Thanks for sticking with me...and Merry Christmas to all three of my blog readers! LOL
May God Bless your new year immensely with love, laughter, and LIFE!
The Merry Maid
Friday, December 25, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
A gynecologist and a red head walk into a bar, I mean Costco....
I am standing in line...with my gigantic cart, at Costco...in the photo center. When a lady politely asks me...are you in line? I smile and say yes I am.
She steps in front of me anyway.
Same line, 2 seconds later. A Fred Mertz look alike (probably somebody's near retirement aged gynecologist...sorry, that is just what he looked like) walks up and says, "Are you in line?"
Same smile, same answer. Yes, I am.
He, too, steps right in front of me.
I laugh. Say audibly, "Wow."
And nothing.
Next, a blonde lady (no this isn't going to be a blonde joke)...decides to ask the same question.
So, I pulled out my taser. Kidding.
This time...sprinkling magic fairy dust...she heard me. "Yes, I am in line."
I then did what all offended shoppers do...
"Funny, those two people right there asked me if I was in line too, but they jumped in front of me anyway."
And then, I fell in love with the blonde.
"Unreal. Some people are just so inconsiderate! She probably wanted to get out of here in a hurry because that is her gynecologist and they both know that she has a flaming case of herpes."
Mwahhahahahahahahah!!!!
(I think I may have peed my pants I laughed so hard.)
I am still wondering if they heard her...and sadly, I can't get the Gynecologist/Woman dressed for a Pap Smear image out of my head. Wow.
And that, my friends, is the highlight of my holiday season thus far!
Merry Christmas!
The soon to be "Poise" pad wearing Maid. :)
She steps in front of me anyway.
Same line, 2 seconds later. A Fred Mertz look alike (probably somebody's near retirement aged gynecologist...sorry, that is just what he looked like) walks up and says, "Are you in line?"
Same smile, same answer. Yes, I am.
He, too, steps right in front of me.
I laugh. Say audibly, "Wow."
And nothing.
Next, a blonde lady (no this isn't going to be a blonde joke)...decides to ask the same question.
So, I pulled out my taser. Kidding.
This time...sprinkling magic fairy dust...she heard me. "Yes, I am in line."
I then did what all offended shoppers do...
"Funny, those two people right there asked me if I was in line too, but they jumped in front of me anyway."
And then, I fell in love with the blonde.
"Unreal. Some people are just so inconsiderate! She probably wanted to get out of here in a hurry because that is her gynecologist and they both know that she has a flaming case of herpes."
Mwahhahahahahahahah!!!!
(I think I may have peed my pants I laughed so hard.)
I am still wondering if they heard her...and sadly, I can't get the Gynecologist/Woman dressed for a Pap Smear image out of my head. Wow.
And that, my friends, is the highlight of my holiday season thus far!
Merry Christmas!
The soon to be "Poise" pad wearing Maid. :)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
I believe...and not in Santa Claus!
It is the most wonderful time of the year.
I know that sounds so cliche', but it truly is.
There is just a feeling surrounding many of us...it is a feeling of hope. (Those who are saved by grace, who have a personal relationship with Jesus, and who still choose to identify themselves as Christians in a time when WE are not the most popular of people.) We walk around this empty, lonely, suffering world with hope and joy. A feeling of joy despite any of our circumstances. A desire to give because we have been freely given SO much.
It is the reason for the season...the sacrifices of Christ paired with the ultimate love of our Heavenly Father.
I realize that historians and theologians argue the actual date and time of Christ's birth. I also realize that the symbols and beloved representations of His birth (wise men, nativity scenes, etc.) are also controversial. I also heard a song recently proclaiming that it was not a "silent night." It was an interesting Christian point of view. Because I have a personal relationship with Christ, I am not concerned with the exact day he was born or whether or not wise men were there as He lay in a stable manger, or a cave, or whatever. Because I know Him personally, I can celebrate who He is and just that He WAS born. (Imagine arguing with your 90 year old grandma and refusing to celebrate when you were taught to celebrate her birthday...and instead demanding the facts line up wanting to prove the exact day she was born. Really? Does it matter. She is here. She has invested in your life and your kids' lives. She attends every holiday and remembers every birthday. She is real. When she arrived doesn't matter as much as the fact that she did arrive.) And no, I'm not equating my grandma with Christ. LOL
All of those things aside, we come together as believers to truly reflect and appreciate what it means to be who we are and to shoulder both the responsibility and the blessing of being that person. A sinner, saved by grace, through faith. Nothing we could do to earn it. Nothing we could do to have it taken away from us. Knowing we will not ever be good enough on our own merit. Knowing and trying to understand with any certainty what it means to forgiven and be granted His mercies new each day.
That is why our hearts well up with love, with gratitude, with joy, and this desire to give and share and bless and do...it is all because of Jesus.
Yes, commercialism has wormed its way in more each passing year. We become more and more concerned with what we give, how we give it, what it is wrapped in (you know it is all about presentation...we wouldn't dare put a gift in a brown paper sack..right?)...but even that reminds me of what Jesus has done for us.
He cared what was given. He wanted to meet our need. We were perishing in our own sin, our need was salvation.
He cared how it was given. He wanted us to receive it. It was given without strings. It was given not because of our having given Him something first. It was (and is) offered freely to all who put their trust in him.
He cared about the wrapping. God took care in seeing that He was born to a virgin, that He dwelt among us, that He was one who understood us and presented Himself in a way that would not condemn or threaten us, but would relate with our every struggle. He made a way. He was the way. He came special delivery.
So much of that gift and wrapping paper analogy reminds me of what I see happening around me today.
How many do we know that won't accept a gift because of pride?
How many do we know that will reject a gift once it is opened because they think they don't need it?
How many do we know that judge a gift by it's wrapping? Rejecting it before they even open it.
No matter how you package the gift of salvation, the gift of Jesus' birth...it is not a useful gift if you don't open it. If you don't receive it, you couldn't possibly understand the joy of not just this wonderful time of year, but throughout the year. Throughout your circumstances, good or bad.
We truly can learn so much about our Heavenly Father and His gifts as we enjoy the season and offer our lives as a testimony to Him and to those around us.
As I wrap up this post (no pun intended), I want to share with you that I began to reflect on all of this because of an interaction I had with someone who doesn't believe. Their words were profane, their heart hard to the things of Christ, and the very things that bring many of us joy each season were like a clanging symbol to them.
I began to get sad and to feel pity that this person would be so filled with hatred and contempt for the things of the Lord. And soon God reminded me that I need not be sad, only to pray. It was truly a choice. Choosing to accept the son of God and the very gift that has been given is a decision that each of us will have to make in our lifetime. I quickly chose to be filled with gratitude instead.
The gift of salvation is foolishness to those who are perishing.
1 Corinthians 1:18 "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."
To have the faith and be called to accept the gift, is a gift itself.
Romans 8:30 "And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified."
And for that gift, I am the most grateful!
Merry Christmas to all of you, and may God bless you and keep you!
Sincerely,
The grateful Maid
I know that sounds so cliche', but it truly is.
There is just a feeling surrounding many of us...it is a feeling of hope. (Those who are saved by grace, who have a personal relationship with Jesus, and who still choose to identify themselves as Christians in a time when WE are not the most popular of people.) We walk around this empty, lonely, suffering world with hope and joy. A feeling of joy despite any of our circumstances. A desire to give because we have been freely given SO much.
It is the reason for the season...the sacrifices of Christ paired with the ultimate love of our Heavenly Father.
I realize that historians and theologians argue the actual date and time of Christ's birth. I also realize that the symbols and beloved representations of His birth (wise men, nativity scenes, etc.) are also controversial. I also heard a song recently proclaiming that it was not a "silent night." It was an interesting Christian point of view. Because I have a personal relationship with Christ, I am not concerned with the exact day he was born or whether or not wise men were there as He lay in a stable manger, or a cave, or whatever. Because I know Him personally, I can celebrate who He is and just that He WAS born. (Imagine arguing with your 90 year old grandma and refusing to celebrate when you were taught to celebrate her birthday...and instead demanding the facts line up wanting to prove the exact day she was born. Really? Does it matter. She is here. She has invested in your life and your kids' lives. She attends every holiday and remembers every birthday. She is real. When she arrived doesn't matter as much as the fact that she did arrive.) And no, I'm not equating my grandma with Christ. LOL
All of those things aside, we come together as believers to truly reflect and appreciate what it means to be who we are and to shoulder both the responsibility and the blessing of being that person. A sinner, saved by grace, through faith. Nothing we could do to earn it. Nothing we could do to have it taken away from us. Knowing we will not ever be good enough on our own merit. Knowing and trying to understand with any certainty what it means to forgiven and be granted His mercies new each day.
That is why our hearts well up with love, with gratitude, with joy, and this desire to give and share and bless and do...it is all because of Jesus.
Yes, commercialism has wormed its way in more each passing year. We become more and more concerned with what we give, how we give it, what it is wrapped in (you know it is all about presentation...we wouldn't dare put a gift in a brown paper sack..right?)...but even that reminds me of what Jesus has done for us.
He cared what was given. He wanted to meet our need. We were perishing in our own sin, our need was salvation.
He cared how it was given. He wanted us to receive it. It was given without strings. It was given not because of our having given Him something first. It was (and is) offered freely to all who put their trust in him.
He cared about the wrapping. God took care in seeing that He was born to a virgin, that He dwelt among us, that He was one who understood us and presented Himself in a way that would not condemn or threaten us, but would relate with our every struggle. He made a way. He was the way. He came special delivery.
So much of that gift and wrapping paper analogy reminds me of what I see happening around me today.
How many do we know that won't accept a gift because of pride?
How many do we know that will reject a gift once it is opened because they think they don't need it?
How many do we know that judge a gift by it's wrapping? Rejecting it before they even open it.
No matter how you package the gift of salvation, the gift of Jesus' birth...it is not a useful gift if you don't open it. If you don't receive it, you couldn't possibly understand the joy of not just this wonderful time of year, but throughout the year. Throughout your circumstances, good or bad.
We truly can learn so much about our Heavenly Father and His gifts as we enjoy the season and offer our lives as a testimony to Him and to those around us.
As I wrap up this post (no pun intended), I want to share with you that I began to reflect on all of this because of an interaction I had with someone who doesn't believe. Their words were profane, their heart hard to the things of Christ, and the very things that bring many of us joy each season were like a clanging symbol to them.
I began to get sad and to feel pity that this person would be so filled with hatred and contempt for the things of the Lord. And soon God reminded me that I need not be sad, only to pray. It was truly a choice. Choosing to accept the son of God and the very gift that has been given is a decision that each of us will have to make in our lifetime. I quickly chose to be filled with gratitude instead.
The gift of salvation is foolishness to those who are perishing.
1 Corinthians 1:18 "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."
To have the faith and be called to accept the gift, is a gift itself.
Romans 8:30 "And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified."
And for that gift, I am the most grateful!
Merry Christmas to all of you, and may God bless you and keep you!
Sincerely,
The grateful Maid
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Yep, still nothin.
Fooled you, didn't I?
You thought there was going to be a new post. Well...ha. There isn't.
I just wanted to check in and let my bloggy friends and readers (all two of you) know that I have some stuff to share with all of you, but no time.
I just finished baking the goods for my kiddos to take to their teachers and am going to bed!
When the weekend hits, I will make time to talk to all of you!
(Oh, who am I fooling? See you next year!)
:) The Maid Delayed.
You thought there was going to be a new post. Well...ha. There isn't.
I just wanted to check in and let my bloggy friends and readers (all two of you) know that I have some stuff to share with all of you, but no time.
I just finished baking the goods for my kiddos to take to their teachers and am going to bed!
When the weekend hits, I will make time to talk to all of you!
(Oh, who am I fooling? See you next year!)
:) The Maid Delayed.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Content, more or less.
For as many years as I can remember, December always seemed to rush in and rush out.
There is always so much to do. So many things to make, buy, shop for, return, and lots of opportunities to gather together with friends and family.
This year, I have purposed not to spend my month trying to catch up on the things I need to do. This year, I have decided to shop early and less. To spend wisely, and less. To eat yummy things, and less. (Yes I will...just watch.)
I want less this year altogether.
Less stress,
less waste,
less junk,
less conflict,
less stuff,
less distraction,
less disappointment,
less rejection,
less mess,
less illness,
less clean up,
and most of all...
less chaos.
Which brings me to what I really want more of. Yep...I want more too.
More joy,
more sleep,
more planning,
more spontaneity, (I know...I am an enigma.)
more health,
more peace,
more order,
more sparkly lights,
more candles,
more focus,
more contentment,
and most of all
more Jesus.
I believe it can be done. I believe that even though I have already purchased gifts and wrapped them, and plan to only purchase a few more...we will have less this year. My kids will enjoy clothes and a few small things. And lots of family time and fellowship and they will get to give.
We will give treats, treasures, time, love, service, and ourselves. We will spend time doing the things we love with the people we love and we won't feel guilty about it.
We will probably say no to a few things. We will hopefully say yes to a lot more things.
We will purpose to show gratitude each day.
I believe that if we do anything this month, and we don't do it with love, it won't matter.
(I know that is from 1 Corinthians 13, but it still rings true.)
So, we will show love.
And if that is all we do, that one little thing, that one thing that we can only do with Christ who dwells in us, then we will be content with that.
"Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.
I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need." (Phil 4:11-12)
So I think I will be content with a little less and a little more. And I will do it with love, because....
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13)
Happy December Blog Friends! May this season be blessed for you all and may you be content in any and every circumstance.
Sincerely,
The Maid, more or less.
There is always so much to do. So many things to make, buy, shop for, return, and lots of opportunities to gather together with friends and family.
This year, I have purposed not to spend my month trying to catch up on the things I need to do. This year, I have decided to shop early and less. To spend wisely, and less. To eat yummy things, and less. (Yes I will...just watch.)
I want less this year altogether.
Less stress,
less waste,
less junk,
less conflict,
less stuff,
less distraction,
less disappointment,
less rejection,
less mess,
less illness,
less clean up,
and most of all...
less chaos.
Which brings me to what I really want more of. Yep...I want more too.
More joy,
more sleep,
more planning,
more spontaneity, (I know...I am an enigma.)
more health,
more peace,
more order,
more sparkly lights,
more candles,
more focus,
more contentment,
and most of all
more Jesus.
I believe it can be done. I believe that even though I have already purchased gifts and wrapped them, and plan to only purchase a few more...we will have less this year. My kids will enjoy clothes and a few small things. And lots of family time and fellowship and they will get to give.
We will give treats, treasures, time, love, service, and ourselves. We will spend time doing the things we love with the people we love and we won't feel guilty about it.
We will probably say no to a few things. We will hopefully say yes to a lot more things.
We will purpose to show gratitude each day.
I believe that if we do anything this month, and we don't do it with love, it won't matter.
(I know that is from 1 Corinthians 13, but it still rings true.)
So, we will show love.
And if that is all we do, that one little thing, that one thing that we can only do with Christ who dwells in us, then we will be content with that.
"Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.
I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need." (Phil 4:11-12)
So I think I will be content with a little less and a little more. And I will do it with love, because....
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13)
Happy December Blog Friends! May this season be blessed for you all and may you be content in any and every circumstance.
Sincerely,
The Maid, more or less.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Safety first...or second, or at least third.
Hello bloggers, stalkers, lurkers, friends, Romans, countrymen...
I have a question. A few actually. And, well, here is my dilemma. I don't even know if anyone is actually reading this.
1) Is there anyone out there anymore?
2) Should I close up shop and just grab a pen and start a diary?
3) How do I go from Blah-g...to BLOG! (As my friend would say...I don't want to be a blahg anymore.) I can't post often, but when I do, I want people to WANT to read it. ;)
4) Is it safe to post photos? Even if I disguise the real names and all...is it safe?
So there....I want to come out of hiding. (Well, at least with photos of my kids.)
I know so many bloggers who have proudly displayed photos of the kids and family stuff..and well, I want to join in and show off my precious peeps.
Oh, and the occasional funny picture, well, I have some doozies.
So...let me know what y'all think. Be honest.
:) The Maid
PS - If you are a sicko and want to see pictures for all the wrong reasons...go google something terminal and come down with it. I don't want you here. Just sayin.
I have a question. A few actually. And, well, here is my dilemma. I don't even know if anyone is actually reading this.
1) Is there anyone out there anymore?
2) Should I close up shop and just grab a pen and start a diary?
3) How do I go from Blah-g...to BLOG! (As my friend would say...I don't want to be a blahg anymore.) I can't post often, but when I do, I want people to WANT to read it. ;)
4) Is it safe to post photos? Even if I disguise the real names and all...is it safe?
So there....I want to come out of hiding. (Well, at least with photos of my kids.)
I know so many bloggers who have proudly displayed photos of the kids and family stuff..and well, I want to join in and show off my precious peeps.
Oh, and the occasional funny picture, well, I have some doozies.
So...let me know what y'all think. Be honest.
:) The Maid
PS - If you are a sicko and want to see pictures for all the wrong reasons...go google something terminal and come down with it. I don't want you here. Just sayin.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Dreaming bigger...
As a child, I remember dreaming this time of year. Dreaming big. Not just lower case big, but upper case B - I - G! I remember making my full page and a half list of all of the things that I wanted for not only Christmas, but my birthday too. (I was "blessed" to have a December birthday.) While I often missed out on getting to celebrate my birthday with my classmates, I had a great mom who insisted that my birthday would be a separate and grand celebration. None of this birthday gift wrapped in Christmas paper business....but a full blown goodie fest of an entirely different style. It was always something special. She even made me cakes. Not any cake, but clown cakes, train cakes, a 3-D Smurf cake complete with blue icing...and more.
Good times.
She made it fun. She took on a dozen kids...piled in a car (long before the mini van and seat belt laws) and escorted us to "Pasquale's Pizza"...the best pizza ever. And, pizza places back then. They rocked. None of this tokens and games business...nope. It was more like the "dimes in juke boxes" kind of rocked. And that was cool. And we had fun. Laughing, dancing, scarfing pizza, drinking (soda people, I was 9 for goodness sake), and present-opening fun. Good, old fashioned, 1980 style fun.
I would sit among the unopened presents and my mind would go crazy. In my wide-eyed little girl brain, I was already baking in my Easy-Bake oven, playing with my Fashion Dolls Fashion Plates, and dreaming up the most artistic Lite-Brite scenes you could imagine. I knew in one or two of those boxes there would be clothing. But that was okay too. Courderoy jumpsuits, knee-high socks with sandals, and velvet dresses. I would wear each and every ensemble with pride. Hair parted proudly down the middle and pulled up on the side with plastic barrettes or maybe even piled in a half pony on top. Yep, with pom poms or bobble hair bands. (I still can't figure those things out.) I was loving life. In fact, I would write all of my great birthday moments in my diary with the little lock and key that never really worked. ;)
There might even be a gift or two with cash in it. Yep...remember cash? The perfect fit. The perfect color every time. None of these plastic cop outs...gift cards. These, "I don't know you well enough to know what you like" kind of gifts. (Hey, don't send me hate mail. I am a 37 year old who loves a gift card, but gift cards for kids has become the cop-out gift. It was always so much fun to open a game, a toy, or even an ugly, but thoughtful outfit...beautifully wrapped. There is something anticlimatic about being handed an envelope with a rectangular shaped piece of plastic in it when you are 9.)
Those were good times.
At about 10 or 12, those times came to a halt. I'm not saying that I never had a good party or a great gift after the age of 12, but the dreaming seemed to stop somewhere in the early double digits and I don't know why.
Maybe it was maturity. Knowing that Santa didn't exist, and your parents had limits.
Maybe it was disappointment. Knowing that dreaming the big dreams didn't always pay off. (Like the time you got the educational toy instead of the Barbie Van.)
Maybe it was the "surprise ruiner." Knowing what you were getting before you got it was always a buzzkill. (Thanks cousin Suzanne.)
Maybe it was all three.
But something has resurrected the dreaming. Several somethings. They are 17, 13, 11, 9, 7, 6, 3, and 1. In fact, the dreaming began anew in November of 1992. My eyes were opened to the world of dreaming again.
They are not only the dreamers around here, they ARE my dreams. Seeing them happy, watching them delight in a good and perfect gift. Knowing that I get to help make their "wish list" become reality. Their joy is my business. Making even the difficult ones come true, exceeding their expectations, going one better than their dreams...that is my biggest dream. In fact, if I receive nothing tangible...this is good enough.
This year, I can't give my children their dreams. I can give them only needs. Maybe a single want. Nothing big. No big dreams. This year, I can't go it one better. I can't deliver Ipods, cell phones, designer clothing, electronics, bikes, play kitchens with fake food....I just can't. I have asked the Lord to give me what I need to bless the socks off of my kids, and it is just not in the cards this year. How can I get excited about giving my family a mediocre Christmas? They only get to be little, to be "dreamers" for a short while. Why, God, won't you give my husband work so that we can pay ALL of our bills, take vacations, buy the braces, and of course "Do Christmas" ? Still, no answer.
And then it hit me, if I, being evil, know how to give good gifts to my children, how much more does the father in heaven long to give good gifts to me?
It is written in Matthew 7:11 "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"
All I am required to do is trust Him.
I would certainly ask my children to trust me. To trust me to know what they want, what they need, and to go one better.
And yet I have such a hard time trusting Him. Trusting Him to give me what I need, what I want, and to "exceedingly, abundantly" give me more than I could ask or imagine. How could a loving God not provide for us to pay our bills and give our children their childhood dreams?
And then I realized He already has. While we are financially bankrupt, for now, we still have a roof over our heads. We have no shortage of food on the table. We have clothing out the wazoo. (Although my wazoo is busting out of most of my clothing, I am covered.) And as far as giving my children their childhood dreams goes...they have the ability to dream. They can indulge in fantasy long enough to make some amazing wish lists.
And my delight is not to be in filling each and every request, but in just listening to them dream and dreaming with them. Sharing in their excitement at the prospect of Christmas and what new things it will bring. They will live the dream in going to special church services, worshipping Jesus, having cookie night with Granny, going to Jesus' birthday party with Grandma and Grandpa, and bringing gifts to the Angel tree kids...and many more special festivities.
Yep, as I have been listening to my kids make their lists or shout out their top 3 "wants" for the chaos that is Christmas morning, I realize that the dream is alive and well. And that my mind has once again begun dreaming the big dreams.
They are just different now. Very different.
I want...
Peace in my home.
Love in my heart.
The freedom to worship Jesus whenever and wherever I choose.
Family gathered around at every opportunity.
To reach out to people who are alone.
Warm memories and maybe some snuggles with a partially toothless three year old and a chubby one year old.
A cup of cocoa or apple cider because it means slowing down and doing things different...and that it is winter.
The health to enjoy the season.
To greet each day with a genuine smile of gratitude.
Yep, Jesus...that is a big list...what do you say, maybe we can dream these dreams together?
Love,
The dreaming BIGGER Maid
"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4
Good times.
She made it fun. She took on a dozen kids...piled in a car (long before the mini van and seat belt laws) and escorted us to "Pasquale's Pizza"...the best pizza ever. And, pizza places back then. They rocked. None of this tokens and games business...nope. It was more like the "dimes in juke boxes" kind of rocked. And that was cool. And we had fun. Laughing, dancing, scarfing pizza, drinking (soda people, I was 9 for goodness sake), and present-opening fun. Good, old fashioned, 1980 style fun.
I would sit among the unopened presents and my mind would go crazy. In my wide-eyed little girl brain, I was already baking in my Easy-Bake oven, playing with my Fashion Dolls Fashion Plates, and dreaming up the most artistic Lite-Brite scenes you could imagine. I knew in one or two of those boxes there would be clothing. But that was okay too. Courderoy jumpsuits, knee-high socks with sandals, and velvet dresses. I would wear each and every ensemble with pride. Hair parted proudly down the middle and pulled up on the side with plastic barrettes or maybe even piled in a half pony on top. Yep, with pom poms or bobble hair bands. (I still can't figure those things out.) I was loving life. In fact, I would write all of my great birthday moments in my diary with the little lock and key that never really worked. ;)
There might even be a gift or two with cash in it. Yep...remember cash? The perfect fit. The perfect color every time. None of these plastic cop outs...gift cards. These, "I don't know you well enough to know what you like" kind of gifts. (Hey, don't send me hate mail. I am a 37 year old who loves a gift card, but gift cards for kids has become the cop-out gift. It was always so much fun to open a game, a toy, or even an ugly, but thoughtful outfit...beautifully wrapped. There is something anticlimatic about being handed an envelope with a rectangular shaped piece of plastic in it when you are 9.)
Those were good times.
At about 10 or 12, those times came to a halt. I'm not saying that I never had a good party or a great gift after the age of 12, but the dreaming seemed to stop somewhere in the early double digits and I don't know why.
Maybe it was maturity. Knowing that Santa didn't exist, and your parents had limits.
Maybe it was disappointment. Knowing that dreaming the big dreams didn't always pay off. (Like the time you got the educational toy instead of the Barbie Van.)
Maybe it was the "surprise ruiner." Knowing what you were getting before you got it was always a buzzkill. (Thanks cousin Suzanne.)
Maybe it was all three.
But something has resurrected the dreaming. Several somethings. They are 17, 13, 11, 9, 7, 6, 3, and 1. In fact, the dreaming began anew in November of 1992. My eyes were opened to the world of dreaming again.
They are not only the dreamers around here, they ARE my dreams. Seeing them happy, watching them delight in a good and perfect gift. Knowing that I get to help make their "wish list" become reality. Their joy is my business. Making even the difficult ones come true, exceeding their expectations, going one better than their dreams...that is my biggest dream. In fact, if I receive nothing tangible...this is good enough.
This year, I can't give my children their dreams. I can give them only needs. Maybe a single want. Nothing big. No big dreams. This year, I can't go it one better. I can't deliver Ipods, cell phones, designer clothing, electronics, bikes, play kitchens with fake food....I just can't. I have asked the Lord to give me what I need to bless the socks off of my kids, and it is just not in the cards this year. How can I get excited about giving my family a mediocre Christmas? They only get to be little, to be "dreamers" for a short while. Why, God, won't you give my husband work so that we can pay ALL of our bills, take vacations, buy the braces, and of course "Do Christmas" ? Still, no answer.
And then it hit me, if I, being evil, know how to give good gifts to my children, how much more does the father in heaven long to give good gifts to me?
It is written in Matthew 7:11 "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"
All I am required to do is trust Him.
I would certainly ask my children to trust me. To trust me to know what they want, what they need, and to go one better.
And yet I have such a hard time trusting Him. Trusting Him to give me what I need, what I want, and to "exceedingly, abundantly" give me more than I could ask or imagine. How could a loving God not provide for us to pay our bills and give our children their childhood dreams?
And then I realized He already has. While we are financially bankrupt, for now, we still have a roof over our heads. We have no shortage of food on the table. We have clothing out the wazoo. (Although my wazoo is busting out of most of my clothing, I am covered.) And as far as giving my children their childhood dreams goes...they have the ability to dream. They can indulge in fantasy long enough to make some amazing wish lists.
And my delight is not to be in filling each and every request, but in just listening to them dream and dreaming with them. Sharing in their excitement at the prospect of Christmas and what new things it will bring. They will live the dream in going to special church services, worshipping Jesus, having cookie night with Granny, going to Jesus' birthday party with Grandma and Grandpa, and bringing gifts to the Angel tree kids...and many more special festivities.
Yep, as I have been listening to my kids make their lists or shout out their top 3 "wants" for the chaos that is Christmas morning, I realize that the dream is alive and well. And that my mind has once again begun dreaming the big dreams.
They are just different now. Very different.
I want...
Peace in my home.
Love in my heart.
The freedom to worship Jesus whenever and wherever I choose.
Family gathered around at every opportunity.
To reach out to people who are alone.
Warm memories and maybe some snuggles with a partially toothless three year old and a chubby one year old.
A cup of cocoa or apple cider because it means slowing down and doing things different...and that it is winter.
The health to enjoy the season.
To greet each day with a genuine smile of gratitude.
Yep, Jesus...that is a big list...what do you say, maybe we can dream these dreams together?
Love,
The dreaming BIGGER Maid
"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Facebook, Shmacebook.
Hi. I'm the Maid, and I'm a facebookaholic.
(*Hi Maid*)
I look around the room and it is eerily familiar.
There are people I know from all walks of life.
Even some people that were tagged from someone elses walk.
Oh, and then there is that girl in the corner, the one who always puts those dirty things on her wall. The one that I secretly judge and wanted to delete, but didn't. Because I was giving her "grace." (Christianese for "I wanted to see what else she would say or do so that I would have further gossip down the road.") Did I just say that? Geesh, I'm a mess. It's gonna take several meetings.
There were family members. Most of whom ignored me. All of whom bragged about their fun experiences in their real, every day lives. Experiences that I was never included in. Further proving that family is the ultimate "F" word.
Then there were the I'd better add so and so if I add so and so "friends." You know the ones. You added her because she was best friends with your other friend who is on her friend page. She friend requested you and you politely accepted. (Truth is you never really liked her, you aren't interested in her life, and if you really thought about her knowing the details of your life, you would hit delete NOW!)
Oh, and then...then there are the "groups" of friends..the ones where if you do add one, you take the whole group. And you truly don't know why. Because none of these people probably even know your kids names or your current marital status, but it's almost a morbid curiosity and an assinine set of "manners" that forces you to. (Maybe you see these people at church...you promise to get together, and NEVER do. Maybe these are people you see once a month. You fake it, and then move on.)
The friend list would not be complete without the blasts from the past. The ones who haven't heard from you or you from them in 15 years...and the thought of them seeing a current picture makes you have nightmares and has you reconsidering gastric bypass surgery.
Then there are the lurkers. Kind of like blog world, but you know they are there because you "accepted" them. They sit and watch, never speak. And in passing utter some eery comment reminding you that they are reading EVERYTHING you say.
Surprise friends are on there too. The ones that you thought you wouldn't talk to or have anything in common with...and they become your chatter buddies. They talk to you at every IM opportunity. Until you learn to turn the chat off. (Face it, sometimes you want to put some food on the stove in your Cafe' and you don't want to chat.)
Yet another sign that you are a facebookaholic. You have set real world timers for fake food. You have harvested someone elses virtual crops. You have bejeweled, farkled, Maffia-ed, and cafe'-ed yourself until you can barely find time for your own farm.
The disappointments abound on facebook. Those people that you are friends with in real life that publicly shame you or hurt you, the ones that blatantly talk to everyone BUT you on your page, and the ones who even have ignored your private messages! Oh, and the facebook giver...the one who gives pieces of flair, flowers, cocktails and Starbucks to everyone BUT you, and makes it public enough so that you know about it.
Yep, you know you are a facebookaholic when it is the first thing you want to do in the morning and the last thing you do before bedtime. When you put too much thought and stock in what is going on in the pseudo-friend world. You know that when you really find yourself liking people more or less because of one sentence blurbs scattered on the internet, that you have some real soul searching to do.
It is a painful and rude awakening. You realize that the word "friend" has been used too loosely. When you are tracking the ins and outs of 200+ people that go completely about their lives without you. When you had hopes that your connections could increase in a meaningful way with 200+ people, and yet, here...a year later...you have never sat in a "real" cafe with any of your cafe' friends!
Today, I am no longer a friend. As easy as a right click of the mouse, on a 6 letter word..."remove", did all of those friends disappear.
Today, I find myself suffering a pretty severe "friendship" hangover.
Facebook, shmacebook. How thou hast betrayed me.
(Not to mention made my house dirtier, wasted hours of my life, probably widened the girth of my computer chair-glued rear-end, and kept me away from the ONE who calls me friend.)
FaithBOOK, here I come.
"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance (for me that is facebook), and the sin (making it an idol) which so easily entangles us (makes us judge, hurt, criticize, deal falsely), and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1-2
"So then, let us pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another." Romans 14:19
Disclaimer: I am not condemning facebook itself. For me, as many things are, it became an encumbrance. It kept me from a more righteous calling. My family, my health, my Jesus.
This post is my experience with a real problem in my life and a real and loving God who disciplines me because I belong to Him. It is painful as all discipline is, but I continue to grow in grace of the knowledge of the Lord. (2 Peter 3:18) I am grateful that He cares enough about us all to show us even in the little things. Praise God!
(*Hi Maid*)
I look around the room and it is eerily familiar.
There are people I know from all walks of life.
Even some people that were tagged from someone elses walk.
Oh, and then there is that girl in the corner, the one who always puts those dirty things on her wall. The one that I secretly judge and wanted to delete, but didn't. Because I was giving her "grace." (Christianese for "I wanted to see what else she would say or do so that I would have further gossip down the road.") Did I just say that? Geesh, I'm a mess. It's gonna take several meetings.
There were family members. Most of whom ignored me. All of whom bragged about their fun experiences in their real, every day lives. Experiences that I was never included in. Further proving that family is the ultimate "F" word.
Then there were the I'd better add so and so if I add so and so "friends." You know the ones. You added her because she was best friends with your other friend who is on her friend page. She friend requested you and you politely accepted. (Truth is you never really liked her, you aren't interested in her life, and if you really thought about her knowing the details of your life, you would hit delete NOW!)
Oh, and then...then there are the "groups" of friends..the ones where if you do add one, you take the whole group. And you truly don't know why. Because none of these people probably even know your kids names or your current marital status, but it's almost a morbid curiosity and an assinine set of "manners" that forces you to. (Maybe you see these people at church...you promise to get together, and NEVER do. Maybe these are people you see once a month. You fake it, and then move on.)
The friend list would not be complete without the blasts from the past. The ones who haven't heard from you or you from them in 15 years...and the thought of them seeing a current picture makes you have nightmares and has you reconsidering gastric bypass surgery.
Then there are the lurkers. Kind of like blog world, but you know they are there because you "accepted" them. They sit and watch, never speak. And in passing utter some eery comment reminding you that they are reading EVERYTHING you say.
Surprise friends are on there too. The ones that you thought you wouldn't talk to or have anything in common with...and they become your chatter buddies. They talk to you at every IM opportunity. Until you learn to turn the chat off. (Face it, sometimes you want to put some food on the stove in your Cafe' and you don't want to chat.)
Yet another sign that you are a facebookaholic. You have set real world timers for fake food. You have harvested someone elses virtual crops. You have bejeweled, farkled, Maffia-ed, and cafe'-ed yourself until you can barely find time for your own farm.
The disappointments abound on facebook. Those people that you are friends with in real life that publicly shame you or hurt you, the ones that blatantly talk to everyone BUT you on your page, and the ones who even have ignored your private messages! Oh, and the facebook giver...the one who gives pieces of flair, flowers, cocktails and Starbucks to everyone BUT you, and makes it public enough so that you know about it.
Yep, you know you are a facebookaholic when it is the first thing you want to do in the morning and the last thing you do before bedtime. When you put too much thought and stock in what is going on in the pseudo-friend world. You know that when you really find yourself liking people more or less because of one sentence blurbs scattered on the internet, that you have some real soul searching to do.
It is a painful and rude awakening. You realize that the word "friend" has been used too loosely. When you are tracking the ins and outs of 200+ people that go completely about their lives without you. When you had hopes that your connections could increase in a meaningful way with 200+ people, and yet, here...a year later...you have never sat in a "real" cafe with any of your cafe' friends!
Today, I am no longer a friend. As easy as a right click of the mouse, on a 6 letter word..."remove", did all of those friends disappear.
Today, I find myself suffering a pretty severe "friendship" hangover.
Facebook, shmacebook. How thou hast betrayed me.
(Not to mention made my house dirtier, wasted hours of my life, probably widened the girth of my computer chair-glued rear-end, and kept me away from the ONE who calls me friend.)
FaithBOOK, here I come.
"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance (for me that is facebook), and the sin (making it an idol) which so easily entangles us (makes us judge, hurt, criticize, deal falsely), and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1-2
"So then, let us pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another." Romans 14:19
Disclaimer: I am not condemning facebook itself. For me, as many things are, it became an encumbrance. It kept me from a more righteous calling. My family, my health, my Jesus.
This post is my experience with a real problem in my life and a real and loving God who disciplines me because I belong to Him. It is painful as all discipline is, but I continue to grow in grace of the knowledge of the Lord. (2 Peter 3:18) I am grateful that He cares enough about us all to show us even in the little things. Praise God!
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
The Top 10 Signs that you are in need of a "Lifestyle" change...
We don't say diet...we say, "Lifestyle change."
As if that helps.
But recently, I began reflecting on this area of my life (when don't I?) and some lightbulb moments (thanks Oprah) happened to spring up. And since you can't change what you don't acknowledge (thanks Dr. Phil), I thought I might "acknowledge" all of these things here...top ten style. (Thanks David Letterman):
The Top 10 Reasons You Begin to realize your need for a Lifestyle Change:
10) You think the "Big Dress" Ruby is wearing looks comfortable.
9) You think you could rock the "naked in bed sheets" look at the Brookhaven Obesity Clinic.
8) You hate to drop things in public because that means bending your fat butt over. (And you always bring a kid with you for this reason..."honey, pick that up for mama.")
7) You contemplate having another child so that you can go another year without sucking your stomach in.
6) Even though you are the shortest person on the planet, you like the back row in pictures.
5) You no longer have to squeeze your face together when you do the "Hi, my name is chubby" joke.
4) You watch Biggest Loser for "inspiration" with tub of cookie dough and fork.
3) You have to give up your favorite pants because your thighs have herniated the fabric in the crotch.
2) You think "don't ask, don't tell" should be the new Weight Watcher slogan. (And you find that orange "hungry" character kind of cute.)
AND the number one reason it might be time to change your lifestyle.....
1) You wake up feeling as if you are being strangled by your own breasts. (Image too disturbing for blog.)
Thinking it is time for "You, on a diet." (Thanks Dr. Oz)
Honestly yours,
The ready to be made thin, Maid.
As if that helps.
But recently, I began reflecting on this area of my life (when don't I?) and some lightbulb moments (thanks Oprah) happened to spring up. And since you can't change what you don't acknowledge (thanks Dr. Phil), I thought I might "acknowledge" all of these things here...top ten style. (Thanks David Letterman):
The Top 10 Reasons You Begin to realize your need for a Lifestyle Change:
10) You think the "Big Dress" Ruby is wearing looks comfortable.
9) You think you could rock the "naked in bed sheets" look at the Brookhaven Obesity Clinic.
8) You hate to drop things in public because that means bending your fat butt over. (And you always bring a kid with you for this reason..."honey, pick that up for mama.")
7) You contemplate having another child so that you can go another year without sucking your stomach in.
6) Even though you are the shortest person on the planet, you like the back row in pictures.
5) You no longer have to squeeze your face together when you do the "Hi, my name is chubby" joke.
4) You watch Biggest Loser for "inspiration" with tub of cookie dough and fork.
3) You have to give up your favorite pants because your thighs have herniated the fabric in the crotch.
2) You think "don't ask, don't tell" should be the new Weight Watcher slogan. (And you find that orange "hungry" character kind of cute.)
AND the number one reason it might be time to change your lifestyle.....
1) You wake up feeling as if you are being strangled by your own breasts. (Image too disturbing for blog.)
Thinking it is time for "You, on a diet." (Thanks Dr. Oz)
Honestly yours,
The ready to be made thin, Maid.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Google must die.
Actually, let me rephrase that..."My urge to Google must die."
Do you ever feel like having all of this information at your very feeble and often inept fingertips is a hazzard to your health?
I do. I REALLY do.
In fact, I have a love/hate relationship with my computer search engine. I do not like that anytime I feel led, I can put in any word or phrase...or even question...and find out more than I ever wanted to know. There is just too much information out there, and well, sometimes I am just not qualified to read some of it. Do you feel me?
For example, I am a hypochondriac. I know this. And, you might think, knowing is half the battle. Well, it is not. I know I am a hypchondriac...and so I can google the symptoms of said disorder and find all of the little reasons why I am CERTAIN that I am....see for yourself:
(DEF: Hypochondriac: A person who has hypochondriasis, a disorder characterized by a preoccupation with body functions and the interpretation of normal body sensations (such as sweating) or minor abnormalities (such as minor aches and pains) as portending problems of major medical moment. Reassurance by physicians and others only serves to increase the hypochondriac's persistent anxiety about their health.) That last sentence...SO true, by the way. I have left emergency rooms after thousands of dollars of testing was done...and being told I was fine...only to say to myself, "Well, I'm pretty sure they missed it. They didn't do a colonoscopy. Yep. My spleen could still rupture." *Holding my left side* I. Am. Sick.
I can also Google, and have, any medical disorder that is mentioned on Dr. G Medical Examiner, TLC, or Discovery Health Channel. I am pretty certain that I have had strokes, heart attacks, thyroid disease, scabies, impetigo, am falling prey to Pancreatic cancer, colon cancer, breast cancer (all of the SEVERAL types that I have been emailed about...you know what I mean) and I even would guess that I have ovarian cancer right now. Because I have gas, bloating, and pelvic pain. And I often have the symptoms of IBS. Which might also mean that I have diabetes, candida, a bowel obstruction, parasites and a nasty case of the flu. Maybe even the H1N1 flu. (It is so much more fun to say swine flu, isn't it?) I ate a shrimp tonight...maybe it is the Brine flu.
So...I am not meaning to sound like I am making a big joke out of this. I realize that it is a true sickness. I worry and fret and live my life in fear constantly that any of these fears of diseases that I have googled and studied up on are currently waiting to present themselves. The only diseases that I often am able to rule out are the ones that say "unexpected weight loss."
Nope. No unexpected weight loss here. NONE. So, for now, I think I can scratch Pancreatic Cancer from my list of possible diseases.
I bet right about now, you are waiting for a reason to finish reading this morbid post. Well, let me give you one.
Tonight, I think I may have discovered a symptom that I have been overlooking.
As I was Googling (big surprise) ALS...or Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease...I stumbled across a symptom that I live with DAILY. (On a serious note, be in prayer for a friend of ours, we will call him "Flintstone," to protect his identity...he has just been diagnosed with this, and that is why I got scared into Googling it.)
The list of symptoms went like this:
Difficulty breathing (Check.)
Difficulty swallowing (Double check.)
Gagging (Totally have done that.)
Chokes easily (Yes...and not because I eat too fast or anything.)
Head drop due to weak spinal and neck muscles (Sometimes!)
Muscle cramps (YES! The kind that wake me up out of bed.)
Muscle weakness that slowly gets worse (Well, no, but when I had the flu..yes.)
Paralysis (Not yet, but I'm thinking not wanting to excercise is a start.)
Speech problems, such as a slow or abnormal speech pattern (Abnormal? Yes.)
Voice changes, hoarseness (Every day when I wake up! UGH!)
Additional symptoms that may be associated with this disease:
Drooling (Sometimes, when I sleep.)
Muscle contractions (Eyelid twitching?)
Muscle spasms (Nope, this is the eyelid twitching one, right?)
Ankle, feet, and leg swelling (YES...just read this post...Cankles?)
Weight loss (Darn it. Deal breaker.)
Well, as you can see...I ruled myself out...with the last one.
But here...here is the one that made me think....ready?
Some patients have trouble controlling crying or laughing. This is sometimes called "emotional incontinence."
I can finally put a name with a face. I mean my face. I have that! I TOTALLY have that. "Emotional Incontinence."
I cannot control my laughing. Even when it is inappropriate.
And crying? Well, just this weekend, I erupted in such a snot cry (you know the hysterical out of breath kind) that I had to leave the building...step outside and practice my old Lamaze breathing...that's it! Emotional Incontinence!!!!
Now, dear ones, what on earth am I supposed to do with that information?
What kind of products do they make for THAT? I mean, am I going to have to put in cry catheters? Take a laugh suppressant?
Great. One more thing to worry about. Sigh.
Seriously...if anyone sees the infomercial for the products that can spare me a lifetime of embarrassment because of my Emotional Incontinence...will you let me know? And would someone Google if the supplies for that disorder come in plain, unmarked, brown packaging? Because, after this one, I am afraid I am swearing off of Google.
Sincerely,
Your Googling, "EmoInco" Maid.
(I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now...should I Google that?)
Do you ever feel like having all of this information at your very feeble and often inept fingertips is a hazzard to your health?
I do. I REALLY do.
In fact, I have a love/hate relationship with my computer search engine. I do not like that anytime I feel led, I can put in any word or phrase...or even question...and find out more than I ever wanted to know. There is just too much information out there, and well, sometimes I am just not qualified to read some of it. Do you feel me?
For example, I am a hypochondriac. I know this. And, you might think, knowing is half the battle. Well, it is not. I know I am a hypchondriac...and so I can google the symptoms of said disorder and find all of the little reasons why I am CERTAIN that I am....see for yourself:
(DEF: Hypochondriac: A person who has hypochondriasis, a disorder characterized by a preoccupation with body functions and the interpretation of normal body sensations (such as sweating) or minor abnormalities (such as minor aches and pains) as portending problems of major medical moment. Reassurance by physicians and others only serves to increase the hypochondriac's persistent anxiety about their health.) That last sentence...SO true, by the way. I have left emergency rooms after thousands of dollars of testing was done...and being told I was fine...only to say to myself, "Well, I'm pretty sure they missed it. They didn't do a colonoscopy. Yep. My spleen could still rupture." *Holding my left side* I. Am. Sick.
I can also Google, and have, any medical disorder that is mentioned on Dr. G Medical Examiner, TLC, or Discovery Health Channel. I am pretty certain that I have had strokes, heart attacks, thyroid disease, scabies, impetigo, am falling prey to Pancreatic cancer, colon cancer, breast cancer (all of the SEVERAL types that I have been emailed about...you know what I mean) and I even would guess that I have ovarian cancer right now. Because I have gas, bloating, and pelvic pain. And I often have the symptoms of IBS. Which might also mean that I have diabetes, candida, a bowel obstruction, parasites and a nasty case of the flu. Maybe even the H1N1 flu. (It is so much more fun to say swine flu, isn't it?) I ate a shrimp tonight...maybe it is the Brine flu.
So...I am not meaning to sound like I am making a big joke out of this. I realize that it is a true sickness. I worry and fret and live my life in fear constantly that any of these fears of diseases that I have googled and studied up on are currently waiting to present themselves. The only diseases that I often am able to rule out are the ones that say "unexpected weight loss."
Nope. No unexpected weight loss here. NONE. So, for now, I think I can scratch Pancreatic Cancer from my list of possible diseases.
I bet right about now, you are waiting for a reason to finish reading this morbid post. Well, let me give you one.
Tonight, I think I may have discovered a symptom that I have been overlooking.
As I was Googling (big surprise) ALS...or Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease...I stumbled across a symptom that I live with DAILY. (On a serious note, be in prayer for a friend of ours, we will call him "Flintstone," to protect his identity...he has just been diagnosed with this, and that is why I got scared into Googling it.)
The list of symptoms went like this:
Difficulty breathing (Check.)
Difficulty swallowing (Double check.)
Gagging (Totally have done that.)
Chokes easily (Yes...and not because I eat too fast or anything.)
Head drop due to weak spinal and neck muscles (Sometimes!)
Muscle cramps (YES! The kind that wake me up out of bed.)
Muscle weakness that slowly gets worse (Well, no, but when I had the flu..yes.)
Paralysis (Not yet, but I'm thinking not wanting to excercise is a start.)
Speech problems, such as a slow or abnormal speech pattern (Abnormal? Yes.)
Voice changes, hoarseness (Every day when I wake up! UGH!)
Additional symptoms that may be associated with this disease:
Drooling (Sometimes, when I sleep.)
Muscle contractions (Eyelid twitching?)
Muscle spasms (Nope, this is the eyelid twitching one, right?)
Ankle, feet, and leg swelling (YES...just read this post...Cankles?)
Weight loss (Darn it. Deal breaker.)
Well, as you can see...I ruled myself out...with the last one.
But here...here is the one that made me think....ready?
Some patients have trouble controlling crying or laughing. This is sometimes called "emotional incontinence."
I can finally put a name with a face. I mean my face. I have that! I TOTALLY have that. "Emotional Incontinence."
I cannot control my laughing. Even when it is inappropriate.
And crying? Well, just this weekend, I erupted in such a snot cry (you know the hysterical out of breath kind) that I had to leave the building...step outside and practice my old Lamaze breathing...that's it! Emotional Incontinence!!!!
Now, dear ones, what on earth am I supposed to do with that information?
What kind of products do they make for THAT? I mean, am I going to have to put in cry catheters? Take a laugh suppressant?
Great. One more thing to worry about. Sigh.
Seriously...if anyone sees the infomercial for the products that can spare me a lifetime of embarrassment because of my Emotional Incontinence...will you let me know? And would someone Google if the supplies for that disorder come in plain, unmarked, brown packaging? Because, after this one, I am afraid I am swearing off of Google.
Sincerely,
Your Googling, "EmoInco" Maid.
(I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now...should I Google that?)
Friday, September 25, 2009
Way TMI....seriously.
As most of you know, I have lots of kids. Half and half. Half boys, half girls. I mean each child is either a boy or a girl..and we have equal numbers of each. (Not that my kids are half boy/half girls....that would be creepy.)
In that mix of children, or should I say, on top of that mix, lie two teenagers.
(Drop to your knees and pray right now, would ya?)
So, here is where it gets tricky.
I am all up in their kool-aid. Literally. I like it that way. I like to know what kind of conversations they are having and with whom. I think it is my job. I think I need to know and watch and read and snoop. I have their passwords to their facebook pages and emails and I often do text-message interceptions and read their texts. (I've even been known to text their friends posing as my child...just to see what kind of response I get.)
(Sidenote: Let that be a lesson to all teens out there...if you are texting someone...never assume it is reaching your target audience and always assume that your friends' parents are reading...because they probably are!)
With that being said, let me tell you about a recent experience I had with my, uh-hem, teenage son. Who by all accounts is an upstanding, wonderful boy who helps with the family, mops the floors, cleans toilets, changes diapers and truly...TRULY...loves his baby brothers...and for now, tolerates his sisters. (I have accepted that tolerance may be all we get between siblings for a while.) This child of mine is respectful, most of the time, and usually always to anyone who doesn't live in our house. (Unless you are a Wal-mart employee...then all bets are off. Long story.)
So, imagine my surprise, when my sweet, respectful son was having a facebook "private" instant message conversation with a friend. They were talking about their plans over the weekend and were "bragging" about who had the hotter girlfriend. They were even scheming that they would tell me one thing and do another. (Duh...not the brightest bulbs in the box...I mean, hello...I read this stuff!!!) So, I had to confront my child. I had to tell him that I would absolutely take away privileges and all of his technology if he could not learn to be respectful of my rules and be honest with me. (The "scheme" had to do with going to see his girlfriend this weekend. Which I would never disallow...except under the circumstances...she was to be babysitting and he is not allowed over there!!) We had an even further conversation about how he was not only supposed to respect my rules, but the rules of other authority figures. And he was encouraged not to do anything that would get his girlfriend in trouble, especially if he cared about her.
And then I realized that he was 16. SIXTEEN! I remember how "deeply" I cared about my boyfriends at that age. How I really didn't care so much about whether any of us got in trouble...I just wanted to make out.
I know. Shocking. The Maid used to like to make out. And I was good at it. (And sure, I might be good at it again, if I could just tune out this dog barking, kid crying, washing machine dinging, dinner burning, tv blaring, and phone ringing life of mine.)
Despite my own experiences, I pulled up my big-girl panties (figuratively speaking of course) and snapped right back into my lecture. "You need to remember that this young lady is a member of our church and that you have a responsibility to God to respect her and her family. You need to make sure that you are above reproach and are always encouraging her to be honest." Blah Blah Blah.
I was even getting annoyed listening to myself.
Why? Because...I couldn't erase the thoughts from my brain of when I was sixteen. All I wanted to do was go to parties, and date, and make-out, and do wild and crazy things. (Let me clarify...I was not into drugs, and only drank on a couple of occasions before it was legal to do so, plus I was an honor student and I played the part.) So, how did I get here? How did I get to be so "parental?" It can be such a challenge to reconcile how I lived and what I did, with how I want my children to live. (And I wasn't even that bad!)
By my sons age however, I was kissing boys. And I mean "KISSING" boys...with a capital K, and maybe a little tongue. (I know...thus the blog post title..."TMI.")
Here I have this great boy...who hasn't even kissed a girl yet. (I know this because of how he spends his time and who he spends it with, plus we have a really open relationship for the most part. And, well, I want to believe that it is true.)
I got to thinking about how I need to let up on him again and let him find his own way. How I need to encourage him, but back off a bit. I mean, I've never really read or found anything all that disturbing in his texts or conversations.
Until last night. Sigh.
You just don't realize how hormonal and competitive and downright crass teenage boys can be until you have a voyeuristic look into a "private" conversation they are having. Let's just say that the two of them went on and on about who had the hotter girlfriend (normal) and how they had to wait a minute to finish their conversation because "I gotta p**s" (tacky...but probably normal for "I gotta go pee"...I mean how cool is that to say?) and then the shocker...
"Yeah, I'd hit that."
Excuse me? What did he just say?
My son's friend just told my son that a sweet young girl that they were talking to at church was good looking enough to "hit" that.
"Hit?" I mean we are not violent people.
And "that"...what does that mean? (Yes, I know, but I had to ask him.)
It went a little something like this:
Me: "Son, what exactly does "hit that" mean?"
Son: "You know."
Me: "No, why don't you tell me?"
Son: "Like you would do her."
Me: "Do her what? Her nails?"
Son: (laughing) "No"
Me: "Well, I'm sure you don't mean THAT...as in IT."
Son: "We were just messin around mom."
Me: "I should hope so. We just don't hit. Or do THAT. You hear me?"
Son: (still laughing) "Yeah."
Me: "Wait a minute...what is this comment...where your friend says hit it and forget it?"
Son: (rolling eyes) "Mooommmm" (In an annoyed whine.)
Me: "No, really. What does that mean?"
Son: "That you would go out with her and kiss her and stuff, but not really date her."
Me: "AND STUFF?"
Son: "Yeah."
Me: (Shrinking in my chair.) "So, I suppose the whole respect women conversation went out the window...and you are just a skirt chaser now?"
Son: "I didn't say it, _____ did."
Me: "But that is YOUR friend and you had the conversation and went along with it."
Son: "He's a nice kid, we were just playin' around."
Me: "That's what I'm afraid of. Playin' around."
Son: "Mom, I'm not going to do anything stupid. I like (so and so) and she likes me and I only want to date her right now. Don't worry."
Me: (Tossing back two Tylenol) "Okay. Clean it up. You don't want any other parents to read this stuff."
Son: "Aight."
(Yes...he said..."aight" Not alright, which would be proper and mature, but he went with the more socially acceptable gangster (excuse me...gangsta) version and said "aight.")
(I don't remember living in Compton...although I do remember a brief NWA music fetish. In highschool. And maybe my first year of college. But that was long before my son was in-utero. Do you think my eggs were affected by that?)
When did my sweet little boy turn into a saggy-jeaned, skater shoe wearing, horror movie watching, and babe-bagging "gangsta?"
I mean it was just yesterday that I was making out with the 80's version of that.
Now...if all of that wasn't too much information, you should know that my 13 year old daughter announced to me this week that she became a woman (yep...aunt flow...poor baby) and that her girl parts are lopsided.
I know. If I could just find that flux capacitor I would travel back to a simpler time. It was so much easier to be the teenager than to raise them.
Sleep well, blog world. And remember, today's teenagers are tomorrows "Maids and Butlers." Sigh.
The Completely Over-informed Maid
In that mix of children, or should I say, on top of that mix, lie two teenagers.
(Drop to your knees and pray right now, would ya?)
So, here is where it gets tricky.
I am all up in their kool-aid. Literally. I like it that way. I like to know what kind of conversations they are having and with whom. I think it is my job. I think I need to know and watch and read and snoop. I have their passwords to their facebook pages and emails and I often do text-message interceptions and read their texts. (I've even been known to text their friends posing as my child...just to see what kind of response I get.)
(Sidenote: Let that be a lesson to all teens out there...if you are texting someone...never assume it is reaching your target audience and always assume that your friends' parents are reading...because they probably are!)
With that being said, let me tell you about a recent experience I had with my, uh-hem, teenage son. Who by all accounts is an upstanding, wonderful boy who helps with the family, mops the floors, cleans toilets, changes diapers and truly...TRULY...loves his baby brothers...and for now, tolerates his sisters. (I have accepted that tolerance may be all we get between siblings for a while.) This child of mine is respectful, most of the time, and usually always to anyone who doesn't live in our house. (Unless you are a Wal-mart employee...then all bets are off. Long story.)
So, imagine my surprise, when my sweet, respectful son was having a facebook "private" instant message conversation with a friend. They were talking about their plans over the weekend and were "bragging" about who had the hotter girlfriend. They were even scheming that they would tell me one thing and do another. (Duh...not the brightest bulbs in the box...I mean, hello...I read this stuff!!!) So, I had to confront my child. I had to tell him that I would absolutely take away privileges and all of his technology if he could not learn to be respectful of my rules and be honest with me. (The "scheme" had to do with going to see his girlfriend this weekend. Which I would never disallow...except under the circumstances...she was to be babysitting and he is not allowed over there!!) We had an even further conversation about how he was not only supposed to respect my rules, but the rules of other authority figures. And he was encouraged not to do anything that would get his girlfriend in trouble, especially if he cared about her.
And then I realized that he was 16. SIXTEEN! I remember how "deeply" I cared about my boyfriends at that age. How I really didn't care so much about whether any of us got in trouble...I just wanted to make out.
I know. Shocking. The Maid used to like to make out. And I was good at it. (And sure, I might be good at it again, if I could just tune out this dog barking, kid crying, washing machine dinging, dinner burning, tv blaring, and phone ringing life of mine.)
Despite my own experiences, I pulled up my big-girl panties (figuratively speaking of course) and snapped right back into my lecture. "You need to remember that this young lady is a member of our church and that you have a responsibility to God to respect her and her family. You need to make sure that you are above reproach and are always encouraging her to be honest." Blah Blah Blah.
I was even getting annoyed listening to myself.
Why? Because...I couldn't erase the thoughts from my brain of when I was sixteen. All I wanted to do was go to parties, and date, and make-out, and do wild and crazy things. (Let me clarify...I was not into drugs, and only drank on a couple of occasions before it was legal to do so, plus I was an honor student and I played the part.) So, how did I get here? How did I get to be so "parental?" It can be such a challenge to reconcile how I lived and what I did, with how I want my children to live. (And I wasn't even that bad!)
By my sons age however, I was kissing boys. And I mean "KISSING" boys...with a capital K, and maybe a little tongue. (I know...thus the blog post title..."TMI.")
Here I have this great boy...who hasn't even kissed a girl yet. (I know this because of how he spends his time and who he spends it with, plus we have a really open relationship for the most part. And, well, I want to believe that it is true.)
I got to thinking about how I need to let up on him again and let him find his own way. How I need to encourage him, but back off a bit. I mean, I've never really read or found anything all that disturbing in his texts or conversations.
Until last night. Sigh.
You just don't realize how hormonal and competitive and downright crass teenage boys can be until you have a voyeuristic look into a "private" conversation they are having. Let's just say that the two of them went on and on about who had the hotter girlfriend (normal) and how they had to wait a minute to finish their conversation because "I gotta p**s" (tacky...but probably normal for "I gotta go pee"...I mean how cool is that to say?) and then the shocker...
"Yeah, I'd hit that."
Excuse me? What did he just say?
My son's friend just told my son that a sweet young girl that they were talking to at church was good looking enough to "hit" that.
"Hit?" I mean we are not violent people.
And "that"...what does that mean? (Yes, I know, but I had to ask him.)
It went a little something like this:
Me: "Son, what exactly does "hit that" mean?"
Son: "You know."
Me: "No, why don't you tell me?"
Son: "Like you would do her."
Me: "Do her what? Her nails?"
Son: (laughing) "No"
Me: "Well, I'm sure you don't mean THAT...as in IT."
Son: "We were just messin around mom."
Me: "I should hope so. We just don't hit. Or do THAT. You hear me?"
Son: (still laughing) "Yeah."
Me: "Wait a minute...what is this comment...where your friend says hit it and forget it?"
Son: (rolling eyes) "Mooommmm" (In an annoyed whine.)
Me: "No, really. What does that mean?"
Son: "That you would go out with her and kiss her and stuff, but not really date her."
Me: "AND STUFF?"
Son: "Yeah."
Me: (Shrinking in my chair.) "So, I suppose the whole respect women conversation went out the window...and you are just a skirt chaser now?"
Son: "I didn't say it, _____ did."
Me: "But that is YOUR friend and you had the conversation and went along with it."
Son: "He's a nice kid, we were just playin' around."
Me: "That's what I'm afraid of. Playin' around."
Son: "Mom, I'm not going to do anything stupid. I like (so and so) and she likes me and I only want to date her right now. Don't worry."
Me: (Tossing back two Tylenol) "Okay. Clean it up. You don't want any other parents to read this stuff."
Son: "Aight."
(Yes...he said..."aight" Not alright, which would be proper and mature, but he went with the more socially acceptable gangster (excuse me...gangsta) version and said "aight.")
(I don't remember living in Compton...although I do remember a brief NWA music fetish. In highschool. And maybe my first year of college. But that was long before my son was in-utero. Do you think my eggs were affected by that?)
When did my sweet little boy turn into a saggy-jeaned, skater shoe wearing, horror movie watching, and babe-bagging "gangsta?"
I mean it was just yesterday that I was making out with the 80's version of that.
Now...if all of that wasn't too much information, you should know that my 13 year old daughter announced to me this week that she became a woman (yep...aunt flow...poor baby) and that her girl parts are lopsided.
I know. If I could just find that flux capacitor I would travel back to a simpler time. It was so much easier to be the teenager than to raise them.
Sleep well, blog world. And remember, today's teenagers are tomorrows "Maids and Butlers." Sigh.
The Completely Over-informed Maid
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Please press one....
Dear APS,
I am writing to you today to let you know that I think your prices suck.
If that is not eloquent enough for you, let me rephrase that.
To Whom it May Concern:
In light of the recent economic downturn, I would expect each and every one of our bill collectors and/or creditors to be making some concessions to help the general public to be able to continue use of their services. I would not expect, at this juncture, an increase in the price of said services.
I realize that we live in a desert. I also realize that in the desert it gets hot. Dang hot. But it does make it just a tad bit suspicious when we go out of town for 14 days in one of the hottest months of the year and turn up our A/C to run only when it reaches temperatures of 84 degrees. Interestingly enough, during that month...the cost of my service was more than the same month last year when we were home cranking the air conditioning 24/7. My service the following month, when we were home 24/7 was also the same price as the month we were gone.
I do believe there is some bill padding going on with your company. I don't think that even a family of 10 could possibly use $650.00 worth of electricity in one month. I believe your company to be a monopolistic and greedy corporation and if I had a choice, I would switch.
This is America, darn it, and we should have a choice. CHOICE! Bring me a choice! (And by choice, I don't mean do I want electricity or not. Hello? Desert? We have to have A/C and electricity. But were there a choice, I am pretty sure that "they" would not be charging me $650.00 for one month of service. There is no "equalizing" that.)
So, in the meantime, until said CHOICE arises, I am paying my bill under protest. I have not yet begun to fight! (Okay, maybe I have. But just know, that I am one electric bill paying APS hater.)
Wishing the sweat of a thousand camels to infest your armpits,
The Maid
PS - And on a side note, could you please get an employee that I could speak with that has a half of a brain? Oh, and that maybe speaks English. Not English as a second language? Thank you.
Disclaimer: Again, with the disclaimers. I know. I know. But here goes:
No offense intended to anyone who works for said electric company. I realize you are just doing your job. No offense to anyone who has only half a brain, I realize it is not your fault. And no offense intended if you speak English as your second language. I mean you no disrespect as I speak with you and begin speaking like you. Something strange happens to me when I am listening to other people's accents...I somehow morph into an accented individual. I am not making fun of you, really.
I am writing to you today to let you know that I think your prices suck.
If that is not eloquent enough for you, let me rephrase that.
To Whom it May Concern:
In light of the recent economic downturn, I would expect each and every one of our bill collectors and/or creditors to be making some concessions to help the general public to be able to continue use of their services. I would not expect, at this juncture, an increase in the price of said services.
I realize that we live in a desert. I also realize that in the desert it gets hot. Dang hot. But it does make it just a tad bit suspicious when we go out of town for 14 days in one of the hottest months of the year and turn up our A/C to run only when it reaches temperatures of 84 degrees. Interestingly enough, during that month...the cost of my service was more than the same month last year when we were home cranking the air conditioning 24/7. My service the following month, when we were home 24/7 was also the same price as the month we were gone.
I do believe there is some bill padding going on with your company. I don't think that even a family of 10 could possibly use $650.00 worth of electricity in one month. I believe your company to be a monopolistic and greedy corporation and if I had a choice, I would switch.
This is America, darn it, and we should have a choice. CHOICE! Bring me a choice! (And by choice, I don't mean do I want electricity or not. Hello? Desert? We have to have A/C and electricity. But were there a choice, I am pretty sure that "they" would not be charging me $650.00 for one month of service. There is no "equalizing" that.)
So, in the meantime, until said CHOICE arises, I am paying my bill under protest. I have not yet begun to fight! (Okay, maybe I have. But just know, that I am one electric bill paying APS hater.)
Wishing the sweat of a thousand camels to infest your armpits,
The Maid
PS - And on a side note, could you please get an employee that I could speak with that has a half of a brain? Oh, and that maybe speaks English. Not English as a second language? Thank you.
Disclaimer: Again, with the disclaimers. I know. I know. But here goes:
No offense intended to anyone who works for said electric company. I realize you are just doing your job. No offense to anyone who has only half a brain, I realize it is not your fault. And no offense intended if you speak English as your second language. I mean you no disrespect as I speak with you and begin speaking like you. Something strange happens to me when I am listening to other people's accents...I somehow morph into an accented individual. I am not making fun of you, really.
Monday, September 7, 2009
On a lighter note...
Now I have seen everything....
While on a drive with my hubby to the ghetto of our metropolis (it was for his 2nd job)...I sat patiently while he entered a CVS pharmacy. The usual creepy things were in place...the "we prosecute shoplifters" sign, the random and ubiquitous spray painted gang symbols, the "no backpacks...leave your backpack with the cashier" sign, and the exciting declaration..."We now sell bread!" Woo hoo. Because when I need a loaf, I am running to this pharmacy...instead of the 24 hour grocery store by my house. ??? (I guess if you are rolling with your homies on a drive by, it could be convenient...but whatever.)
But this....THIS...my friends was a diamond in the rough...and dang it if I didn't take a picture...because I am pretty sure that I could have had my five minutes of fame on Leno with it....
"Milwaukees Best....30 cans....$12.99" and strategically placed in bold lettering these precious words....
"FAMILY PACK"
Yep. I am afraid it is a Labor Day all time low when you gather the kids around the BBQ, inflate the bounce house, and bask in the triple digit heat....and all the while you AND the kids...share a cold one.
(What a great country we live in.)
And secondly....in case you were wondering...as I lay sick over this long weekend...unable to bounce, BBQ, and bust open a brewski....I got word of an upcoming show. One that we all might want to take a look at. Ready?
"Amish Gone Wild."
Not even joking.
It made me wonder...how wild is wild...when you are Amish.
Maybe some upcoming episodes in the works....
"Jedadiah risks jail time...by actually plugging in the Amish made fireplace." (You know you have seen those commercials. Heck, how many of you have actually ordered one...that is what I want to know?)
Or could it be this wild...
"Jakob defiles his family name...by finishing high school! Gasp!"
Or maybe the next episode would focus on the notorious Amish family and their excommunication from the Amish society....because the hubby decided to take off the hat and shave his beard...and his wayward wife dennounced quilting.
I'm sure that for the season finale...the entire Amish village goes out and buys insurance, and the village matriarch throws away the original friendship bread.
I know. I can't wait for the series either. I will be popping some corn and pulling up a piece of couch for that one.
Honestly, at this rate...anything is better than John and Kate plus 8.
Have a good week friends!
Happy Labor Day!
The Maid
Disclaimer: NO disprespect intended to families who drink beer together, those who live near the CVS in the ghetto, bread seeking homies on a drive by, and of course the Amish. Who I deeply respect but don't come near understanding. Farm on Jedidiah.
While on a drive with my hubby to the ghetto of our metropolis (it was for his 2nd job)...I sat patiently while he entered a CVS pharmacy. The usual creepy things were in place...the "we prosecute shoplifters" sign, the random and ubiquitous spray painted gang symbols, the "no backpacks...leave your backpack with the cashier" sign, and the exciting declaration..."We now sell bread!" Woo hoo. Because when I need a loaf, I am running to this pharmacy...instead of the 24 hour grocery store by my house. ??? (I guess if you are rolling with your homies on a drive by, it could be convenient...but whatever.)
But this....THIS...my friends was a diamond in the rough...and dang it if I didn't take a picture...because I am pretty sure that I could have had my five minutes of fame on Leno with it....
"Milwaukees Best....30 cans....$12.99" and strategically placed in bold lettering these precious words....
"FAMILY PACK"
Yep. I am afraid it is a Labor Day all time low when you gather the kids around the BBQ, inflate the bounce house, and bask in the triple digit heat....and all the while you AND the kids...share a cold one.
(What a great country we live in.)
And secondly....in case you were wondering...as I lay sick over this long weekend...unable to bounce, BBQ, and bust open a brewski....I got word of an upcoming show. One that we all might want to take a look at. Ready?
"Amish Gone Wild."
Not even joking.
It made me wonder...how wild is wild...when you are Amish.
Maybe some upcoming episodes in the works....
"Jedadiah risks jail time...by actually plugging in the Amish made fireplace." (You know you have seen those commercials. Heck, how many of you have actually ordered one...that is what I want to know?)
Or could it be this wild...
"Jakob defiles his family name...by finishing high school! Gasp!"
Or maybe the next episode would focus on the notorious Amish family and their excommunication from the Amish society....because the hubby decided to take off the hat and shave his beard...and his wayward wife dennounced quilting.
I'm sure that for the season finale...the entire Amish village goes out and buys insurance, and the village matriarch throws away the original friendship bread.
I know. I can't wait for the series either. I will be popping some corn and pulling up a piece of couch for that one.
Honestly, at this rate...anything is better than John and Kate plus 8.
Have a good week friends!
Happy Labor Day!
The Maid
Disclaimer: NO disprespect intended to families who drink beer together, those who live near the CVS in the ghetto, bread seeking homies on a drive by, and of course the Amish. Who I deeply respect but don't come near understanding. Farm on Jedidiah.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Nothing else matters....
I took my family to Peter Piper Pizza tonight. I stressed about what I would be wearing. I stressed about how my girls' hair looked. Was it brushed? Was it neatly put up in a pony tail? Did my daughter have on too much make-up?
I yelled at my husband (playfully) that he had dressed my baby in the outfit I just threw in the goodwill pile only hours before. He (the baby) looked like a nerd. The two year-old cried as I "scrubbed" the marker off of his face and arms. (His spare time is often spent drawing colorful road maps all over his bare extremities.) Oh, and my furniture. My teenage son didn't want to go with us. Mumbling something about schoolwork (yeah right) and of course having to be seen with the WHOLE family. While I shook my head in disapproval as his pants sank well below the plaid plastered butt of his boxers, I was even more discouraged to see my 11 year old son wearing a shirt that had todays lunch wiped on it. (Which you could barely see under all of the dog hair.)
The dog, I might add, that has peed on my freshly cleaned carpets, pooped on my couch in front of company, and wanders aimlessly sniffing out scraps all over my kitchen. And might I add, she finds them. Big ones. Entire strips of waffle, toast crusts, and whole grapes. Among other lovely tidbits. And that is impressive, since the other family pet, the 9 month old, has usually gobbled up all of the big pieces.
I am discouraged. My body is warn out, stretched out, and sad. My house is cluttered, dirty, and tired. And well, I already described the kids. My husband is neglected. We are financially struggling and our marriage has not been nurtured with date nights, time alone, family outings, or whatever the needs may be.
All of this is overwhelming. Is it everything, well no, but it is a big part of who and what defines us. It is a big part of whether or not I feel I can hold my head high when I run into people who know me now, or who knew me years ago...it is the part of my life that I can cling to and say..."Yeah, but look at what I have accomplished. I have this great house, this immaculate place where I raise my family. I have these perfectly coiffed children dressed in matching outfits and designer collections from Gymboree...which just shout 'My mom pays attention to the details!' And let me introduce you to my perfect husband whose perfect job and our perfect marriage affords us twice yearly vacations alone!"
Throughout our last 18 month struggle with finances, kids, marriage, friends, and our own health and our own bodies, I have held on to the fact that I want that dream. I want that perfect life, those perfect children, the perfect circumstances, and the perfect person to share it with.
Today I was reminded that none of it matters. All of those things, those facades that we wear, none of it matters. We are only here for such a short time. We only have the people that God has trusted to us for such a short time. We only have imperfection for such a short time.
Why do we try so hard to run from what is so real? Why do we strive to be and have those things that would impress the people that don't matter?
Why would I rather fix my daughters hair how I think the world wants to see it, than to let her proudly wear it the way she wants it to be? Am I really that fragile that I am afraid that I will be judged by her messy head? Jesus, let it not be.
Why do we look past what is so perfectly given to us, in order to look for what has not been provided?
Today, a young woman that I personally never knew, but admittedly prayed for not often enough, lost her battle with cancer. She was young. Her family is young. They lost a mother. A wife. A daughter.
I bet they would tell me that if I had problems that money could solve, I had no problems at all.
I bet they would tell me that if I had problems that a hairbrush or some laundry soap would fix, I had no problems at all.
I bet they would tell me that instead of seeing the clothes, I should see the faces.
I bet they would tell me that it doesn't matter if my child lights up the room, but they should absolutely be my bright spot.
I bet they would tell me when it came to my family, instead of worrying about how much I weighed, I should worry about how much we played.
I bet they would tell me that instead of worrying about the dog mess, I should hear how much the kids laugh when they play with her.
I bet they would tell me that my family, my husband, and even myself, should be full of life...light in a dark place...and should be my focus from this day forward.
Not that I perform for them perfectly, but that I love them absolutely.
That if I should be called home to Jesus, they are left with no doubt. Only love.
You know what, I took my family to Peter Piper Pizza tonight.
And nothing else matters.
The Maid
PS - Be praying for the Miller family. That they are left only with love and nothing else.
I yelled at my husband (playfully) that he had dressed my baby in the outfit I just threw in the goodwill pile only hours before. He (the baby) looked like a nerd. The two year-old cried as I "scrubbed" the marker off of his face and arms. (His spare time is often spent drawing colorful road maps all over his bare extremities.) Oh, and my furniture. My teenage son didn't want to go with us. Mumbling something about schoolwork (yeah right) and of course having to be seen with the WHOLE family. While I shook my head in disapproval as his pants sank well below the plaid plastered butt of his boxers, I was even more discouraged to see my 11 year old son wearing a shirt that had todays lunch wiped on it. (Which you could barely see under all of the dog hair.)
The dog, I might add, that has peed on my freshly cleaned carpets, pooped on my couch in front of company, and wanders aimlessly sniffing out scraps all over my kitchen. And might I add, she finds them. Big ones. Entire strips of waffle, toast crusts, and whole grapes. Among other lovely tidbits. And that is impressive, since the other family pet, the 9 month old, has usually gobbled up all of the big pieces.
I am discouraged. My body is warn out, stretched out, and sad. My house is cluttered, dirty, and tired. And well, I already described the kids. My husband is neglected. We are financially struggling and our marriage has not been nurtured with date nights, time alone, family outings, or whatever the needs may be.
All of this is overwhelming. Is it everything, well no, but it is a big part of who and what defines us. It is a big part of whether or not I feel I can hold my head high when I run into people who know me now, or who knew me years ago...it is the part of my life that I can cling to and say..."Yeah, but look at what I have accomplished. I have this great house, this immaculate place where I raise my family. I have these perfectly coiffed children dressed in matching outfits and designer collections from Gymboree...which just shout 'My mom pays attention to the details!' And let me introduce you to my perfect husband whose perfect job and our perfect marriage affords us twice yearly vacations alone!"
Throughout our last 18 month struggle with finances, kids, marriage, friends, and our own health and our own bodies, I have held on to the fact that I want that dream. I want that perfect life, those perfect children, the perfect circumstances, and the perfect person to share it with.
Today I was reminded that none of it matters. All of those things, those facades that we wear, none of it matters. We are only here for such a short time. We only have the people that God has trusted to us for such a short time. We only have imperfection for such a short time.
Why do we try so hard to run from what is so real? Why do we strive to be and have those things that would impress the people that don't matter?
Why would I rather fix my daughters hair how I think the world wants to see it, than to let her proudly wear it the way she wants it to be? Am I really that fragile that I am afraid that I will be judged by her messy head? Jesus, let it not be.
Why do we look past what is so perfectly given to us, in order to look for what has not been provided?
Today, a young woman that I personally never knew, but admittedly prayed for not often enough, lost her battle with cancer. She was young. Her family is young. They lost a mother. A wife. A daughter.
I bet they would tell me that if I had problems that money could solve, I had no problems at all.
I bet they would tell me that if I had problems that a hairbrush or some laundry soap would fix, I had no problems at all.
I bet they would tell me that instead of seeing the clothes, I should see the faces.
I bet they would tell me that it doesn't matter if my child lights up the room, but they should absolutely be my bright spot.
I bet they would tell me when it came to my family, instead of worrying about how much I weighed, I should worry about how much we played.
I bet they would tell me that instead of worrying about the dog mess, I should hear how much the kids laugh when they play with her.
I bet they would tell me that my family, my husband, and even myself, should be full of life...light in a dark place...and should be my focus from this day forward.
Not that I perform for them perfectly, but that I love them absolutely.
That if I should be called home to Jesus, they are left with no doubt. Only love.
You know what, I took my family to Peter Piper Pizza tonight.
And nothing else matters.
The Maid
PS - Be praying for the Miller family. That they are left only with love and nothing else.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Ten Truths...
Okay, since I have disappeared from blogging, and have been tagged by the faboo Queen April, I believe I am supposed to confess 10 truths about me. I hope I do this correctly...here goes:
1) My hubby met me in a bar, and was instantly attracted to me as I was hugging his best friend. I blew him off. It was only a little later when he knew it was true love as I was "table dancing" on top of a huge speaker at the same bar. Aww, the beauty of such a classy love story.
2) We recently bought a dog, at my insisting, and I can't stand her now. She bites my babies with her stupid little puppy teeth and has peed on my carpet. The honeymoon is so over. Anyone want a 4 month old chug?
3) I don't have a problem turning into my mother. She is, in fact a really wonderful person...we have some pretty distinct differences and get on each other's nerves, but I wouldn't mind being more like her in some ways. What I do have a problem with is that I seem to be bypassing turning into my mom...and going straight to grandma. Who turned the music up so loud, where did this sciatica pain come from, and why do I want to put on a moo moo and walk around without a bra?
4) I recently had the distinct pleasure (sarcasm) of running in to an old highschool boyfriend...and all I could see in his blue eyes was...dang, she got fat. He left the event we were both at without even as much as a goodbye. Jerk. Yep, I may be fat, but you are still single...nearly 20 years after highschool. Standards too high or is it that you really are a superficial jerk?
5) I lost sleep over number four. I know I shouldn't care. My hubby loves me just the way I am, but I am not proud of how I look or what I have become. This was not the dream I had for my life. It is a sad day when you realize that only YOU have he power to change your life. I have been waiting all of this time for God to do it for me. I think He said that I should get up and do it myself. Sigh.
6) I am blogging right now because my house is a pig sty and I want to avoid it.
7) I have cankles right now. I never have cankles. No matter how fat I have been over the years, I have always taken pride in my thin ankles. I have either been on my feet too much, am in early kidney failure, or have crossed the fat person point of no return. Let's pray it is the first one.
8) I am a truly sucky judge of character. The people that I usually trust and confide in burn me. Often. I guess that comes from wearing my heart and my opinions on my sleeve. Or just having a really wide open mouth. Either way, I want to learn to reserve information until I truly know a person well, but I know that it goes against the fiber of my being. I am, and always have been, a what you see is what you get person. Easy to figure out? No. Easy to know where I stand? Yes.
The up side of this...people have sometimes surprised me with who they are in a good way. The person that I thought couldn't stand me...reached out and was very thoughtful and interested in my life. The person that I thought was not someone I wanted to hang out with, has become one of my closest friends. The people that I thought were living less like Jesus have turned out to be the best example of Him.
9) I truly want to run a marathon. I know that I probably never will. When it comes to excercise...I chicken out. And I think I carry a little contempt in my heart for the people who do it well.
10) I hate when people think they know me and know what I will think/do/say...when they truly don't know at all. (Just because I love humor, sarcasm, and laughter...doesn't mean that I can't be serious, spiritual, and deep. I can dig a good snot cry from time to time!)
:) Thanks Queen for tagging me...I will be poking pins in my queen voodoo doll when you set sail on your cruise in 11 short days. (Confession no. 11.....yes, I am jealous. Sounds like a marvelous time!)
Sincerely,
Your truth confessing Maid :)
1) My hubby met me in a bar, and was instantly attracted to me as I was hugging his best friend. I blew him off. It was only a little later when he knew it was true love as I was "table dancing" on top of a huge speaker at the same bar. Aww, the beauty of such a classy love story.
2) We recently bought a dog, at my insisting, and I can't stand her now. She bites my babies with her stupid little puppy teeth and has peed on my carpet. The honeymoon is so over. Anyone want a 4 month old chug?
3) I don't have a problem turning into my mother. She is, in fact a really wonderful person...we have some pretty distinct differences and get on each other's nerves, but I wouldn't mind being more like her in some ways. What I do have a problem with is that I seem to be bypassing turning into my mom...and going straight to grandma. Who turned the music up so loud, where did this sciatica pain come from, and why do I want to put on a moo moo and walk around without a bra?
4) I recently had the distinct pleasure (sarcasm) of running in to an old highschool boyfriend...and all I could see in his blue eyes was...dang, she got fat. He left the event we were both at without even as much as a goodbye. Jerk. Yep, I may be fat, but you are still single...nearly 20 years after highschool. Standards too high or is it that you really are a superficial jerk?
5) I lost sleep over number four. I know I shouldn't care. My hubby loves me just the way I am, but I am not proud of how I look or what I have become. This was not the dream I had for my life. It is a sad day when you realize that only YOU have he power to change your life. I have been waiting all of this time for God to do it for me. I think He said that I should get up and do it myself. Sigh.
6) I am blogging right now because my house is a pig sty and I want to avoid it.
7) I have cankles right now. I never have cankles. No matter how fat I have been over the years, I have always taken pride in my thin ankles. I have either been on my feet too much, am in early kidney failure, or have crossed the fat person point of no return. Let's pray it is the first one.
8) I am a truly sucky judge of character. The people that I usually trust and confide in burn me. Often. I guess that comes from wearing my heart and my opinions on my sleeve. Or just having a really wide open mouth. Either way, I want to learn to reserve information until I truly know a person well, but I know that it goes against the fiber of my being. I am, and always have been, a what you see is what you get person. Easy to figure out? No. Easy to know where I stand? Yes.
The up side of this...people have sometimes surprised me with who they are in a good way. The person that I thought couldn't stand me...reached out and was very thoughtful and interested in my life. The person that I thought was not someone I wanted to hang out with, has become one of my closest friends. The people that I thought were living less like Jesus have turned out to be the best example of Him.
9) I truly want to run a marathon. I know that I probably never will. When it comes to excercise...I chicken out. And I think I carry a little contempt in my heart for the people who do it well.
10) I hate when people think they know me and know what I will think/do/say...when they truly don't know at all. (Just because I love humor, sarcasm, and laughter...doesn't mean that I can't be serious, spiritual, and deep. I can dig a good snot cry from time to time!)
:) Thanks Queen for tagging me...I will be poking pins in my queen voodoo doll when you set sail on your cruise in 11 short days. (Confession no. 11.....yes, I am jealous. Sounds like a marvelous time!)
Sincerely,
Your truth confessing Maid :)
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
This is gonna be short...and stupid. But it has to be asked.
WHO took my black capri pants?
And WHO, WHO...left two pairs of women's underwear here?
I am apologizing right now for this implied profanity, but...WTF?
No one in this house of 10 people will own up. (Okay..so the cherub is only 8 months and can't talk...but he is awfully fat..so maybe he ate my pants.)
Seriously...how does a pair of perfectly good pants disappear...especially when I keep close tabs on my 3 outfits that fit me. And how do two pairs of non-matching...almost same-size-ish...women's underwear make their way into my house without anyone noticing someone leaving without them?
I even had the nerve to ask my dear butler if he wouldn't mind asking his girlfriend to return my pants and stop leaving her underwear behind.
Seriously, I don't care if the hubbs has a girl on the side...I mean if that is the sin path he chooses, well, may God smite him. But...and I mean capital BUT...could the chick have the decency to not leave the evidence behind and wear my favorite pants home?
Sigh.
Until Perry Mason solves this one...I guess it is time to buy some stupid size "uh hem" pants.
Have a blessed week,
The Maid
(In case anyone is wondering...I truly don't suspect the butler...I just can't think of another explanation. I mean HOW does other adult girl underwear get here? Any theories?)
And WHO, WHO...left two pairs of women's underwear here?
I am apologizing right now for this implied profanity, but...WTF?
No one in this house of 10 people will own up. (Okay..so the cherub is only 8 months and can't talk...but he is awfully fat..so maybe he ate my pants.)
Seriously...how does a pair of perfectly good pants disappear...especially when I keep close tabs on my 3 outfits that fit me. And how do two pairs of non-matching...almost same-size-ish...women's underwear make their way into my house without anyone noticing someone leaving without them?
I even had the nerve to ask my dear butler if he wouldn't mind asking his girlfriend to return my pants and stop leaving her underwear behind.
Seriously, I don't care if the hubbs has a girl on the side...I mean if that is the sin path he chooses, well, may God smite him. But...and I mean capital BUT...could the chick have the decency to not leave the evidence behind and wear my favorite pants home?
Sigh.
Until Perry Mason solves this one...I guess it is time to buy some stupid size "uh hem" pants.
Have a blessed week,
The Maid
(In case anyone is wondering...I truly don't suspect the butler...I just can't think of another explanation. I mean HOW does other adult girl underwear get here? Any theories?)
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I'm tired...of...
Hello friendlies!
I wanted to start this post with a small warning. Do you see what time it is? Yep 7:30...A.M.!! I don't do A.M....so this probably will end up with some small incoherent ramblings. And for my grammar and spelling buddies who are like me and often mentally correct people's grammar when they speak, well this post very well could end up like nails on a chalkboard for you. I want to apologize up front. :)
I have been trying to figure out why I am so tired, (And no, I'm not pregnant...okay?) and these theories are all I can come up with:
1) Exhausted from all of the really deep and informational posting I did last month. (HA!)
2) Exhausted from the funny joke I just came up with for number 1. (At 7:30 a.m.)
3) Exhausted from being home alone with 8 kids while my hubby got to fly back to Kentucky for a funeral without me. (Yes, I know it is not a REAL vacation, but come on...flight (alone), family "reunion", and lots of food. Sounds like a vacation to me.)
4) Exhausted from financial craziness that is our life right now. (We no longer have a credit report, it is more like a credit rap sheet.)
5) Exhausted from carrying around this hundred pound tumor. (Okay, so maybe it is not so much a tumor as it is 15 years worth of Diet Coke, Paradise Bakery, and an aversion to vegetables and excercise.)
6) Exhausted from trying to be all things to all people. (I know, I have a lot in common with Oprah. Except the rich, black, democrat thing.)
7) Exhausted from feeling like I am doing everything badly. (Oh yes I do...I have a $2000.00 dentist bill for ONE child alone that proves it...as well as having a housefull of mouthy children with muffin tops.)
8) Exhausted from worrying about whether or not Jon and Kate are toying with us for ratings, or if they really will return to the air in the fall as: "Jon plus 4, and Kate plus 4."
9) Exhausted from wondering if that cockroach that I keep seeing in my garage is forming a secret society with other cockroaches and is planning to invade the laundry room. I just don't have near enough money in the budget for bug spray. (I suppose since a nuclear holocaust won't kill them, I should just save the moolah.) :(
10) Exhausted from a wedding and sweet sixteen party that I catered desserts for a week and a half ago. (Dude, it has been a long time since I "worked" 88 hours in a month, let alone in 8 days!)
11) Exhausted from trying to save the planet with all of my "green" living. (Okay, so I only stopped doing laundry because I was tired, not because I was conserving anything. But it so totally counts. Yay, eco-me.)
12) Exhausted from getting up early this week to take my girls to VBS. (Who decided that VBS needed to start in the a.m.? Really...because I thought we were OUT of school. Next time, just a suggestion, but can't we do like NIGHT VBS? That way I can at least catch a flick with a friend or go on a date with my husband. Haven't they heard of "ME church?")
13) Exhausted from thinking about how hard I will have to work to get rid of this 100 pound Paradise Bakery tumor.
14) Exhausted from my last effort 4 weeks ago to "Melt it Off with Mitch Gaylord." (Hee Hee, she said "Gay.") Why can't they just make a real excercise video, like:
"Try to melt it off with Fat People who WILL fall off of the excercise ball EVERY time."
or "Not so slim in less than 6." (Because really, I don't have to have the "after" photo. Some of those "before" bodies are good enough for me.)
(And you really aren't fooling me with those fake testimonials. I just wanted the 2lb "G" Ball. Really. I collect balls.) Hee Hee...she said "balls."
15) Exhausted from thinking about how many people are judging me right now since my inner twelve year old boy just escaped TWICE on number 14.
16) Exhausted from feeling guilt for not reading my Bible in a really long time. I mean, I thought about it, and it is the thought that counts, right? (I don't think that St. Peter is gonna buy that one at the Pearly Gates.)
17) Exhausted from my trip to Costco yesterday where I spent $130.00 on toilet paper, wipees, and paper towels. Oh, and a strawberry. Okay, and maybe a box of ice cream sandwiches.
18) Exhausted from resisting the urge to sample the Dog food they were demonstrating at Costco. (Not even joking..dog food!!) Oh, and the other urge...you know the one that makes you want to buy 96 batteries or a huge pack of Sharpies. (It really hurts to be broke!)
19) Exhausted from all of the mail I had to open yesterday. Who decided that you needed to send the Maid and the Butler their very own copies of each and every bill? Do you know how many trees you just wasted? (See, there goes that concern for the environment again.)
And finally,
20) Exhausted from worrying about where my favorite black capri pants went. How does a pair of pants just disappear?
Butler? Did you not like them? Where, oh, where are they? Because I am so not clothes shopping at this weight. Not at least until Mitch helps me melt off just a little more.
Anyhoo, thanks for listening...if you all have any other ideas as to why I might be so tired all of the time, well, I'd be happy to hear them. I really can't figure it out.
Love,
The Too Pooped to Post, Maid
I wanted to start this post with a small warning. Do you see what time it is? Yep 7:30...A.M.!! I don't do A.M....so this probably will end up with some small incoherent ramblings. And for my grammar and spelling buddies who are like me and often mentally correct people's grammar when they speak, well this post very well could end up like nails on a chalkboard for you. I want to apologize up front. :)
I have been trying to figure out why I am so tired, (And no, I'm not pregnant...okay?) and these theories are all I can come up with:
1) Exhausted from all of the really deep and informational posting I did last month. (HA!)
2) Exhausted from the funny joke I just came up with for number 1. (At 7:30 a.m.)
3) Exhausted from being home alone with 8 kids while my hubby got to fly back to Kentucky for a funeral without me. (Yes, I know it is not a REAL vacation, but come on...flight (alone), family "reunion", and lots of food. Sounds like a vacation to me.)
4) Exhausted from financial craziness that is our life right now. (We no longer have a credit report, it is more like a credit rap sheet.)
5) Exhausted from carrying around this hundred pound tumor. (Okay, so maybe it is not so much a tumor as it is 15 years worth of Diet Coke, Paradise Bakery, and an aversion to vegetables and excercise.)
6) Exhausted from trying to be all things to all people. (I know, I have a lot in common with Oprah. Except the rich, black, democrat thing.)
7) Exhausted from feeling like I am doing everything badly. (Oh yes I do...I have a $2000.00 dentist bill for ONE child alone that proves it...as well as having a housefull of mouthy children with muffin tops.)
8) Exhausted from worrying about whether or not Jon and Kate are toying with us for ratings, or if they really will return to the air in the fall as: "Jon plus 4, and Kate plus 4."
9) Exhausted from wondering if that cockroach that I keep seeing in my garage is forming a secret society with other cockroaches and is planning to invade the laundry room. I just don't have near enough money in the budget for bug spray. (I suppose since a nuclear holocaust won't kill them, I should just save the moolah.) :(
10) Exhausted from a wedding and sweet sixteen party that I catered desserts for a week and a half ago. (Dude, it has been a long time since I "worked" 88 hours in a month, let alone in 8 days!)
11) Exhausted from trying to save the planet with all of my "green" living. (Okay, so I only stopped doing laundry because I was tired, not because I was conserving anything. But it so totally counts. Yay, eco-me.)
12) Exhausted from getting up early this week to take my girls to VBS. (Who decided that VBS needed to start in the a.m.? Really...because I thought we were OUT of school. Next time, just a suggestion, but can't we do like NIGHT VBS? That way I can at least catch a flick with a friend or go on a date with my husband. Haven't they heard of "ME church?")
13) Exhausted from thinking about how hard I will have to work to get rid of this 100 pound Paradise Bakery tumor.
14) Exhausted from my last effort 4 weeks ago to "Melt it Off with Mitch Gaylord." (Hee Hee, she said "Gay.") Why can't they just make a real excercise video, like:
"Try to melt it off with Fat People who WILL fall off of the excercise ball EVERY time."
or "Not so slim in less than 6." (Because really, I don't have to have the "after" photo. Some of those "before" bodies are good enough for me.)
(And you really aren't fooling me with those fake testimonials. I just wanted the 2lb "G" Ball. Really. I collect balls.) Hee Hee...she said "balls."
15) Exhausted from thinking about how many people are judging me right now since my inner twelve year old boy just escaped TWICE on number 14.
16) Exhausted from feeling guilt for not reading my Bible in a really long time. I mean, I thought about it, and it is the thought that counts, right? (I don't think that St. Peter is gonna buy that one at the Pearly Gates.)
17) Exhausted from my trip to Costco yesterday where I spent $130.00 on toilet paper, wipees, and paper towels. Oh, and a strawberry. Okay, and maybe a box of ice cream sandwiches.
18) Exhausted from resisting the urge to sample the Dog food they were demonstrating at Costco. (Not even joking..dog food!!) Oh, and the other urge...you know the one that makes you want to buy 96 batteries or a huge pack of Sharpies. (It really hurts to be broke!)
19) Exhausted from all of the mail I had to open yesterday. Who decided that you needed to send the Maid and the Butler their very own copies of each and every bill? Do you know how many trees you just wasted? (See, there goes that concern for the environment again.)
And finally,
20) Exhausted from worrying about where my favorite black capri pants went. How does a pair of pants just disappear?
Butler? Did you not like them? Where, oh, where are they? Because I am so not clothes shopping at this weight. Not at least until Mitch helps me melt off just a little more.
Anyhoo, thanks for listening...if you all have any other ideas as to why I might be so tired all of the time, well, I'd be happy to hear them. I really can't figure it out.
Love,
The Too Pooped to Post, Maid
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Can we say trailer trash?
I'm not one to judge...especially where one lives, but I'm pretty sure that we are headed for a tralier park.
These are just a few incidences which have me thinking so:
1) Last week my hubby hollered (yep, hollered) out the back door..."Son, get that hose out of your pants!"
2) My nursing infant sneezed, got a booger on me, and then proceeded to swallow it. (I almost threw up.)
3) My six year old daughter had to be told 10 times to pull her halter top up....her niblets were showing. (I know, halter tops don't equal modesty...but we live heatsville...so we deal with it.)
4) We had to get permission to attend my daughters school play...because her third grade sister had been suspended for beating up a fifth grade boy. (Heart welling with pride. Sigh.)
5) My six month old son is naked more than he is clothed.
6) My two and a half year old son constantly has his hand on his not-so-Oscar-Meyer weiner.
7) We take pictures of number 6.
8) My 12 year old daughter is wearing maternity clothes.
9) Number 8 is because the shirts were a dollar at Wal Mart. Now that is even scarier. (By the way....it is cute on her and she doesn't know that it is maternity..so don't tell her!)
10) My hubby uses the word..."quickie."
11) My five year old daughter stole tic tacs from Safeway. (Last night we were at a store and she asked for something and I said "you don't have any money." Her reply: "Mom, I know how to buy stuff without a dollar." Pretty soon her daddy won't be the only one with a rap sheet.)
12) Yes, my hubby has been arrested before. Long story. He did love community service though.
13) I get more excited about coupons than I do about number 10.
See? I told you. Get our double wide ready! I am gonna be queen!
Love,
The Queen Maid.
Disclaimer: No offense intended if you are a weenie grabber, a fifth grader who got whipped by a third grader, halter-top wearer, a criminal, a Wal Mart shopper, a pregnant 12 year old, or currently living in a double wide trailer. :0)
Thursday, April 9, 2009
101 Things...in 1001 Days
Sadly, I found the list.
I truely was hoping to have to write it off as the unwelcome outcome of a bout with some bad Chinese, but let's face it...even bad Chinese is good...and, well...everything is somewhere, as GSD says. (Greatest Step Dad...for those of you who never read this.)
So, it was in box of stuff that you throw in a box when you are expecting company. Along with other things...bills, cards, mismatched socks, my goldkit envelope (yep..I know, totally called them), and well...it taunted me from the box and I dared to read it.
I don't know exactly what methamphetamine I was on when I wrote it, all I can say is that I guarantee each and every one of you seven people that read my blog that I will not accomplish it in its' entirety. I don't even know if I will be able to completely finish typing it. In fact, I laugh as I read it now...thinking to myself, "Did Katie take over my brain for a minute, because I am soooo NOT doing THAT."
So, for those whose curiosity has been aroused (hee hee she said "aroused"), below is the mythical list...which once I type for you...I will probably burn...and most definitely ignore, but being the honorable maid that I am, well, I am true to my word (and from what I hear a bit freaky) if nothing else.
Uh hem (clearing throat)....here you go:
1) - Get my Master's Degree.
2) - Go to England to visit birthplace.
3) - Paint interior of house.
4) - Clean out garage. (Actually did this one a month ago, but it needs it again. Sigh.)
5) - Sell ebay items.
6) - Ship stuff that needs shipping.
7) - Get out of debt. (Oh, is that all? Sounds so simple.)
8) - Hang bathroom valances.
9) - Get all kids to the dentist for teeth cleaning.
10) - Get braces for 12 year old daughter.
11) - Maybe add revenue ads to blog...since I have so many readers. LOL
12) - Blog every day for 30 days straight. (HAHAHAHAHAHA)
13) - Turn off t.v. for 30 days straight. (Mybe #12 is possible after all.)
14) - Write and legalize will.
15) - Pay off Suburban and/or replace with 15 passenger van.
16) - Try meal planning again.
17) - Eat vegetarian meal once a week for 60 days. (Maybe plausible, since we have 76 boxes of cereal?)
18) - Try one new recipe per week.
19) - Send broken items back to manufacturer for replacement.
20) - Have "the talk" with 12 year old daughter.
21) - Go on a trip alone with my hubby.
22) - Read one new book per month for 3 months.
23) - Read the Bible through because I WANT to.
24) - Start and follow a walking regimen for 90 days.
25) - Clean out spice cabinet.
26) - Dedicate Baby to the Lord at church.
27) - Lose at least 40 pounds in a healthy non-drastic way.
28) - Clean out cabinets in every room.
29) - Simplify contents of house. (In process.)
30) - Visit my dad. (Or have him come here to visit.)
31) - Send one encouraging card every month to someone.
32) - Tell kids I love them every day.
33) - Read to kids more often.
34) - Fix big screen t.v. (Actually did this already! Woo hoo!)
35) - Take daughter on a girls only weekend.
36) - Replace flooring in carpeted rooms.
37) - Fix light balast in garage. (Okay mama...this one is done too!)
38) - Touch up paint areas where needed.
39) - Fix drywall holes.
40) - Have windows and screens washed.
41) - Set 5 year goals with hubby.
42) - Recaulk master bath.
43) - Organize important documents.
44) - Re-grout tiled areas. (Or have grout professionally cleaned.)
45) - Get kids social security cards. (For some reason two kids didn't get them in the mail after they were born several years ago.)
46) - Move to _________________. (The place my parents are moving to.)
47) - Take all kids for general physicals...wellness checks.
48) - Play more games - do game nights twice a month.
49) - Get computer fixed.
50) - Fix screens. (Sliding door and windows.)
51) - Make restitution in the areas I need to do this.
52) - Tithe faithfully for at least 12 months.
53) - Use everything up in pantry...and not buy new items until I use what is there!
54) - Use everything up in freezer...blah blah blah.
55) - Get rid of clothes that aren't worn and/or don't fit.
56) - Replace wedding ring. (Mine is broken)
57) - Sell watch.
58) - Organize costume jewelry and get rid of unwanted items.
59) - Clean under bathroom vanities and get rid of unwanted items.
60) - Floss every day for at least 60 days straight. (Usually good about this...gotten lazy.)
61) - Get professional camera and "learn" it.
62) - Take a photography course.
63) - Clean out all condiments in fridge and replace them. (Did that already!)
64) - Set up "Flylady" house cleaning system again and use it.
65) - Try and implement ongoing decluttering and cleaning system for 30 days.
66) - Add on shed for storage to side of house.
67) - Organize photos and memorabilia.
68) - Go on a scrapbooking weekend.
69) - Clean out craft closets.
70) - Get rid of kitchen items that I don't use. In process.
71) - Have a garage sale in spring. (Just did this! Gonna do it again in a week!)
72) - Go without soda for 6 weeks. (Ouch.)
73) - Weed out and replace old towels and wash cloths.
74) - Weed out and replace hair brushes and accessories.
75) - Clean out second freezer (Empty,turn off, and deep clean.)
76) - Go on a cruise with hubby.
77) - Host in-home Bible Study.
78) - Re-carpet and detail Suburban.
79) - Detail van and re-carpet too.
80) - Clean items on pot shelves and DUST up there! Ugh.
81) - Write a book.
82) - Throw big birthday bash for child number 5 who has never had a birthday party. :(
83) - Let fingernails grow out and get manicure.
84) - Pray for hubby every day for 30 days straight.
85) - Take oldest son on a trip for 18th birthday. (Just hubby and I)
86) - Visit one Foreign country that I have never been to.
87) - Go on a short term mission trip.
88) - Volunteer at a homeless shelter.
89) - Volunteer at a nursing home.
90) - Try doing workout tapes for 60 days.
91) - Write encouraging note to each of the kids.
92) - Meet 6 "new" friends for coffee or something.
93) - Re-work budget/bill to reduce output.
94) - Go on a hike with the older kids.
95) - Watch "classic" movies with kids once a month.
96) - Go to a comedy club.
97) - Pray at least once a week for one month for enemies/broken relationships.
98) - Re-upholster cedar chest with new fabric.
99) - Hang valance in family room.
100) - Get couch in family room fixed. (In process.)
101) - Re-decorate kids' rooms.
Phew. That is such a load off.
Now...imagine how I would feel if it was stuff that actually got done. LOL
Thanks for listening. Any encouragement you have to offer would be greatly appreciated! ;)
Your overwhelmed, under-motivated...MAID. :)
I truely was hoping to have to write it off as the unwelcome outcome of a bout with some bad Chinese, but let's face it...even bad Chinese is good...and, well...everything is somewhere, as GSD says. (Greatest Step Dad...for those of you who never read this.)
So, it was in box of stuff that you throw in a box when you are expecting company. Along with other things...bills, cards, mismatched socks, my goldkit envelope (yep..I know, totally called them), and well...it taunted me from the box and I dared to read it.
I don't know exactly what methamphetamine I was on when I wrote it, all I can say is that I guarantee each and every one of you seven people that read my blog that I will not accomplish it in its' entirety. I don't even know if I will be able to completely finish typing it. In fact, I laugh as I read it now...thinking to myself, "Did Katie take over my brain for a minute, because I am soooo NOT doing THAT."
So, for those whose curiosity has been aroused (hee hee she said "aroused"), below is the mythical list...which once I type for you...I will probably burn...and most definitely ignore, but being the honorable maid that I am, well, I am true to my word (and from what I hear a bit freaky) if nothing else.
Uh hem (clearing throat)....here you go:
1) - Get my Master's Degree.
2) - Go to England to visit birthplace.
3) - Paint interior of house.
4) - Clean out garage. (Actually did this one a month ago, but it needs it again. Sigh.)
5) - Sell ebay items.
6) - Ship stuff that needs shipping.
7) - Get out of debt. (Oh, is that all? Sounds so simple.)
8) - Hang bathroom valances.
9) - Get all kids to the dentist for teeth cleaning.
10) - Get braces for 12 year old daughter.
11) - Maybe add revenue ads to blog...since I have so many readers. LOL
12) - Blog every day for 30 days straight. (HAHAHAHAHAHA)
13) - Turn off t.v. for 30 days straight. (Mybe #12 is possible after all.)
14) - Write and legalize will.
15) - Pay off Suburban and/or replace with 15 passenger van.
16) - Try meal planning again.
17) - Eat vegetarian meal once a week for 60 days. (Maybe plausible, since we have 76 boxes of cereal?)
18) - Try one new recipe per week.
19) - Send broken items back to manufacturer for replacement.
20) - Have "the talk" with 12 year old daughter.
21) - Go on a trip alone with my hubby.
22) - Read one new book per month for 3 months.
23) - Read the Bible through because I WANT to.
24) - Start and follow a walking regimen for 90 days.
25) - Clean out spice cabinet.
26) - Dedicate Baby to the Lord at church.
27) - Lose at least 40 pounds in a healthy non-drastic way.
28) - Clean out cabinets in every room.
29) - Simplify contents of house. (In process.)
30) - Visit my dad. (Or have him come here to visit.)
31) - Send one encouraging card every month to someone.
32) - Tell kids I love them every day.
33) - Read to kids more often.
34) - Fix big screen t.v. (Actually did this already! Woo hoo!)
35) - Take daughter on a girls only weekend.
36) - Replace flooring in carpeted rooms.
37) - Fix light balast in garage. (Okay mama...this one is done too!)
38) - Touch up paint areas where needed.
39) - Fix drywall holes.
40) - Have windows and screens washed.
41) - Set 5 year goals with hubby.
42) - Recaulk master bath.
43) - Organize important documents.
44) - Re-grout tiled areas. (Or have grout professionally cleaned.)
45) - Get kids social security cards. (For some reason two kids didn't get them in the mail after they were born several years ago.)
46) - Move to _________________. (The place my parents are moving to.)
47) - Take all kids for general physicals...wellness checks.
48) - Play more games - do game nights twice a month.
49) - Get computer fixed.
50) - Fix screens. (Sliding door and windows.)
51) - Make restitution in the areas I need to do this.
52) - Tithe faithfully for at least 12 months.
53) - Use everything up in pantry...and not buy new items until I use what is there!
54) - Use everything up in freezer...blah blah blah.
55) - Get rid of clothes that aren't worn and/or don't fit.
56) - Replace wedding ring. (Mine is broken)
57) - Sell watch.
58) - Organize costume jewelry and get rid of unwanted items.
59) - Clean under bathroom vanities and get rid of unwanted items.
60) - Floss every day for at least 60 days straight. (Usually good about this...gotten lazy.)
61) - Get professional camera and "learn" it.
62) - Take a photography course.
63) - Clean out all condiments in fridge and replace them. (Did that already!)
64) - Set up "Flylady" house cleaning system again and use it.
65) - Try and implement ongoing decluttering and cleaning system for 30 days.
66) - Add on shed for storage to side of house.
67) - Organize photos and memorabilia.
68) - Go on a scrapbooking weekend.
69) - Clean out craft closets.
70) - Get rid of kitchen items that I don't use. In process.
71) - Have a garage sale in spring. (Just did this! Gonna do it again in a week!)
72) - Go without soda for 6 weeks. (Ouch.)
73) - Weed out and replace old towels and wash cloths.
74) - Weed out and replace hair brushes and accessories.
75) - Clean out second freezer (Empty,turn off, and deep clean.)
76) - Go on a cruise with hubby.
77) - Host in-home Bible Study.
78) - Re-carpet and detail Suburban.
79) - Detail van and re-carpet too.
80) - Clean items on pot shelves and DUST up there! Ugh.
81) - Write a book.
82) - Throw big birthday bash for child number 5 who has never had a birthday party. :(
83) - Let fingernails grow out and get manicure.
84) - Pray for hubby every day for 30 days straight.
85) - Take oldest son on a trip for 18th birthday. (Just hubby and I)
86) - Visit one Foreign country that I have never been to.
87) - Go on a short term mission trip.
88) - Volunteer at a homeless shelter.
89) - Volunteer at a nursing home.
90) - Try doing workout tapes for 60 days.
91) - Write encouraging note to each of the kids.
92) - Meet 6 "new" friends for coffee or something.
93) - Re-work budget/bill to reduce output.
94) - Go on a hike with the older kids.
95) - Watch "classic" movies with kids once a month.
96) - Go to a comedy club.
97) - Pray at least once a week for one month for enemies/broken relationships.
98) - Re-upholster cedar chest with new fabric.
99) - Hang valance in family room.
100) - Get couch in family room fixed. (In process.)
101) - Re-decorate kids' rooms.
Phew. That is such a load off.
Now...imagine how I would feel if it was stuff that actually got done. LOL
Thanks for listening. Any encouragement you have to offer would be greatly appreciated! ;)
Your overwhelmed, under-motivated...MAID. :)
Monday, March 30, 2009
Since you all love questions so much...
Just when you thought I was all kinds of freaky...and that fo shizzle I was listening to some seventies "love making" music....I pose this question to you...
At what point is grocery shopping an illness?
I mean...when you hit 3 stores in one day. Because something is free...and you don't want to miss out...something that you don't even need today. In fact, probably won't need it for the next 4 months....is that something to see Dr. Phil about?
Would he ask me if I went to bed hungry as a child or if I had some deep-seated fear of not being able to feed my babies?
Would he wonder why just a month or so ago I printed every available coupon to acquire more than 30 bottles of mustard, BBQ sauce, and hot sauce...for free. FREE, people. Do you realize that FREE is a four letter word. An "F" word at that. Not THE "F" word...but just as sex addicts are aroused by that one...I think I am aroused by the other one. FREE. (Just got chills up my spine people.)
So seriously, friends. Do I need an intervention?
Shoot...my family HAD to go on WIC, just to keep me and my FREE cereal in milk.
How many boxes are too many? 10, 15, 20?
Remember, I have 8 kids.
So will it bring shame to my already bad reputation if I confess, right here, right now, that I have... um...
76 unopened boxes of cereal in my closet.
SEVENTY SIX.
I acquired 30 of them this past week. FREE. Oh yep. I am so lit up by that word.
"Honey, get the handcuffs out...and the milk." I'm in the mood for a little threesome, just you, me, and the captain. Yeah, baby. Captain Crunch.
Bow chicka wow wow.
At what point is grocery shopping an illness?
I mean...when you hit 3 stores in one day. Because something is free...and you don't want to miss out...something that you don't even need today. In fact, probably won't need it for the next 4 months....is that something to see Dr. Phil about?
Would he ask me if I went to bed hungry as a child or if I had some deep-seated fear of not being able to feed my babies?
Would he wonder why just a month or so ago I printed every available coupon to acquire more than 30 bottles of mustard, BBQ sauce, and hot sauce...for free. FREE, people. Do you realize that FREE is a four letter word. An "F" word at that. Not THE "F" word...but just as sex addicts are aroused by that one...I think I am aroused by the other one. FREE. (Just got chills up my spine people.)
So seriously, friends. Do I need an intervention?
Shoot...my family HAD to go on WIC, just to keep me and my FREE cereal in milk.
How many boxes are too many? 10, 15, 20?
Remember, I have 8 kids.
So will it bring shame to my already bad reputation if I confess, right here, right now, that I have... um...
76 unopened boxes of cereal in my closet.
SEVENTY SIX.
I acquired 30 of them this past week. FREE. Oh yep. I am so lit up by that word.
"Honey, get the handcuffs out...and the milk." I'm in the mood for a little threesome, just you, me, and the captain. Yeah, baby. Captain Crunch.
Bow chicka wow wow.
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