or wasteful of time.
• Then I begin to despise myself for making the above mentioned list.
• Then I think, "Why are you so compelled, self, to get credit. Just get stuff done."
• Then I think, "Dude?! I am getting stuff done! Check out the list!?!"
• Then I think, "What's up with you thinking that your value is based solely on what you accomplish and get credit for?"

Well, I think you probably get the picture. I get knotted up having expectations for people that they simply cannot meet. Not due to any short coming on their part, but because I am downright, unreal. I don't know how to effectively just be okay with myself for what I do nor do I know how to be okay if there I things I'm not awesome at getting done.

So, this last couple of days, I've been working hard on getting out of the self-centered cycle and onto the reality that I'm a decent enough person. I work hard. Other people work hard. They sleep with a clear conscience and so. can. I. I'm not, in fact, valued because of what I can get done, at least not by the measurers that count (people that I love and that love me) in the long run. All they care about is if I love them.

I do!! I do love them!!! Hooray for me!! The pressure's off!!!

Now, if I can only make a habit of THAT line of thinking...

just a couple of bits of weekend goodness

Just the other day, I got home from work and Mini Mann comes running in from the neighbors and he says, "Mom! I'm over at the neighbors' house. I'm being very good. I'm very respectful. I even prayed with them before their dinner. One thing though, I didn't know about their sign language at the end."

Yesterday afternoon, the same kid comes out back and tells me he wants to show me something. He sits down with a book and begins reading...his posture is what was the cutest part of the whole thing and I realized, he does this quite often when reading to me. He sits with a very quiet body and holds the book just to his left. He faces the pictures toward me and reads all the words from the side. Just Like His Teacher!!!! It was most adorable.

A little later, I'm folding laundry and I hear the following conversation from the other room:

W: Oh! I love his books.
H: He only wrote Put Me In The Zoo.
W: No way, man! He wrote all kinds of books! Like Cat in the Hat, One Fish Two Fish, Green Eggs and Ham, Hop on Pop. Man! I can read those by heart!!!

Good times. Good times.

I just feel like I should write

The other day, I had the awesome pleasure of talking to my mom on my drive home from work. We talked about all sorts of things, but one thing really stuck out to me. I feel that it's important enough that I go ahead and process through some of it here, where processing feelings seems to have fallen by the wayside.

She and I were talking about grief. About how difficult it still is for her to make it through periods of time since Michelle died. Sometimes, the sadness envelopes her and removes her ability to sleep, or eat, or want to just do normal things. She talked about how sometimes the sadness just swims in her head and she finds it difficult to stop thinking all sorts of things.

I was reminded of myself when she was talking. I remembered when I started this blog how I'd write and write about my sadness. I would type and think and process and cry and just get out a bunch of feelings. I told her about how writing, here, really helped me with getting out some of my feelings and moving through my grief. I told her that even though sometimes it was so hard to write, I would force myself to. I told her that those times would get out some of the truest, heart soothing thoughts. The hardest posts to write were the most healing by far.

It's been a really long time since I've just sat here and vented out feelings. When I was talking to her, I really felt whole and settled in my heart. Healed.

There are certainly lots of moments in my days that don't feel like that at all. Lots of days in my weeks that barely resemble the way I felt that night on the phone with my mom. I go through these days thinking that I've got things together, but then sometimes, out of nowhere, something is said and it hits me just right (or wrong), on a day where there's very little of me left and I realize that I'm probably not as healed up and healthy as I'd like to be.

When I spend the better part of the evening crying because I can't sort out where the anger really stems from, I'm pretty sure that I should write. Because there I'll be, sitting there, swimming in a mess of thoughts, and what do I do? Avoid. Disconnect. Grow more angry at myself for all of the things that ... Sleep.

I need to write. That's what I need to do.

What I've learned about myself while driving

The last couple of weeks, I've spent about 4 hours a day on the road, driving to and from a site where I've been providing onsite post-upgrade support. The onsite time has been intense. The drives have proven to be both exhillarating and interesting.

There are those in my circle who have expressed concern about all the driving I've been doing, but really it's been quite a joy. I've been learning all sorts of things about myself and I've had some time to talk to friends and get to know the I-75 corridor.

There are lots little conversations that I've had with myself...eerrrrr...the cars around me. Speeding, little car, single-serving friends. Oddities that I've seen.

Pretty much, it's all come to one conclusion - I need to find a word. This word would plainly describe the sense of discrimination that I apparently harbor against stupid cars. More often than not, these cars are from stupid states with strange accents (maybe I've super-imposed the accents into the conversations that I have silently with the cars around me). Also, of note, the stupid cars are generally older - though not always. Sometimes, what makes a car stupid is that there's more likely than not, some sort of q-tip driving it (see - Buick, Impala or Town Car). I feel that it's important to identify what sort of specific discrimination I harbor as a sort of punishment for being so judgemental.

I would like the record to reflect, that through the process of identifying my own personal short-coming, I actually am rather amused by myself and do not intend to cease my behavior. It's just me and my car. It's my entertainment during the long driving hours. It's actually what makes it so much fun for me.

A New Year...

It's another new year. I rang it in in the usual way. Much rest was certainly required on the 1st. I had an awesome day of resting on the couch with my girlie. The boys enjoyed the sunshine outside and rode bikes. It was an awesome day.

But there was change a'brewing...something in the air.

Several months ago, I took some pictures. I called them the befores. Today, I should be able to present the afters with very little effort. You see, in an effort to downsize and react marginally to the economic changes in our family's life, I've found a new place to live. It's an apartment just down the road a bit. A little closer into town. A lot less a month.

The only downside is that our current home needs to sublease out the remainder of my contract. I talked to my landlord and he was very understanding. He's listed the house on the website where we found it and there was to be a showing this morning.

Sweetie worked her butt off yesterday and I came home from the office and pitched right in. Not only can I now park a car in the garage, the laundry's nearly done. All the bedrooms are clean. I can't imagine that I'm about to admit to this, but with a couple of groceries in the house, I just might qualify myself as an actual, real-life grown up.

Weird. Me. A Grown Up. In Real Life!