Jesus Freak

Jesus Freak? Who? Oh, wait...it's ME!!!

This won't be a short blog, and I'm not sure it's intended for anyone but me. I'll probably talk about YOU in it though and YOU might get to know ME better. SO, if at all interested...keep reading. My thoughts are not collected well and when I write, I ramble. (OH, when I talk I ramble too. It's all about consistency.) But I feel a NEED to ramble. So, here goes.

Monday my son got into trouble at school. I was called in to talk to the teacher. My kids go to a private Christian school. Well, the situation itself is an entirely different blog about the injustices towards our little boys in grade school (hehe, mommy talk there). Basically he was "talking to his boy" telling him to pick up his pencils. A little girl interjected and spouted off that he was mean and he called her a liar. The teacher was very upset that he "called her a name" when the little girl had "only told him he was mean, meaning he was acting bossy. And yet your son called her a NAME." Long story short, my lil dude made me snicker when he later replied to me during our conversation on this "Yea, I said she was a liar, MEANING she wasn't telling the truth!" hehehe

Anyhow...on Monday's the school has chapel time and this day they had a guest speaker named Ken Freeman (www.kenfreemanministries.com). The topic was on words and how your words can affect others. So, little dude HEARD what he needed to. The kids were so excited about this speaker. Partly because he was going to be speaking M-W nights as well and they wanted to go! (Partly because they'd see their friends.) Monday night I didn't feel well and Tuesday was football. But I knew I wanted to go as well. I've been needing a good spiritual kick in the butt lately. So Wednesday night it was.

I did not realize that Wednesday night was primarily set apart as YOUTH night and that I would be sitting in the middle of about 150 STINKY-SMELLY-NEEDING-SOME-DEODORANT 13-16 year olds. (God bless the Youth pastors that inhale this regularly.) I also didn't realize that Ken would be sharing his life story this night and that it would be somewhat explicit and possibly lead to more questions than I was ready for from my 7 year old. I ALSO did not realize that when I walked into the lobby, readying myself to hear God, embracing the anonymity of not being at my own church home (www.mscwired.org) , because for some reason I just needed to be somewhere different and not feel like I was there to fellowship, but rather to worship...I did not know that there would be a table and a huge sign with the face of my friend and my church's worship leader, Mark Roach. (www.myspace.com/markroach or www.markroachmusic.blogspot.com) I texted Mark and our friend Kelley asking if he was indeed at this place this evening (thinking maybe they were just selling CD's or something???) And of course, with a CD signing table, DER, he was there to lead worship. In my pursuit of anonymity, I can't tell you the sense of HOME that I felt when Mark and Carolyn (his awesomest, singingest, beautifulestest, wife) and a couple of the other guys from our church took the stage to lead worship. My kids aren't normally in "adult worship service" and it was indredible to spend this time with them and they felt the sense of home as well...this was not only their school, but their church now and we were all worshipping Jesus together.

After worship, I took little dude downstairs to "play" to avoid what might be coming up. My daughter just turned eleven and somehow sitting with the Youth felt right (and made me feel old.) I felt like a little bridge for her...she's so close to that age where the desire for independence just oozes stupidly out of their pores. Sitting between her and this group somehow gave me this picture of "hand-off" and I felt this feeling of readiness. Primarily because I saw a readiness in her. She's such a sassy little thing (gets it from her father no doubt), and yet, when it comes to her faith in Christ...she just HAS it!

Ken is an indredibly easy to listen to speaker. He's beyond real. His life story is one of the saddest I've heard. He moved more times than I remember, changing schools countless times. His father left when he was 4 and his mother had countless marriages (9 I think?) and more boyfriends. He had his baby sister and several half siblings. His mother beat them. She beat them badly. She, on more than one occasion, woke them in the night with knifes to their throats telling them no one wanted them and she didn't either. She would leave them in parking lots sitting on a curb for 30 minutes or 12 hours...depending upon where she was going to get drunk or high. They had no self worth and only lived off of the inherent trait of survival. Ken woke one night when his mother had left them alone with a boyfriend for 3 days, to the boyfriend raping his little sister. To "save" her, Ken allowed himself to be sacrificed into this molestation. When his mom returned from this happening repeatedly for the 3 days, she was drunk. When she finally heard their story, she had him arrested and little 7 year old Ken was taken to the police station to look this man in the eye and identify him. Ken went into tons of detail about his upbringing, but he was clear to say he was leaving out much of the horrors. Fast forward to Ken meeting "football player Jeff". You can read Ken's books or possibly you'll get an opportunity to hear him speak...you will not be sorry. He's crazy cool. In order to get to the feelings I want to share, I'm merely going to say that Jeff ended up being the person that witnessed to Ken and the person that led Ken to Christ. The story is actually insanely amusing, especially hearing Ken tell it, and I wish you would check out the whole thing. But basically, Ken is now a Pastor. I've left out bookloads of his story, and wish I could express how far removed Ken was from anything holy. From anything good on this planet. From anyone in fact. And now, he speaks to masses and shares his story through books in order to hopefully reach others, devastated by the world or just searching for some answers or meaning. He wants to reach EVERYONE actually. Because that is what it is to be Christian. It saddens us to our core (or should) to think about those we love, or anyone at all, not spending eternity in Heaven. To continue living this life on our own accord and having a void that can only be filled by Christ's love for us. He's doing something that he LAUGHED OUT LOUD drunkenly about for years. He didn't just not believe in God. He HATED God and everything He stood for. Ken has been transformed.

I needed this story last night. I needed to be reminded of Christ's love for me. My church reminds me, my friends remind me, CREATION itself reminds me. But there's something that ticks in me that is struck and spoken to by an "in your face, no nonsense, crazy cool, whackadoodle Jesus Freak!" Ken is that...in the best way.

Why did I need this? Many, many reasons. I NEEDED the bonding time with my kids. I needed to genuinely worship Jesus together and not just sing the songs. I've raised them to be proud of what they believe and to stand up for what they believe. They are exposed to worldliness (oooo, there's some Christianeze for you), so don't give me the "they're standing up for what YOU believe" jargon. But yes, they are exposed to Jesus in many areas of their life and not just on Sunday morning. But there's something that you can't take away from someone. Something that as much as you want to debate or prove to them that it isn't right or real or true...they will just have to, and be able to, say...it's true to me. EXPERIENCES. Some more Christianeze for you....Spiritual Markers. Faith is believing in that which you cannot see. So to get into some debate with someone about whether Christ is real or not...we could pull out all the Lee Strobel "Case for Christ" series and go through all of the prophecy passages in the Bible together...or we can keep it simple. We can KNOW by our EXPERIENCES. Our sprititual markers.

I can tell you that there probably aren't too many, if any, Christians that don't have a story. They have times in their lives where they knew God's presence was there. Some of these stories are kinda creepy-ish.."do do do do"...and some are just heartfelt-soul felt. My daughter's experienced both. My son has experienced the "soul felt". I have indeed experienced both. I think these things (especially those weird "do do do do" moments) happen for us to HOLD ON TO. Like a little prize from God to help us through the tough times. A little trinket to take away the doubt that naturally occurs in our human hearts. A nugget of heaven to able us to live on Earth. Our pride keeps us from sharing these stories sometimes.

I mean, what would some of you think about me if I told you how I "tested Jesus" early in my faith and shouted through tears "YEA, well you can't make this curtain blow right now just because I'm asking you to!!!" (And the curtain not only blew, but a cool breeze came in from a warm night and brushed my cheek and sent goosie bumpies down to my tootsies.) You'd think I was off my rocker for sure!!! (I say for sure because many of you are close to convinced of that about me already. Te he.) What would you think of the plumber that came just yesterday to rescue me from my basement flood; covered in tattoos and asking for a beer at the end of his job. What would you think of his story of infidelity and partying and leaving and getting back together with his wife after realizing that the new girl wasn't the one and he'd made a mistake. After hearing the song The Reason by Hoobastank and feeling led to send it to her, opening up new lines of communication. And "only going with her to church because that was a condition of the restoration of their relationship." He KNEW he didn't believe in God. What would you think of him telling you that he knew that he knew that he knew that Jesus was not only real and was God, but that he LOVED him after being convinced by feeling His presence. His presence came via him getting mad one day and yelling out to God "Well, if you'd just give me a sign!" and the song "Calling all Angels" by Train (you know the lyrics..."I need a sign, to let me know you're here...) came on the radio just as the words left his mouth...leaving him in a blubbery mess on the floor. And again, when asking for what is right...the song The Reason came on again at that precise moment. Coincidence you say? Try telling that to him! Again, you cannot take soul experiences away from people!!! You just can't. How can you argue what they felt and know in their heart??? And me, well, I laugh at the word "coincidence" anyhow. I don't much believe in it.

And Mark Roach...do you really think he's always written Worship music? I mean, it's certainly possible. But nah, he wrote songs about love and girls. I think he had a band called Taboo at one time! haha ( I hope I don't get in trouble for that.) I only mention it to preface the question: Do you really think that he does it for the fortune and fame? Bwahahaha...I'm certain he could be making a ton more money hitting the road singing about sex, drugs and rock 'n roll. And although his success in the music industry has brought him a degree of fame, I can tell you that that is NOT his thing. (And even less-so his wifey's thing.) His THING is reaching others and telling them of Christ's love. His thing is worshipping our Creator. WHY is this his thing??? BECAUSE it's REAL. Because he's had experiences (and since then, yes fed and nourished through learning and living) that have proven Jesus' existence, death and resurrection, to his heart! To his innermost being. So he's clung to it and his response has been to reach others through the gifts that Jesus has given him. He's a Jesus Freak too :) And I mean that in the nicest possible way. So, Mark, if you're reading. Yo...

What does all of this have to do with anything? I guess I just needed to ramble. I needed to reflect. I also need you to know who I am. Know who I want to continue to be. Some of you are rolling on the floor right now undoubtedly. Some of you might even have tears and are thinking "yea, sista, where you been?" I've been in a funkadelic place. That's where. (And I don't mean funkadelic, like the smell my basement is emitting at the moment.) I mean funk. Like...life funk. Most everyone knows I've gone through changes. Divorced recently and that brings changes across all lines of life. Including friends. Make new friends...but keep the old....(Geez, I"m humming a lot while typing this blog.) For me, it's brought highs and lows and the lows have been looooooow. The highs have been hiiiiiiiigh. But I guess it's where I'm turning in those high's and lows that I feel a need to get into check.

I've met some WAY cool people lately. Via MYSPACE. I know...silly eh? There's only a few of them that are creepy (hahaha)...most of them are just real, dysfunctional, cool, fun, swell people like me :) Then there's the friends of old. I have been fortunate in my adult life to have many many many many many friends. (Most don't have a clue what blogspot is though.) I have friends from many different circles and at times, it's difficult to keep up with my friends. That sounds kinda...wrong, doesn't it? But what a problem to have. I'm thankful for too many friends. I'm thankful my friends are there, even when I'm not. I pray (yep, oh yep I do) that they know I do not take them for granted. I hope it never feels that way. I haven't been a great friend for awhile. But they're great. And new friends. Oh, wow. Some of them are crazy great. I WANT these friendships. But I've treaded deeply enough in the past several months to know that I need to make sure and remember who I am. In order for me to do that...I feel a need to make sure I tell you who I am.

That said...I don't know if I will be able to change my party ways again over night. I don't want to change all of them. I'm having FUN and don't want that to stop. I want to continue to meet fabulous people. I want to continue doing the things I love and always have...dancing, floating, boating, sporting events, eating and more eating. I want the friendships I'm making to grow. I want to learn more about people. I want to learn more about me and the things that are out there that I might learn to love! But Jules is needing some serious balance checking in her life. I can have tons o fun and get a job. I can have tons o fun and serve at my church. I can have tons o fun and still stay in touch with friends. I can have tons o fun and take care of my children WELL. I can have tons o fun and still make time to grow in my faith and nurture the most important relationship in my life...That with Christ.

Jules isn't going anywhere. And I'm WAY sorry if you broke something when you fell down laughing. I know I haven't shown anything resembling Christ-like behavior to some of you. I'm human and make no excuses. But you see, being a Christian doesn't mean that I'm perfect. Being a Christian means that I realize the need for a Savior and that I acknowledge I have Him. He does also tell us to be firm. To confess with our mouths. Going back to the stories. The Spiritual Markers. Man, I don't want to be too prideful to share those. Man, I don't want to lose touch with them. Those moments that NO ONE could tell me that it wasn't so. No matter how much debating, no matter how much "religious talk", no matter how much condemnation came my way. No one can take away what is unexplainably true in my heart. I wonder how many others have those experiences and have lost touch of them. Have not shared them (pride?). Have chalked it up to coincidence or some other spiritual momentum. Hear me...I am not here to judge anyone. GOD knows I don't want anyone judging me. I have friends that are from all denominations. I have friends that claim to be spiritual, yet don't know Jesus from a hole in the wall. I have friends that, and yes, it saddens me if I think about it; reject the thought of Christianity altogether.

But I met Ken Freeman. And I WAS Ken Freeman to an extent. Don't mis-read. I did and do have a family that loved me. But as we all do, I have some messed up life experiences under my belt. Although I never "didn't" believe in God, I didn't know Him. I had no knowledge of His love for me. His sacrifice for me. His ability to fill the void that haunted my life. I had no knowledge of transformation. So, I don't judge anyone. I pray for them. Not as often as I should though. I pray for myself. Not as often as I should though.

My experience is different than yours. We're all unique. Maybe you'll step out and respond with a "dodododooo" story of your own. Maybe you'll respond with "yes, you are indeed a whackadoo". And that's really ok. I'll continue to be me. But I wanted you to know (and to remind myself) of who I be...

I be a Jesus Freak.

Houston, We Have Contact...And I am thankful.

The Title, just a tease of the ramblings going on in my mind.

Wow, it is a perfect beautiful day. I put a status update on my Myspace profile that says "I want to drop the top, drive the five, chat with the sea lions, go to the Rodeo, and eat pizza on that corner in La Jolla. But, I'm mowing."

Truth of the matter is, I enjoyed mowing. I really need none of the other stuff to feel content at the moment. (Although I really like the sound of it all.) I woke up this morning in a fog. A very sleepy fog. Partly due to the "contact" I referred to, which had me staring at the ceiling until about 2:45 am for the 2nd night in a row. So, I was tired. But also partly due to the fact that I haven't been embracing contentedness. Or thankfulness. I'm thankful for the yard I have to mow.

Shortly after I awoke, I received a text from a person I know telling me that a friend of ours' mother had passed away yesterday. The person sending the text has had her share of loss this past year as well, losing both her father and step dad whom she was very close with. I ended our series of texts saying that I was going to be thankful today.

Houston, we have contact. Yes. Contact. Finally. Although, I don't even need to ask myself the question (unless I want the world to know how ridiculously stupid I am capable of being) of whether a drunk text is worth considering contact. Not even like a "drunk text" with innuendos. Rather a sole text reading "I'm drunk." Nice. But this didn't anger me. Rather I was thankful. I was thankful for the contact in some strange way. Saddened by the literal text. The person on the other end isn't enjoying contentedness either. I think they believe they are and I could surely be wrong. But this person is not a big drinker. Hasn't been who they are. I'm open to change. We don't have to "stay who we've been". But any time it's becoming someone we aren't, it can't be right. Right? It made me sad. I miss this person very much. But I was thankful. For contact.

Then I got to thinking. Along with this thankful, contentedness, and even sad feeling. I'll bet others think the same of me. I hope I'm not making someone sad by not being available. By not being myself. A good friend told me that I'm going to find out what I'm made of. I want to be made of thankfulness. I want that to be a huge part of who I am.

I received another text while pondering all of this on my morning drive. From a friend that was just texting to say she loves me. And she does. And somehow, she always picks the right moments to let me know that I am loved. Thankful for my friends. I received another text (well, I"m actually collecting a few of these into one thought) from a friend recently diagnosed with cancer. For the 2nd time. He always asks how "I'm" doing. Really? That's inspiring no? He lives his life thankful. He is not well. But he is thankful for friends and life and I'm pretty sure God.

My daughter's teacher called. She didn't finish her math homework again. AND she lied to me about it. (I asked her 4 times if she was sure it was done and I didn't check because we've talked about trust. And possibly because I was in a funk and just didn't.) The teacher is going to team with me to get her on the up and up. She is willing to check her backpack EVERY day before leaving and every day when returning. Our hope is that daughter will not enjoy this and will take the responsibility. I am thankful for her teacher.

I am rambling now as well and have no time to proof, edit and make more sense of my thoughts because I'm going to pick up those little ones I'm most thankful for. I could leave it here and edit, etc later. But nah. I'm posting. I plan to enjoy more of this beautiful weather, hug my kids, and make weekend plans with new friends I'm going to be thankful for :)

Thankfully, finished.

A Woman Scorned

SO, this is a new title that has been declared my way. I actually think it took hearing it in a half joking way from someone to make me realize that it's so. It's so true. Hate that. So, now what?

Why am I a "woman scorned". Well, that's my business. But what about scorned women? What does it do to us? Why do we let things AFFECT us so much when the EFFECT usually stinks?

I'm "affected". I've let a situation change me. In fact, I invited the situation to change me. I wasn't dealing with it well, so I purposefully told myself..."self, here's how you're gonna deal with this." The "effect"...DUMB. Just dumb. This isn't the person I wanna be.

Growing up, things in my life influenced who I was, how I acted, how I coped. That's true with all of us. But I spent MANY years regretting some of the dumb decisions I'd made. Some of the stupid things I'd done. Oh, I could sit here and say "I have no regrets. Everything has made me who I am today." UM, yea, LIARS, you people that say that! Or maybe not. There's truth in that statement. BUT, I had USED those regrets as a crutch too many times in my past. I hadn't thought I could be a GOOD person because of some things. Me, yep, I had regrets...but I had actually learned and triumphed into forgiving myself, forgiving others, and moving forward without those regrets any longer defining who I am and will be.

Fast forward to now. REALLY? Did I spend all of that time for nothing? Am I really going to allow myself to be so influenced by a situation, that I will venture down a path that will only make me unhappy in the long run? WHY?

I know the answer to that too! (Smart that way.) BECAUSE, facing the crap just hurts too damn much! I'd rather meet new friends, party like a rockstar, and protect ME from further pain. (Or at least be in charge of whatever pain may become me.) Escape. Yea, there's a reason. Escape. I justify it well. I mean, I am newly single. I do need to meet new people. I CAN party cuz' I'm old enough, I take care of my kids well, when I have ME time, I'm "deserving". I think for some, this is all probably pretty fine and dandy and real. There's nothing wrong with fun. Don't read that into any of what I'm saying. I'm just saying for ME, right now, I'm needing to face that I have escaped into this self protection mode of HELLOOOO, HIDING PAIN.

Crap that sucks to admit. Woman scorned. Crap that sucks too. Person I wanna be...haven't met her yet. She's in there though. And she's flippin AWESOME! Guess I have to back track a little, face the stupid (I'll refrain from using the profanity that I can barely keep in to describe how much I ABHOR the stupidity of the pain I have to face)PAIN. I have been telling myself I need to have my guard up. I never want to have to go through this again. EVER! I have told myself and others that I don't trust anyone anymore. I've said that if anyone's gonna play it's gonna be ME! I've not made time for my friends that have been by my side for years because they know of my stupidity, and it's embarrassing, and it hurts to have to lean on people so many times. I say it's because I'm newly single and need to find new single friends. Some truth there, but it's because I've let myself become totally selfish. That's what it boils down to I think. My "woman scorned" act has consequentially turned me into a very selfish person. Selfish of my time, selfish of my service, selfish of my regard for others feelings, selfish for protections sake.

It's time. It's time to backtrack and once again face the pain. I don't want to kid myself and think that just because I've made this realization that I am going to be a "NEW" woman and be over it, voila'. I'm gonna have to go through it. Equate it to a grieving process maybe? See, this is the crap reason why WE "scorned" women don't do it! It's much easier to just say "No, I don't want a real relationship; No, I don't trust people; No, I don't CARE." But the fact is, I'm a really trusting person. Too much so. I'm a really caring person. Too much so. And ultimately, when the time is right, I want a fantastic life relationship with someone. So, there ya have it. Honesty at it's rawest. Any other scorned women out there (there are, but they probably aren't reading this) willing to admit that we need to face the hurt and face the fact that we WERE hurt, admit the pain? Or will ya just keep hiding? Me, I'm outta the closet.

The coolest chick I know said this to me: "There's a fine line between distraction and destruction in these situations. That is my concern for you." Well said sistah! This girl isn't about to self destruct. I'm gonna hurt though. But on the other side of it is AWESOME me!!!

Are You FREAKING kidding me? EWWW!!!

Are you freaking kidding me??? THIS is what my stomach looks like right now! AND my legs, AND my arms, AND AND AND!!! (I of course would have spared you the icky picture, but I've been in trouble in past for blogging about what things look like and not posting pic! AND, if you are my friend, this will get more sympathy ratings, and if you are NOT my friend and it grosses you out...GOOD!)

OK, let's go. SICK! So, I thought that I was having some dreaded allergic reaction to "last years" sunscreen that I decided to use. The other possibility was that it was some sorta dreaded reaction to Bath & Body Works (new flavor) lotion that I used the night before it erupted! OH, but no. Because that would mean that I could get an allergy pill or something and clear it up. NOOOO, instead...it's a delayed reaction to the Strep Throat I had a few weeks ago. (That in itself is blog worthy...I mean, am I six years old? Did I lick the handle on the grocery cart and forget that? My KIDS did not get Strep Throat. Why me? WHYYYYYYYYY????? *extra whining tone inserted*)

Guttate Psoriasis.
http://www.webmd.com/skin-problems-and-treatments/psoriasis/guttate-psoriasis

ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME??? SO, here's the deal. I happen to have psoriasis. I happen to be extremely familiar with this crap disease. I also happen to have a form of arthritis that resembles rhumetoid that is called Psoriatic Arthritis. I inject Enbrel once a week and have become "a new woman" and a walking commercial. (To the tune of $1400/month without insurance; thank GOD I only pay $100). SO, I am extremely familiar with the PROGNOSIS of this crap! It basically has to "run it's course". Did I say "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?"

My high school reunion is in 2 weeks. Someone asked me "Well, what are you gonna do, strip at your reunion?" NO smarta@#$...but what about the hot dress I wanted to wear, never mind the pool day on Saturday!?! Never mind the fact that even if I didn't have a reunion coming up (and haven't dieted, so this is just an extra dose of ickiness) it's FLIPPIN SUMMERTIME!!!

GEEZ! Are you KIDDING ME??? SO, yes, it seems as though I am doomed to sport the lovely RAISED red rash for up to a month? Maybe longer???

UM, ARE YOU FREEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAKKKKKKINNNNNGGGGGGGGG KIDDING ME???

ARRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

I'm none too pleased.

Calling all Dog Whisperer's

Calling all Dog Whisperer’s


HELP! OK, here's the scoop. I have a Harley. He's my dog, not a hog. I adopted him 2 1/2 years ago from the pound after getting rid of a Jack Russell Terror. I LOVE this mutt! But I need major help right now, as the advice I've been hearing is to let him go.

FULL STORY: Harley pees in the house. He always has if I'm honest. I could sit here and justify him, which is what I've done for the past 2 1/2 years. 1) I am not good at ALWAYS putting him in his crate if I run somewhere. 2) I leave him out at night sometimes (to protect me)...and to keep from getting up when he barks for me in the middle of the night (honesty again). 3) He was a stray and a year old when I got him, so he had bad habits in place already.

Harley rules the roost. He goes in and out all day (which, when I start working, isn't gonna be happening). We always have to go open the door for him and have no idea if he's peeing or not as he just likes to play outside. He DOES NOT however want to be an outdoor dog at all and would drive my neighbors crazy sitting at the backdoor barking to come in. (He's NOT a barker, just when he wants in. Barks once. Then again. Then again. You get it.) SO, we have no idea what kinda potty schedule he really runs. All I know is, he has AMPLE time to be doing his deed OUTSIDE!

More of the scoop. I'm recently divorced (no, he's not traumatized, he peed at the last house too) and we've moved into new house. Well, he is quickly making my living room floor a pee stained mess!!! Once or twice ok! Not kidding, he did it THREE TIMES yesterday! WTF!!!! And I used to think I could only scold him if I caught him in the act. Well, nooooo, this dog knows exactly what he's done! If I call him nicely and he comes and sees me standing near it...he will stop mid tracks like "oh crap!"

Now for the good of Harley. He's a very sweet dog. He does let me know when there's strangers around :) He does give me a sense of security. He loves us unconditionally. My kids would be devastated to get rid of him (and that's something I would have a very difficult time with considering the rest of the transition I'm putting them through). He's way funny. He's fun to play with. He's part of our family dang-it! My little Harley-pants.

I've already considered how hard it will be having a dog when I go back to work. Who will let him out? How long can he stay in his crate all day...and then night too? What kinda life is that? But thinking about letting my Harley go is really really saddening me. HELP! Is there a magic pee pill???

Sorry to blog all over you.....

Things my kids say...Part 2...yep, there was a Part 1 sometime back.

Toes
While cutting my sons grossy gross dirty toenails tonight I was informed that "Albert Pujols toes are just like this." "REALLY, how do you know?" "I read it in a magazine." Really, like Celebrity Toes InDepth? What magazine was that?

Softball
This evening my daughter swung a little too hard? She informed me that she "cracked her butt". Um...I informed her she came that way like the rest of us???

Underwear
My 7 yr old son came stomping out of his room with his cutey little man gray briefs flailing around in the air (because no longer will we ever wear undies with cartoons on them and after seeing the little boy on the opposing baseball team the other night with NEMO flashing through his white b-ball pants...I'm a no-cartoon supporter) throwing a fit that "I ONLY HAVE ONE PAIR OF UNDERWEAR IN MY DRAWER!" After asking him sarcastically if he needed one for each cheek I sent him to bed and threatened him with laundry duty! Cheeeeky indeed!

Peek-sures
After seeing the recent pics I took and posted on Myspace my son informed me I looked OLD! He was specifically talking about one black and white photo so I replied "You mean like an old-time photograph?" To which he replied, "No, like you're FIFTY!" I sent him to bed that night as well.

Birds and Bees
My 10 3/4 year old daughter has no interest in learning too much about the birds and the bees. OK, fine with me. Although lately it seems that the topic comes up way too many times (innocently enough) with her 7 yr old brother in ear distance, or when we're like 2 minutes from arriving at next activity and "it's a longer conversation than this". The other day (with 2 minutes to arrival)she proceeded to tell me that she heard that Jamie Lynn Spears was having a baby (we're a little behind on "news"). Many times I've shared with my kids not to believe everything they read, that a lot of it is made up and to always seek truth. Well, she informed me that it wasn't true (and defended this to all of her friends) because she wasn't married! I told her that she WAS pregnant and that started it. "How?" "What exactly do you mean her and her boyfriend got together?" (Really? Exactly? Like right now 2 minutes out to arrival? Because I took you on an entire girls TRIP to try to get you to talk and you put your hand in my face saying TMI!) Luckily she's slept since then and discovered her butt is cracked...so we've not had THE conversation. Yay me for another couple of days probably.

Oh geesh...there's SO many more things that have had me half laughing at them lately. But I'm forgetting in my OLD AGE and can't think right now. So, I'll post a Part 3 later I guess.

BILLS

OK...so "I'm a big girl now...". I no longer receive fun mail order catalogs and invites to every subdivision affair. I don't open my mailbox to birthday party invites for the kids' friends (because they don't know our address yet...we just got home from a party via email invite). I haven't received a letter from a long lost friend or even a handful of sweepstakes entries (do they send those anymore or were they out-lawed?). I now receive BILLS, BILLS, BILLS. And guess what...they gotta be paid. HAHA

Today was bill writing day for me and I haven't written a bill payment in, hmm, like 15 years. SO, that was fun. Don't forget to write your account number on the memo portion. Make sure the address shows through the window. Place stamp in box. (Note to self...buy business envelopes because Ameren UE is too cheap to send return envelopes with their bill and I had to send it in a pink hallmark card envelope.)

Um, it is feasible to consider a job now. And "support" checks would be nice. EEKS, is my mortgage payment really THAT MUCH? Time to re-finance already!!! It is finished. They're all signed, licked and headed to the box. Yay me. (Hey, the Cosmo subscription was less than $20. What?)

Backtracking on house

SOOOO, I haven't taken any "after" shots of the house yet. But I will! Here's some lovely pics of the before action. We moved in with the help of many fabulous friends that I am forever grateful to on Memorial Day weekend. My kiddos were out of town and when they got HOME Monday, their rooms were put together and the house looked and felt like home. SOOOO many stories on the progress and happenings around this place. I may venture back and blog about some of them...or I may just stay on forward motion. THANK YOU MY FRIENDS FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT, HELP, ENCOURAGEMENT, ETC ETC! Gonna find out what I'm made of now. Oh, I got mail too! Um, a mortgage bill and an electric bill. Yay me....

NO, it's not done...

Whoops, this is sideways. Oh well, I'm TOOOOO tired to re-do if that tells you how flippin exhausted I am. For all of you asking...the shower still looks like this. Double EWWWW. It's cracking me up. No one says...how are you? You all say "is the shower clean yet?"

I will be having a "the shower is clean" partay when it is finished. Tile man came so I haven't been in there an went on to painting. BUT, after looking a little closer...yes, that was quite sickening...I may be purchasing new shower doors. I WILL conquer that floor though! Yep, I will. My tootsies have to touch it some day. Triple EWWW!

This hurts, and that does too!

Everything hurts. Literally. My body huuuuuurts. Holy cow, how outta shape am I? It took me a full day 1/2 of work to clean the KITCHEN and 1/2 BATH at the new place. BUT, it is finished! Yay. This new place of mine is funky friends. The pics do not do it justice for the "before" shots because you can't really see the dirt. But I'll post some later. My hands hurt as I'm typing. My fingers are swollen and I've had rubber gloves on for 2 days and my hands would love a paraffin dip. My neck hurts when I turn it from side to side. (It would love a massage on the beach.) My back hurts from climbing under and over all the cabinets. (It wants to go to the beach with my neck and find that masseuse). My knuckles hurt because somehow I carved a hole in one. (Back to the paraffin). My eyes hurt from all of the weeds in the yard and lack of good sleep. Um, good sleep sounds good. My knees hurt from crawling around on them washing baseboards. They would love knee-pads.

I hurt. But did I mention how much I'm LOVING the pain!!! Yay...the reward of accomplishment is sweeeeeeeet. The tile man is coming...back to work I go. (OH, I now have 2 boyfriends. Mr. Clean and Murphy. Murphy Oil is his name. Jealous? So is the Tidy Bowl man....)

Toof-wess

 

FINALLY, he lost his top tooth. It's been loose over a YEAR! The bottom one you see missing was loose a week and then gone. Anyhow, I am half-way writing this blog in hopes that maybe my 7 year old will login and happen upon blogspot and accordion me. This is for you son...

NOOOO, the tooth fairy doesn't like some kids better than other kids. I happen to think a DOLLAR is quite a sum to collect for a little chunk of tooth. And look how entirely CLEVER she was. We put your little tooth into a plastic bag, tied a knot and voila', the next morning the tooth is gone and replaced with cold hard cash in the same plastic bag with the knot never being untied. WOW! (Hey, I always fell for it growing up.) Why, "back in the day"...I think the going rate was about twenty five to fifty cents. So paper money is progress and about as good as it's gonna get. It will continue to only have a one on it. Who knows why that fairy is paying some kids $5! I think it's silly. And why must you continue to take the fun outta being little. Quit asking if "we" are poor now and that is why you ONLY got one dollar. Quit asking if I am really the tooth fairy. BUT, if you happen to login and happen to come across blogspot and happen to know how to type accordionme...well...this is for YOU dear boy....I AMMMMM the tooth fairy...and ya better quit yer complaining or you're getting cut off!

Home Sweet Home

My new home. (I didn't say house. I said Home.)

Hawt or Nawt pt. 2

OK, mindless blog here. Reference Hawt or Nawt from past blogging. Once again, NAWT! It's no secret that I have a little inner rockstar in me (ok, maybe even a little outer). But this does not mean I want or need to look like Joan Jett!

Seriously, you would think 2 strikes and she should be out right! Problem is, I've been earning money and had hoped to get ma hair cut ala' FREE in a few months with those funds. But is it worth it to re-visit my master stylist butcher? Me thinks not!

SO, I guess I will be fore-going my moola and heading down to Muse on K. Hear it's THE spot. Yep, my girl Kell goes there. She gots cute hair. Julie Roach owns it and she's way HAWT. SO...I'll give it a whirl and my cash.

I have an opinion...read at your own risk.

OK, so...if you're a friend of mine, I'm sorry ahead of time and please know that the person with "depth" that you know and love is STILL in here...but this blog may be a little shallow and narrow minded and stereo-typish. And mom, I know you check in from time to time as well and I said I didn't care. Well, for all of you...I ask you to accept this blog for what it is...a momentary rant about a newly found/understood opinion on something I never really even thought to have an opinion on before but happen to think I'm right as usual type of thingy. Whew...onward we go.

SO, I'm almost officially divorced. Matter of days now. This seems to invite questions about my willingness, anticipation, desire to start dating. The EASY answer is...I'm not dating and I've got plenty to keep me busy without dating and I don't have an absolute answer for your questions because I just don't know and I don't sit around planning it out. THAT SAID...I have developed an opinion. I'll probably get raked over the coals by a few ppl for this opinion, but that's all it is. An opinion. Maybe even a little rant?

SO, I'm thinking that a single 28 year old man is probably more mature than a single 38 year old man. Yep, I said it. Or at least that's what I've been observing. Here's my theory. A 28 year old man is kinda at that age that he's probably not been married before, but he's totally ready and wants the American Dream. He's a "man" now and ready to settle down in career, family, etc. Well, the 38 year old "single" men are probably divorced, probably don't have their children living with them and have probably re-entered the club scene. It's easy for them. They don't have the same responsibilies as before. (Now, I'm not trying to make light of them not having their kids, that's a whole 'nother blog and it makes me sad. Stick to subject at hand.) They're like over-grown little boys at recess...only I guess that little boys at recess aren't ending the night having sex with random women -or women that you know "really well" because you've been chatting on myspace or hanging at the clubs 3 whole weeks together. YES, I said that too! And on that note, just because you have sex with one woman for 2 months and had a "real" relationship before changing women in a week doesn't make you any less of a ho. (None of this is even mentioning the ego-entrancing attention they get from younger women. Um, can you guys say "sugah-daddy" LOL. I'm pretty sure if I get attention from a younger guy he's not thinking I can support his artificial nail and shoe fetish.)

There's some kind of notion that just because a woman is divorced she will be free to re-enter club/and/or dating scene as well. Gotta admit, I LOVE to dance, I LOVE to hang out with friends, I LOVE to laugh, and if I'm there, I guarantee I'll be the life of the party and you won't want me to leave. But I will. And chances are I won't be there. I'm a mom. I'm an adult. I have responsibilities that involve others than myself and I kinda value relationships at a different level. As much fun as a night out may be, I'll get over it. I won't need to do it every other night or even every week. I'm in a different league and not going backwards.

SO...does this mean that I eventually find a 28 year old man (not 22-25, because they're still kids and have invented this word MILF which I have been called many times and I don't like to be called names so there...)? Simple answer is NO...it just means I have a newly-found opinion.