Devouring

We all know Dooce, right? Of course we do.

Heather B. Armstrong herself has been posting some home decor and fashion style boards on her blog recently, as she puts it,  "to inspire my own creativity".

Well, how very... creative... of her.

{Um, yea, she is so effing creative, it is crazy. I am in love with her ecclectic and colorful ways. Likely because that is TOTALLY opposite of my muted and neutral ways. ::yawn:: }

FINALLY Dooce revealed that she was using Polyvore to create her style boards.

It is so incredibly paper-doll-loving-AWESOME! 

I anticipate spending many hours of the many days to come window shopping for things I will never, ever be able to afford, and when I am finished, I will have a collection of outfits whose pieces are all in one, nice concise view. Like this...

I have been saying around here and there and everywhere lately that the cupcakes and cashmere blogger chic has the life. A girl's dream. She essentially fashions ultra chic clothing in front of the camera 'all day' and then she blogs by posting those pictures. She does post some other stuff... like how to make a messy bun...  and other girlie stuff. THE LIFE, I tell you.

Anyhoo, now I can be just nothing like her on my very own blog by essentially making body-less paper dolls. I find it nothing less than entertaining.

For now.

I can't wait to window shop tomorrow!

Oh, and the word "polyvore"? Let's break it up. "Poly" means many. "Vore" means to devour and swallow. Mwahahahahahaha... Now go have some of your own Dooce-like fun at over at Polyvore!

The cRaZiEs, often misunderstood

On my blog, and in real life, I openly talk about being on my happy pills. Sometimes I make light of it, I guess in an  attempt to eliminate the stigma that surrounds 'being medicated' for anxiety or depression - in my case, it is anxiety, of the 'crazy brain' variety.

The best way to describe my non-medicated brain (and body) is this:  

Imagine everything in your brain... your thoughts, your emotions, and everything visual that you see... swirling like a tornado in one direction, with no way to stop the swirling or no way to filter what is in the tornado. Then comes the physical reaction to that, which is something that seems like a physical swirling in the opposite direction. Opposing tornadoes. From there, you should be able to figure that a body would react either by shutting down, or in my case, by going completely out of control, mentally, physically, and verbally.

Completely irrational. Out of control. And, completely out of my control. There is no way to just stop it.

As I look back, I think my crazies may have started to roll in late college/early marriage. After I gave birth to Ian, our third child, which was almost 6 years ago, the crazies definitely peaked, and I knew something had to be done.

I was a mere 20mg of happy medication away from being chill. Under control. Rational. Just 20 mg "off".

While the same triggers may prompt a response today, as I am medicated, my response is under my control.

The reason I write about this today is because of something I read this week on a blog that I follow. Motherlode posted an article written by a woman who grew up afraid of her father's rage. In response to that article, a father asked for advice for his family, as they were dealing with the rage of the mother in the family.

I am disheartened by some of the comments written in an attempt to help that father and his family. Ten years ago, my husband probably would have described me the same exact way this father described his wife. ( I don't know that he would have labeled me as verbally abusive, but I can tell you that it is a period of my life that I hope my children, especially our middle one, never remember. )

20mg of a drug "off". That's all I was.

Through this Motherlode article and its comments, this mother and wife has now been labeled as a bad, non-loving, abusive parent who should have her children taken away from her. I just keep thinking, what if the husband internalizes all of these 'suggestions' and takes an extreme action? I am not sure that she deserves that.

I do not ever want to make light of an abusive situation, and I know there are hundreds of thousands, if not millions, out there who have been the victim of verbally or physically abusive parents or significant others.  And, there is a distinct difference between someone who is abusive out of control issues versus someone who is unstable because of a chemical imbalance. Both could cause harm, physical or emotional. I know that.

However, in my non-medical-degreed opinion, it would seem to be wise to always remember that there could be opposing tornadoes in a brain and body, and as horrible as it is to be on the receiving end of uncontrollable behavior, it is just as scary to be the one out of control with the 'crazy' brain.

If you are someone or knows someone who sounds like me, or the wife in the blog article, visit your doctor or recommend they visit theirs. Forget about the stigma. I cannot believe I did not call my doctor sooner.

When I called my doctor's office, I recall thinking, um... when they ask for the reason for the visit, what do I say? Would you rather say, "My hemorrhoids are acting up." or "I need to talk to the doctor about my anxiety."? Yeah. I vote for anxiety. It may not be anxiety,  but that's a nice term that the office scheduler can write down.

I have to tell you that when I got to the doctor, who is a gorgeous, chill Mom in her 40s, all I had to say was, "The only way to describe was is going on is crazy brain."  Do you know that my hot doctor also has crazy brain and knew just what I was talking about? True. I didn't have to say another word.

20mg a day later and crazy brain gone. Completely.

One last point before I put this topic to bed for the day: If you do not understand crazy brain or understand why someone cannot just 'will' it away or get things under control, that merely means you do not understand it.

It does not mean that medication or medical/psychological intervention isn't needed. I am not saying in all cases it is, but it may be.

You can't will away grey hair, high cholesterol, low bone density, low thyroid hormone, or a seasonal allergy... the list could go on and on.

While some things are mind over matter, I have not found crazy brain to be one of them.

When tested, I *fail*

Today, yet another humungous expense came in for the White family. I am seriously so tired of being an adult, I could puke. Why our children trust us to care for them, I do not know. I feel no more responsible today than I did when I was 19. Can I get an AMEN?

{If you partake in that AMEN, you better be talking about you and not me.}

The outgoing cash (or shall I say, the increasing amount now on our credit card) has me a real bitch tonight. I am spittin' mad { for the moment } that I cut my time at work in half back in January, which cut my salary in half. Pissed that we joined that pretentious county club { until I am at the pool tomorrow }. And I am fuming that a beat up sucky old Mercedes is in our possession on purpose when *we* should be driving a 10-year old Ford. Stupid Mercedes. { I will always hate you. }

Tonight, you are the cause of my bitchiness. I have had a dry spell, so I guess it was time. Sucks for you.

I announced tonight that we are on a spending freeze. No. More. Crap. That includes beer. { I hope I know what I am doing. Thank goodness there is a supply in the basement. But, Audrey is having an overnight tonight, so you never know how long that stash will last. }

Seriously no more than 30 minutes after the spending freeze was instituted, the sweetest door-to-door sales girl makes herself at home. In my shower. Yes, she did. I have pictures. Next post, I promise.

I was being tested by the big guy upstairs. I just know it. 

Shaniqua - that is what we call her - was selling a cleaning product called "Advanage". No, not "Advantage". That has a 'T' and Advanage does not.

However, whoever printed up their marketing materials, must have thought the website needed a 'T', because it clearly had the website listed as tadvanagesales.com, and Shaniqua had to cross out the T at the front of the web address before she handed us the marketing materials.

She cleaned the garage floor. Took out rust. She grabbed Matt' show and made his soles white again.

She wanted to do a number on the Mercedes in our garage. But, it isn't ours. It's a loaner. Go figure.

Shaniqua went into our shower. It is a problem area for my OCD tendencies. I was less than impressed.

But the rust. The shoe. Advanage repels finger prints. Plus, it is approved by every acronym known to man. And, Shaniqua can raddle every single one of them off. In one breath. All 4 ft. 6 inches of her. She would have driven my Dad crazy with how fast she talked.

She licked the solution off the inside tube of the sprayer. Apparently, it is so safe, you can season your salads with it.

Okay, okay, WE BOUGHT IT. A bottle. We spend $40 on a bottle of cleaning product. But, it lasts forever. Shaniqua told us so.

Plus, she gets commission. We are helping the youth of America, people. Think of the youth.

There you have it. When tested, I fail. Or, I am a sucker. Or both.

{ Since I am helping the youth, it is at least a tax write off? }

What do loneliness, Mandy, staples and Rutherford B. Hayes have in common?

Matt has been gone all day. He left before I woke up, and he won't be home until tomorrow sometime.

I know some of you would kill to send your husband off for any number of days... and likewise, husbands, I am sure you would do whatever you could to also become invisible for a while.

My kids were also gone most of the day, and I have been... oh, so lonely. How stupid is that?

The highlight of my day was buying a new $10 toaster from Walmart. (Yes, Mom, buy cheap, buy twice. We know.)  I didn't even get to go to the pool today. :::violins:::

So then I got to thinking about my loneliness. I posted this as my Facebook status. 

Yep, that's what I would do when my Mom and Dad went "out" - which was, um, every weekend - and, a babysitter would come stay with us while they were out. I would lay on the floor of our dining room, snuggling with the yellow record player (it was completely rad), replaying 'Mandy'.

"You came and you gave without taking. Oh, I sent you away, oh Mandy." 

I can hardly listen to the song today without choking up.

Well, THAT got me to thinking about the other completely stupid, quirky things I did as a child. Such as...

I used to sit in our stairway going up to the second floor... and staple. my. thumbs.

WHAT  is that about? Who the hell knows?!  And, how the actual idea came to me to try it, I will never know. But, I did it. Took the stapler and wham! into the pads of my thumbs. I would then pull them out and watch it bleed. Repeat.

I am telling you that I would be a therapist's jackpot!

I grew up in the hometown of Rutherford B. Hayes... the um... something-something President of the US. The grounds with his home and presidential museum is called Spiegal Grove, and it was within walking distance of our house. Spiegal Grove is surrounded with a black wrought iron fence.

My cousin, Amy, and I would jump the iron fence right in the middle of a hill. We would lay in the street just outside the fence - a relatively busy street back in the day - and see how could get the furthest in the reciting of the ABCs before a car came, to roll over us and flatten us like a pancake.

The stupidity just gets worse the older I got.

Peach schnopps. We used to be good friends. In high school, 4 of us - 2 boys and 2 girls - decided to buy two bottles, visit a parking lot before school (it happened to be the house of Catholic nuns), and see who could drink more out of the bottle, boys or girls.

There are many more stories along those lines, and they only get worse, but you get the point.

I'm standing on the edge of time

I walked away when love was mine
Caught up in a world of uphill climbing
The tears are in my mind
And nothing is rhyming, oh Mandy...

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If you feel sorry for me, click here: 

Being unsocial in a social world

I had a friend and neighbor email me today. She had stumbled across my blog and she was commenting on the 'about me' page.

This partial paragraph resonated with her...

Much to everyone's surprise (I haven't met one person who agrees), I am a social introvert, and I would prefer to stay at home rather than interact with those outside of these walls.

In our emails back and forth, we realized that when it comes to being social, we are very much alike. We are not social, or we prefer not to be, but our husbands are.

My friend asked me how Matt and I handle the dochotomy.

I'll get to that, but I wanted to first tell you about my unsocial ways.  I know some of you think I am down right lying. You have seen me at Halloween parties, school events, and I may have possibly chatted your ear off even today.

It is like I am social introvert trapped in an extrovert's body... or is it a social extrovert trapped in an introvert's body... whoa... slow this train down. 

Here is how Matt describes it: You hate [it]. You would rather not do [it]. But, when you do, you have a great time. And then you act like new people you have met are your besties. (He used the word 'besties', not me.)

I have always preferred to be a homebody. If I had the choice (I shall use that term loosely), I wouldn't go anywhere or meet anyone new. There would be no barbeques, New Year's parties, movie nights, school functions or neighborhood gatherings.

In college, I was the dork at the library on a Thursday, Friday AND Saturday night. Sssshhhh... there is no socializing in the library. Quiet time.

I like everything in my life to be planned and orderly. So, unplanned social time especially freaks me out.

(I realize that if you are local to me, I just have likely alienated myself from you, and I will never get invited anywhere, ever again, but keep the invites coming... I am a work in progress!) 

Maybe it is a fear of the unknown (i.e. meeting someone new, having to strike up conversation, making an ass of myself - which I have been known to do - etc.). Or possibly just preferring the path of least resistance (i.e. not having to get 'ready', line up babysitting, figure out logistics, be on someone else's time schedule, not making an ass of myself, etc.). 

To someone naturally social, those things may seem flat out crazy and difficult to understand. But for me, and many others, they are real and can be socially debilitating.

Matt, for example, can talk to anyone, anywhere... and get a business deal out of it, plus two tickets to a basketball game and free drinks. On the contrary, networking kills me. Yet, by job title, I am in sales.

How can we be so different? Because we are. And, here is how we deal with it.

1. Compromise, compromise, compromise.

Typically, it is Matt that sets our social schedule (or, as it is pretty clear here, we wouldn't have one at all). Which is fine, in most cases, but it won't work if we both aren't flexible. For example, he may decide that we are going to do something, but I decide how long we will be doing it. Or, I may go all crazy and accept an invitation to a fundraiser when he least expects it.

2. Be social, but not too social.

Matt knows that in most social settings, he cannot just leave me to fend for myself. I follow him like a good obedient dog, do a lot of head nodding and smiling to make it seem like I am in the conversation... when I am really counting down the minutes until we can head out. (If ever runs for public office, I am dead meat.)

I also know my social limits. Take volunteering at the kids' school, for example. No committee based volunteering, because chit-chat drives me nutso and I am a control freak. But, I will give as much time as you need, I will bake fifty dozen cookies, and I can sit with kids sewing sock puppets for as long as you need me.

3. Medication.

I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV. But sometimes I like to make you think I'm one. I have no clue what a real doctor would tell you about social anxiety, but in my experience, medication has worked wonders. On many different levels. And, it beats becoming dependent on alcohol to get you through social situations. Although, alcohol helps, too. Who am I trying to kid? Okay, maybe talk to your doctor. Just a thought.

{ Seriously, as I am typing this, I get an email from Matt asking if we can do a night out this weekend with his partner at CutOutsideTheLine.com and his wife. Both are super cool... and she is just like me when it comes to being social... so, we likely won't be having dinner with them this weekend. Haha! }

4. Include family.

In my case, I am perfectly comfortable around my family, and if you are naturally unsocial, you may be, too. Well, not around MY family... they are cRaZy and would scare you to death... but you are likely comfortable around YOUR family. When your significant other is feeling the need to be social, try scheduling something with family (or anyone else in your comfort zone). Getting out and being social doesn't necessarily mean meeting new people... at least not all of the time.

5. Live in the moment.

Easier said than done, right? I have found that when I let my guard down and actually just live life, instead of worrying about what is coming next, I can have a darn good, non-anxiety-filled time. I don't HAVE to be in bed at nine o'clock every night, even on New Year's Eve... but I prefer to. When I look back, if I hadn't taken a chance or two (or fifteen hundred) at doing things or going places, I wouldn't have met some awesome people along the way.

6. Lower your standards.

My friend and I both confirmed today that, often times, we don't want to be social in our own homes because of our OCD/perfectionist tendencies. The house isn't clean. We don't have the right kind of food. They will bring their kids and ick! kids are just gross and make a mess.  Chaos. Oh, the chaos that goes along with entertaining.

Does it really matter? Well, to us, the non-social, perfectionists,  it does. But no, not in the bigger scheme of things. Too bad we aren't wired to think that way.

As I told my friend today, I think with age and as the kids grow, and as life just gets crazier, we need to lower our standards and expectations. Things will never be perfect, and that is okay.

Easy for me to say, harder for me to do. 

I am now going to crawl into my hole and let you tell me how crazy I am... and, then tell me that I am. not. a. social. introvert. G' head. Have at it.

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Are you also a self-proclaimed social introvert? Is your significant other? How do you handle it?  

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Puh-leeeeeeeezzzz!  Don't send me back to #14! Just a quick click on the brown bar is all it takes! Mwah! Thanks for your votes! I'll buy you a beer next time I am out being social. Deal? Deal.

Whacked & frazzled

I've got it pretty easy. I work two full days a week in the office, and then a few hours here and there out of the office. That is a good amount of time not working out of the house.

My children are relatively self-sufficient. I don't have to change diapers, feed them in the true sense of the word, or help them get dressed (most days).

My husband works out of the house, so we see each other... a lot. He is also around to help out with carpooling or watching the boys while I am carpooling or whatever. He's a dream.

My house is clean, but not clean, clean. Those of you that have been in my house think it is clean, clean. But it isn't. Really.

But for some reason, and call it coincidence as we approach the Mother's Day holiday, I am a mentally frazzled mess.

I am all caught up with 'life'. But, I am not caught up with my cleaning, and that drives me bonkers. It is nuts really.

My house is presently not the cleanest house on the block. Neither is my garage. And, if you know me, that is huge. It is so huge, that is has me immobilized.

I feel so overwhelmed with the woodwork, the spots on the carpet, the dog foot prints in the bedroom, the whatever it is all over my walls, the fingerprints all over, well, everything, the mud in the garage, etc. that I have just decided it is too much for me to do.

While I have chosen to 'ignore it'... it is all I can think about. It is as though I am willing the house cleaning fairy to come while I am out of town this weekend.

Here is the thing, I know that my irrational and unnecessary thoughts are just that. My house was almost perfectly clean a couple weeks ago, but then, in my mind, it has gone down hill in a snap.

There are people out there in my life that are literally changing the world... and I am worried about my darn woodwork?!? I get how silly it is. If I could only turn it 'off'.  

For the men reading this, 'the crazies', as I like to call them, are R.E.A.L. Bonfide crazies. And, if you feel the crazies coming on with the woman in your life, I suggest you just do what she says. Not. Kidding.

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So, tell me, what frazzles you, unnecessarily?

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Don't forget to vote today! Thanks for keeping me at #13, but we have a lot of work to do to get to #12! Clickety-click does the trick!

My nights, Part 2

Remember how I wrote about my horrible night sweats? I had many of you write to me to tell me that you, too, have them... and there was a common thread...

Nope, not our age. But the happy pill you and I are taking... Zoloft.

In the past, my family physician always thought Zoloft could no way be causing my night sweats because I am on such a low dose. (Yes, I am.) But this time, I flat out told her to write me a Rx for something else that would make me happy (and most importantly, keep me happy).

It worked.

I still am happy. I still have very mild night sweats. But, I am not soaked, and it doesn't happen every night anymore.

If you happen to be one of those that emailed or DM'd me on Facebook, and you, too, are on Zoloft, or any seratonin-uptake drug, try switching to see what happens. My physician said that there isn't one that definitely doesn't cause them, and it is all done patient-by-patient, drug-by-drug. Good luck!

Sanity Prep for Election Season 2012

Most of the time, it is pretty awesome to be me. Other times, it just sucks.

My brain works like none other that I know, but that is just because you all don't purge your brain publicly like I do. I know you are out there, closet crazy brain. Just like me.

For some reason, over the past three years - yes, THREE years! - the issues of abortion and the death penalty have been internally driving me bonkers. It is an internal debate, and just so I can bring some clarity to it, I am going to put my thoughts and feelings into words, in this blog, pre-election season. Now. For sanity's sake.

I almost went crazy last election season for a variety of reasons... I will spare you the details... but seriously, at times, I thought I was losing my mind because of the evilness of the political process and really, the internal ugliness of people - white, yellow, black, Christian, Jew, Atheist, Muslim... me included... you get the point.

For background sake, I am morally conservative, yet politically liberal. I don't fit a political group, and even as a Christian, I find myself questioning mainstream Christianity often these days when things just don't feel right. It isn't that I want to be a nonconformist. I have just personally experienced one too many 'leaders' leading a certain direction, in the name of God, politically and/or religiously, for their own aspirations and gain. It is very transparent, sad and incredibly troubling. 

I am pro-life, anti-abortion. I am anti-death penalty. I have always been pro-life, as it refers to abortion. But, there was a time that I didn't really give much thought to the death penalty (I just assumed that it was the way to go), because it really wasn't something I would ever need to ponder. Or so I thought.

I do not know anyone on death row. But, my sisters do. Yes, both of them. It just happens to be the same man that they know. I don't need to get into the details, but when it becomes personal, you tend to think about something like the government taking the life of someone, even someone who has committed a heinous crime, a bit more. Yes, you think about it more emotionally, not unlike the way you would think of someone taking the life of an unborn child.

Here is where my head starts to swirl.

Raise your hand if you think abortion is murder.

Raise your hand if you believe in the death penalty (which, of course, can be the sentence for murder, especially if the accused is thought to possess the ability to kill again.)

In your perfect world, should all women who have had abortions, regardless of their reason(s), be sentenced to the death penalty? After all, if you are against abortion, you think abortion is murder. Right? Although I do not have any stats to support this theory, I doubt that there is something magical that happens once a woman has had an abortion once, which precludes her from having another...and another... and another... without a serious transformation of her heart.

I know it all comes down to legislation, but really? If abortion was illegal, would you support the death penalty for a woman that had an illegal abortion? What about your best friend who had an abortion? Or your daughter? After all, what is worse that taking the life of an unborn child? Certainly worse than the friend on death row, who was completely whacked out on drugs, and took the life of a store clerk he was robbing, when he was barely an adult... right? Wrong.

Phew. Okay. I am settling down. Breathing... breathing... am I completely confusing you? See, this is why I need to sort it in real life, because my brain goes a mile a millisecond with these issues.

In my mind, abortion and capital punishment both equal murder. I don't care who is President or which party has the political power. Strip it down, and it is very difficult for me to see the difference in the two.  

Instead of trying to fix it, we just get rid of it...?

" It " being the unborn human or the situation the unborn baby will create if born... or " it " being the troubled human who committed an awful crime(s).

We just get rid of them? Say whaaa?

Last election season when I was getting the crazies over the debates of abortion and capital punishment, a pastor at our church had told me to be careful, because there was biblical evidence that supported the death penalty. He is the theologian, not me; however, the evidence wasn't enough to convince me (not that he was trying to convince me... he was just giving me both sides of the coin). It all sounded smart, but it still didn't feel right right.

I know it cannot be as simple as this... or can it?... the mercy of Jesus, shown in the Bible over and over again to all makes and models of sinners, wasn't something that had to be earned - it was freely given by Jesus. Yes, while you could argue that capital punishment is a means to remove threats to our society, I am not really confident that is the road Jesus wants us to take ... versus, say, life in prison with the opportunity to rehab the body and mind, and transform the heart. 

I don't know much about anything, as I have said over and over again on this blog, but why is it that Jesus didn't and doesn't discriminate the outpouring of the gifts of mercy and grace, yet, we feel we have the right to?

As a Christian, I don't get it. And, I likely never will. But, there. It is on the internets now, and the brain is purged. I can now go walk my dog with a less clogged brain. 

Housekeeping items --- that's right --- time to VOTE (once a day)!  

And, here, too, once a day! I know, I am a pain in the butt... tell me something I don't know!

Uncle Phillip

This one is for all of the Moms out there... if you are a Dad, I have given you fair warning.

Back in the day, my Mom never really talked about "those things" with me and my siblings. We went to a Catholic school, and we watched a movie at school and recieved a 'gift' at the end, which consisted of some maxi pads, panty liners, a calendar and a nice book to read.

That was my education on the birds and the bees and menstruation.  

You think I am kidding, but I am not.

I would hide in my closet with my 'goods'... and try to figure it all out on my own. Word on the street is that my younger sister would also hide in my closet and steals my goods because she was too embarrassed to tell our Mom that she started her period.

I am sure it was the generation, but for some reason, our bodies and menses were topics of shame in our house. They were never spoken of, and if we did say something like "Mike's armpit hair reminds me of public hair," we were scolded.

Yes, I was the one who let that one slip out for God and everyone else in the house to hear. Come on, he was the only boy with three sisters. He deserved it.

So now it is my turn to educate. I love when it is my turn to do things.

Uncle Phillip (the name given to a certain twelve year old's period) has visited us for the past couple of months. I know this topic is likely making some of you uncomfortable, but really, it should not because any healthy teenage girl will have this happen. It has been happening for thousands of years, and believe it or not, it still happens today. Crazy, I know.

This past week, she asked me to pick her up some pads. Since track, soccer and summer are just around the corner, I asked, in a text, of course, because I was already at the store, if she would just like me to show her how to use a... wait for it... tampon. 

And no, when you use a tampon, you have not given up your virginity. Even back in the ol' days. True.

This is where I smile when I acknowledge that Audrey is sooooooo different than I was at her age.

Audrey texted me back, "Um... sure."

When I get home, her friend is with her at our house. At the kitchen table, I taught them how to do all of the sweet things you do with a tampon. The word vagina was used repeatedly. They asked questions and I gave answers, and we all did so without being embarrassed. I don't even think their faces turned red.

Her friend was seriously not buying into the idea of tampons until she absolutely HAD to... but Audrey was all like, "Ok, I am going to go put it in."

And, that was that. Off she went.

I sometimes talk too open with or in front of my kids about some topics (according to Matt), but I don't think menses and vaginas should be two of them. Show respect to your body and the God that created it, but don't become ashamed of it.

If you happen to hear my five year old son talk about vaginas... who has them... who doesn't... and where a tampon goes... you know why.

All in a Saturday

Last week, I shared my wish list for some decorating re-dos I am working on. Since then, I had found some lamps and a starburst mirror. I ordered both online.

Yesterday, I recieved word that the starburst mirror order was cancelled. And then, the lamps came, and they were not exactly what I was hoping for.

My budding interior designer, Isaac, and I decided to head to a second hand furniture store in the area that I had never been to. My favorite one, Jade Grace, didn't have any of the items I was looking for.  I was at least hoping to find the dresser I need, and then maybe a vintage starburst/sunburst mirror.

At the second hand store, I did find an antique dresser but it had a stained finish, of course, which meant I would have to do some DIY magic on it... and that scared me, although the price was perfect. I also could have bought a chair (or four) for my bedroom that I have also been looking for, but they were all sold. Just my luck.

Isaac and I headed to TJMaxx, my second home these days, and I ended up buying a chair that I have had my eye on for a few weeks. It was marked down, so the time was right!

(Side note: I was thinking of painting this table, but I have decided not to. I am afraid of screwing it up.)

Pier One was right down the way from TJMaxx, so we figured we would pop in there to see if there was anything special that would catch my eye... um... like the whole store! Dangerous place. Isaac even said, in all of his wisdom, "I would love to work here, but I couldn't because I would want it all and I know I couldn't have it." As the words were flowing from his mouth, I was thinking, "DISCOUNTS, BABY! DISCOUNTS!"

No starburst or sunburst, but I did end up buying those paper lanterns to hang from the ceiling at Pier One. 

The original starburst that I had ordered was from Kohl's. At this point, my wise son said, "Can't we just GO TO Kohl's to get the one you ordered?"  Der. Well, of course we could try, but I said that with much doubt in my voice.

HOLLAR! FIFTY PERCENT OFF! At my Kohl's. Isaac is so stinkin' smart. Why did I not think of that 10 internet-searching-hours ago?

I loves it. Plus, I think the lamps we have are actually perfect.

So the green, blass retro ones have found a home in the basement store room. I paid shipping for them, and for that reason only, I will keep them for something later... like when we re-do Audrey's room for her thirteenth birthday this summer. I hope she likes green. 'Cause that, they are.

Rug and dresser are all I need for the bedroom. Oh, and I have decided I may need a little ladder/tilted bookshelf thing. Matt can thank Pier One for that.

My crazies, Part 328

I don't know how or why it happens, and thankfully, it only happens a couple times a year... okay, maybe a couple times more than that... but, when I get on a re-decorating kick, it drives me insane until it is complete - and perfect.  I will blame it on my A.D.D. or this sudden influx of 'free' time on my hands or... let's face it Mom, genetics.

I woke up this past Saturday determined to find new window coverings for our bedroom. The day ended in frustration... not because I actually purchased new curtains, but more so, because deep down, I knew they were, oh. so. wrong.

Yet, I let Matt hang them last night.

I tossed and turned all night with those curtains looming in the dark. Stupid curtains stop staring at me!

You know what happens next. I spent today looking for replacement curtains for the replacement curtains. I found them, of course, which would have been easy to do the first time had I not been haunted with the visions of DIY-ers on the internet who make all of their crap for less than what I paid for a sweet skirt at Goodwill this morning.

Matt, love of my life, close your eyes.

Today, I over-spent on my lovely white, airy curtains that will transform my sanctuary in to one only found in a magazine.

Matt, you can open your eyes now.

Buy cheap, buy twice.
-Ruthann Mayle Ruggiero

This quote of my mother also haunts me, thank you very much. Had I held true to this mantra, I would have spent much less time and money.

After being up all night long with those completely inappropriate curtains staring at me, other current decorating quandries bounced around in my brain. Literally... bounced in my brain... like a pinball game.

So I could focus on the kids coming in and out of the bedroom as we all woke up this fine President's Day morning, I had to purge my brain. I pulled out a piece of paper from my nightstand and made THE LIST.

Black bench - basement
Drum shade - kitchen

Zebra rug

Chest/trunk - den

White long/short dresser

Parsons chair for desk - bedroom

2 lamps, retro - bedroom

1 desk lamp - bedroom

Starburst mirror - bedroom

Rug  bedroom

Paint for touch ups - basement, master

When Matt found this list, he said, "Please tell me this is just a 'wish list'?"  Emphasis on WISH LIST.

You see, in the list, I have only actually found TWO of items. Neither of which I think I should spend money on.

Oh well, the new curtains are hung, but I still may not sleep because they need to be hung higher. It may be a two-pill kind of night.

Two Down... Many More To Go

Well, I am almost two weeks in to my 'part time' schedule at work, and many of you have asked how it is going so I shall share.

As expected, I don't have much to do. All kids are are of the house by 8:45am, and the first one doesn't get back home until 3:30pm. As you can see, I have much time to kill.

The past two weeks have felt like two months, and that is not a bad thing. I am ON TOP of it all. There is no task left undone. No dog left unwalked. No drawer left unorganized. No food item left unpurchased. No piece of clothing left unwashed. The house even has splashes of Valentine's Day hearts. I have read 2 1/2 books, and I am completely caught up on my DVR'ed shows. My Google Reader is fully read. Plus, all of my 'work' work is done. I almost brought home a dog or two. I haven't given up on that yet.

We have eaten home cooked meals every single day, and have likely saved quite a bit of dough because of that... and less miles on the van. I think I have only shopped a couple of times for non-food items... Lunches are made the night before. No rushing around in the morning.

I have even actually taken time to eat breakfast and/or lunch. Huh? Wha? Yes, I have taken a moment or two to prepare my own meal - just for me - and I sit and eat it, often times, while catching up on a TV show. You may find that odd, but I never, ever had it in me to do that before. In fact, I have often told Matt he is inefficient because he does all of this lunch time prep while working from home... I now realize that I may have self-inflicted A.D.D. Likely so.

I would have thought that my tolerance for my work life would have increased with my limited time in the office; however, that is not the case. I won't even get into it, but let me tell you that in the past few days, either out of a lack of patience or my very hot temper, one of my least flattering moments occurred in the office. I snapped.

I am sleeping good. Not worrying about money. I feel rested and content. But a smidgen bored? Maybe this is just normal. Maybe this is what experiencing life is all about. Chillin' out. Go figure. I do believe I may have been over-scheduled all of this time. Hmmph.

I have been looking ahead to summer. Three kids home every day, all summer long. God, help me.

My nights

We are gonna girl-talk about sweating. At night. While sleeping. AKA nightsweats.

If you have a penis, you may want to close this sucker up right now. 'Cause it ain't pretty or sexy.

Am I the only 38 year old in the world who wakes up from terribly vivid dreams, shivering? Why would I be shivering, you ask? Because the gallons of sweat that my body has produced has cooled my body temperature to an uncomfortable, wet 85 degrees.

If you are a 'middle aged' woman (however, I am NOT middle aged, thank you very much) and have not experienced this wonderful hormonal transition yet, you are in for a grand treat.

Essentially, for about two weeks before 'that time of the month' (however, lately it has been for a solid month, every night), I wake up about 4:00AM, after having very odd dreams. If I have been able to sleep fully clothed that night (which is not my preference), I wake up with my clothes drenched. Soaking. If I was not able to sleep with pajama pants or sweats, I wake up in a pool of sweat, such as last night. 

If this hasn't happened to you, you cannot comprehend the amount of fluid that is possible of escaping your body. Just wait.

Here are some stats for you to ponder. Our last child was born in 2005. Have been off birth control since 2004. Night sweats started sometime in 2008, when I was 35 or 36ish. Pre-menopausal symptoms can go on for 10 years for some people. My periods also can last anywhere from 7 to 14 days.

My sweats always coincide with  dream. And, the dream typically involves one of these events: 1) Being emotionally or physically abandoned by my husband (he pays dearly for this the following day), 2) Not being able to physically get where it is I am going either because I am lost, confused, or do not have the resources, such as say, a code to get me through a door, or 3) Trying to move via walking or running, but I stay in the same place. (For your information, I am aware of my abandonment issues, that I conclude to be a direct result of two relationships - one from high school and one that ended in college before I met my sweet husband.)

But what comes first? The dreams or the nightsweats? The age-old question of the chicken or the egg.

I have asked three doctors about my nightsweats, which do not seem right at my age. Two of them have been female, each of them right about my age, and they both have looked at me like it is the oddest thing they have heard of. The male ob/gyn just shrugged his shoulders, of course... kind of when I told him I was concerned we weren't getting pregnant (with #2) after years of trying, and he just said, "So do it like rabbits and stop worrying." 

The last doctor put me back on birth control hoping the hormones would help. One month down, and no help at all with the sweats. We shall give it two more months before I give up.

Am I the only one? Does anyone have any suggestions for me (that do not involve herbs, because they don't work either)? Or is it a lost cause and I wait it out?

Hello, hello 2011!

Still sitting here blogging on New Year's Eve, watching 50 Most Insane Celebrity Oops on E!  I am living the life, I tell ya.

As with every year, peeps are posting their New Year's Resolutions in bloggeritaville. I got nothing, because as I told you a couple years ago, I don't do resolutions.

All in all, I am looking forward to 2011. Next week begins a new kind of lifestyle for me.  I am really uneasy about my new schedule or lack thereof. You may not get this, and if you work outside of the home full time in addition to being a mom full time, you may be calling me crazy right now because most moms would kill for the deal I have negotiated.  I can understand that.

But understand this...

I was created to do. To go. I don't do 'idle' well. I don't relax. Like never. I can't even sit through a two-hour movie. I am not spontaneous, although it sounds very intriguing. I am everything I wish I wasn't in the 'driven' department.

I recall very vividly asking my older, more mature cousin and an empty nester who never worked outside of the home, what she did all day. I was 26 years old and had only entered the workforce a few years earlier. She looked back at me like I had three heads, and I could tell she was insulted, which wasn't my intention. Even then, I could not fathom what I would do with my time without full-time-outside-of-the-home-work.

Don't believe me? In the past couple weeks, when I could have taken time off, I didn't because we didn't have anything scheduled. What ever would I have done with my time?

THIS is what I do! I organize crap. And then re-organize it. Make it look pretty.

I had to space out my drawer organizing over a week just so no one would recognize that I was doing it before I went part time. Well, that didn't work. Matt has reminded me repeatedly in the past week that I won't have a thing to do beginning next week. Thanks Matt. Just what I need to hear, honey.

With my new schedule, I will be helping Matt with some of his work load. He has much busyness that mucks up his schedule (and to be quite honest, his inefficiencies drive me bonkers!). The other day, during a freak out moment when I was considerably anxious about my lack of schedule, I told him that he needed to weekly give me a to do list for the entire week. He replied, "You can't get it all done right away and then ask me for more to do when you are done." 

As I type this post, it is driving me bonkers that there is an email from Matt in my Inbox with an "assignment" and I have not done it yet. He just sent it this morning.

I think for the first time in forever, I don't feel like I have something driving me. I successfully adjusted my schedule to allow for doing more of what I love... but, I have no idea what I love to do! I don't feel like there is something that gets me out of bed in the morning (other than my three four five little darlings). I am not feeling passionate about anything right now.

Am I the only one? Is there anyone out there that can sympathize with me? Is it just my mid-life crisis or do I just need to up my Zoloft prescription?

I so look forward to summertime because THEN... THEN, the sun will be shining and I will have time to do what I love. Sit in the sunshine. THIS I know and THIS I love.

Until then, in 2011 (and, let's be honest, likely within the first week of the new year) I will learn how to use my camera.... and, not on the "Auto" function.  Also in the next week, I will be hanging some new curtains, trying to add some pizzaz to our builder bathroom, and... of course, doing that assignment in my Inbox from Matt.

I CANNOT TAKE IT ANYMORE!

Can we all just make a promise to try... really try... to get this right? It is becoming maddening. It's okay. I may or may not have mentioned this before, but even Gwyneth Paltrow gets it wrong sometimes, too.

This article was originally published at Foldedspace on 14 September 2006, but I think it needs a re-post, don't you?
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Listen people, this is easy: you do not always use the word "I" when speaking of yourself and another person.

I'm going to be called a grammar Nazi for devoting an entire weblog entry to this, but it's driving me crazy. Over the past week I've seen this error a dozen times, and from smart people who should know better.

What am I talking about? We're taught from a young age that it's polite to say:

Jane and I are going to the store.

That's well and good for the nominative case, when you and Jane are the subjects of the sentence. But it does not work if you and Jane are the objects of the sentence. This sentence is an abomination:

The man gave ice cream to Jane and I.

This is WRONG, and it hurts my brain. It's like fingernails on a chalkboard. I'm serious. It drives me insane. Would you say this?

The man gave ice cream to I.

Of course not! Politeness does not take precedence over grammar. The proper sentence in this case is:

The man gave ice cream to me.

And if you're talking about yourself and another person, then the proper form is:

The man gave ice cream to Jane and me.

I know that sounds wrong, but it's better than "Jane and I". Far better. And if you really want it to sound better, then ditch your notions of the polite and say:

The man gave ice cream to me and Jane.

However, the real answer to your dilemma is to use the handy clear and concise first-person plural.

The man gave ice cream to us.

Isn't that nice?

Are you confused? Here's an easy way to tell whether you should use "Jane and I" or "Jane and me". Ask yourself: if this sentence were only about me, which would I use, "I" or "me"? Use the same pronoun when talking about yourself and another person. Seriously. That's the rule.

You make Kris and I weep when you do this.
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"Don't Worry..."

" ... I will clean all of this up. "

That is what Matt told me at 9:00pm on Thursday night as he was trying to figure out his new video camera, which he needs for some live streaming of hairdressers at an event in January in Dallas. He knew I would be on the verge of a heart attack seeing the technological mess he was creating.

I wish he could use all of this love for hairdressing to actually learn how to dress hair. Would save us thousands!

Speaking of hair... I emailed this hot pic of Kate Gosselin to my hairdresser this week. LOVE her cut... and, she is looking fab... let's admit it. She is one of my girl crushes (yes, I have a couple), although she is a total fake. Blah, blah, blah... I know you love to hate her. Don't care. Just like I don't care if you hate Oprah. Or Obama.

Which road did I take?

Last week, I posted about a crossroads in my life. 

Matt and I talked about it (again) at great length, and I decided to ask to cut my hours to 20 at my current employer, moving ahead in 2011.  The rest of my time would be filled with kids, working with Matt over at JoltCMS, and all of the other extracurriculars that I seem to fill my time with.

The owner of our company has always been so awesome when it comes to flexibility. When my kids started school and someone needed to be there to meet them at home after school, he agreed to let me scoot out at 3:00pm. One year, when our financial situation didn't allow raises, I asked if I could take Fridays "off" instead. He agreed. I have been very, very blessed. And this time is no different.

He told me that if this was something I wanted to do, who was he to stand in my way. As long as things didn't suffer at the company, he was game.

Of course, when you go from full-time to part-time status, there are some major benefits lost. Matt and I knew that, and it will all work out. It always does.

And, this time, it actually feels good to be the one who is choosing the path. Well, sort of... the story may not be quite over.

Stay tuned!

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