Take Two Sleeping Pills And Don't Wake Me Till Morning

What a day this has been. I've been up and down (emotionally) so many times I think I finally wore myself out. Somedays are just like that. I've been missing my mom, missing my grandma, missing getting ready for the first day of school. The whole weekend has been a struggle and it's not even over yet.

The night ended well, though. The husband decided that since we've had a good rain two days in a row, it would be an ideal time to burn a pile of brush that has been stacked in the fire pit all summer. Although I wasn't convinced at first that a bonfire in mid-August was a good idea, I changed my mind real quick. He is in the process of converting a shed into a type of cabin for our oldest boy and we celebrated the completed front porch tonight by sitting there watching the fire. Our girl delivered freshly baked snicker-doodles and milk sometime around hour number two, I think.

Yes, indeed... we do a lot of sitting around here.
But now it's almost eleven and I do believe I'm done for the night.

Love you, Mom.
Miss you, Grandma.

And to all you teachers getting ready for the first day of school Monday morning, I'll be thinking of you. Of course, I'll be doing that thinking while I'm still in my pajamas, sipping coffee, and enjoying the quiet of a house.

But I'll be thinking of you just the same. =)

No Wonder We're Depressed

While researching some info for a paper I'm working on regarding women and depression, I came across the following video:

Not much else to say, is there?

The Countdown Is On...

To early bedtimes.
Alarm clocks ringing.
Form after form to sign.
Meetings to attend.

Homework.
Progress reports.
Grade cards.
Groundings.

Lectures on life.

I made a remark to a mom the other day that I was looking forward to the first day of school. A slight twinge of guilt drifted through the air when she said, "Not me. I wish I had them home longer."

Really? I mean, I love my kids. There's no doubting that. I enjoy their company and their humor and their insatiable appetite for anything edible. But I also like quiet. And non-bored faces.

All good things must come to an end. For this moment, that thing is summer vacation. I will be the one giving my husband a high-five when the last one is dropped off at school Monday morning. Don't hate me. Rejoice with me, if even for a short time.

We all know I'll be complaining about car lines by Thursday.

Words From My Grandma And Late Night Tacos

It's four in the morning and I'm wide awake. Well, the wide awake part would be an exaggeration... actually I am very tired. My eyes hurt. My head feels funny. My tummy just might be protesting that Taco Bell run we made sometime after ten o'clock last night. And yet, here I sit.

I was having the most amazing dream. My hair was long and full and brown (of all things) and full of the most beautiful curls. I was sitting in a bar (sorry Mom) with a man not my husband (sorry husband) talking about life. Then, at some point, the man got bored and my husband walked in, somewhat relieved that I had found somebody else to talk to if even for a few minutes. I am so not kidding here. This is the story of my life.

I woke up with a smile thinking about those beautiful curls. Dreams have a way of fading quickly, however, and as the cool air from the fan hit the back of my neck, I was reminded that my hair is not long, has more waves than curls, and is most definitely not brown. I could hear my husband snoring softly beside me and I was reminded of the reality in which we live.

We are both out of work with no real plan in sight. Just when it seems that there might be a sliver of hope, that hope is snatched faster than it can take root. Some might say it's a spiritual battle and others might just call it life. All I know is that with each passing day and each local news show, heaven is looking better and better. Shoot, drugs are looking better.

Did I say that out loud? Ha. Do you ever have thoughts like that? Who am I writing to anyway? I sometimes think a diary would be better, but then I have a fear of somebody reading it after I'm dead. How crazy is that? I sometimes think I should pull the plug on this one (blog) and start again, but I often feel like my life is nothing more than a bunch of re-starts. Not a bad thing, I know, but some things are just what they are. No sense hitting a delete button trying to pretend none of it happened.

Wow. This is turning out to be a tad bit depressing. I sure didn't mean it that way. The mind is a funny thing. One minute I can be full of hope and the next I can be certain things will never go my way. Maybe that's the ticket right there... my way. Good grief, will I ever learn? It's times like these I wish I could call my grandma. Somehow it always made me feel better to hear that she had the same struggles I did. I'll never forget the time she told me about her early days of marriage and her mother-in-law. I can still see her talking about it all. She was just as fired up about some sixty (or more) years later as she must have been when she was actually in the middle of it all.

It does help to hear people share their honest stories, doesn't it? Not those Sunday-suit-sitting-in-the-choir stories, but those down-to-earth-life-can-be-crap stories. I learn more from hearing how someone overcame adversary than from someone telling me what I should be doing, if that makes any sense. My grandma was like that. Sure she would tell me what I should be doing (for instance, I don't know how many times I had Hebrews 10:23-25 quoted to me by that little old lady) but she would also share her own experiences with me to try to teach me something. That meant a lot.

Anyway, I guess there's not much else to say. Today is a new day. Anything can happen. If I were to hang up hope altogether, I would truly have nothing to live for. I don't know... maybe I should get that diary.

And by the way, Hebrews 10:23-25 says this: Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering; (for he is faithful that promised;) And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works: Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.

That was her favorite verse to throw my way when I told her I was tired of going to church. I still repeat that same thing to myself often and have used it on the kids on more than one occasion. Thanks, Grandma. =)

Dear Katelyn,

Thirteen years ago we had a new baby girl that was destined to wear pink for at least one full year. I know that's not one of your favorite colors anymore... I'm guessing I probably ruined it for you (that and frilly dresses and hair bows and lacey socks). I would apologize, but it's hard to be sorry for something that was so much fun.

Actually, you and I have had a lot of fun times. I use to rock you and sing things like Bye-O Baby and You Are So Beautiful. You would play in the kitchen while I cooked and dig out every measuring cup and wooden spoon and bowl you could find. Maybe that's why you still enjoy the kitchen today. You've spent a lot of time in there.

Grandma Faye had you using a quilting needle when you were two and sewing on a machine by the time you were three. I'll never forget the time I picked you up from her house and your little finger was all needle-pricked... somehow you hadn't quite mastered the thimble yet, I think. Even today, if someone in the family needs something mended, they go to you.

Grandma taught you about canning and making grape jelly. I don't think there was much she wouldn't let you try. In fact, I'm pretty sure she was your first best friend. If we have done anything right in our life, it was raising you kids in a place where her house was just a walk away. I am so thankful she was a part of your first nine and a half years (and don't even get me started on Granny). You are one lucky girl.

So now you're thirteen and things like Barbies and American Girls and Big Baby are nothing more than a part of your memories of childhood. All you talk about now is i-pods and cell phones and laptops (and sorry... the answer is still no on all three of them). Don't fret, my dear, you've got a whole life ahead of you to gain access to all those techno marvels. There are just too many things in this world to compete for your attention. For now...

Enjoy your books.
Learn to relax.
Love your kitten.

Oh, and feel free to bake. Often.

Your dad and I are very happy with the young woman you are becoming. Your grandma would be thrilled. Yes, you're gonna have struggles, but that's just part of it. You've already overcome a lot in your young life; you'll think back on those times when things get hard. And remember everything your old mom has taught you:

God is all powerful.
Jesus will forgive.
You have a purpose.

And Starbucks makes the world go round.

With much love to you,

Your MOM
(not your friend, buddy, or pal, but ALWAYS your biggest fan)

P.S. Dad just read this and reminded me of the time you asked if you could call Grandma "Mom." I can still see her giggling when she told me that (even if I did NOT think it was funny at the time). Ha!

Give Me Enough Chocolate And Nobody Has To Get Hurt

There are few things in life that chocolate cake cannot fix.
Unfortunately, I may be knee-deep in the middle of one of those times.
But I still ate the cake, just to be sure.

What do you do when you know something you shouldn't know? And this is non-kid related, by the way. When those nagging suspicions that you've had pan out to be true and you're worried about somebody, do you stick your nose in or keep your nose out? The funny thing is that I was just talking about unsolicited advice a few entries ago. Maybe I should follow my own ramblings and just stay the heck out of it.

But, boy, is it hard. I really want to say something. Part of me wants to sneak up and say GOTCHA! Oh, and this involves all articles of clothing being on, just so you know. I'm not in to sneaking up on anybody in that fashion. I just hate dishonesty. I hate it when trust is broken. And I really hate being lied to or, in the case when no direct words are involved (hence no lying, you see), I despise being misled into thinking something is what it is not.

Are you all still with me? This is why I'm eating cake. It's a birthday cake, to be clear, but any excuse for cake is a good excuse for me. A friend of my kids having a birthday? Awesome! Bring 'em over and let's eat cake. As you all know, though, the tummy can be full and the heart not settled. That's where I am right now. All that's left is a smattering of chocolate crumbs and a half-full mug of lukewarm coffee. I couldn't possibly eat another bite, but I can nuke the coffee. Anything to keep me busy.

Like crocheting. I am officially hooked (get the pun?). Wow. Maybe I've had a little too much coffee. I love this new hobby, though, and fair warning to all my family members... Scarfs For Everybody This Christmas! If you have a color preference, you better get it in now. I'm on a roll. I actually have to discipline myself with my homework: no crocheting till I answer a question or read a chapter. Nah... who am I kidding anyway? I sat down now to work on some questions and the whole blog world can see that I'm not getting that done. So much for discipline.

You know, I've never been good with keeping my mouth shut. I think I might try it now just for kicks and see what happens. After all, is any battle really mine? I think not. I'm not promising anything, though. If I have to keep turning to cake to keep me from saying anything, the end result won't be pretty for anybody. Crocheting I can do. Reading I can do. Overload on the chocolate? Yeah. Let's not venture down that road.

Unless I can find diet chocolate.
Then all bets are off.

Don't Get In The Way Of My Latte

Well, we might as well assign a label to this one and keep a common theme rolling along. I'll try not to get to sappy and if you're anything like me and get tired (at times) at the constant updates in any one person's life... you might grow weary and think who cares?!? Also, when you consider the fact that I have two more kids behind him, this could get old pretty fast. At any rate, this blog is more or less for nostalgic purposes aimed at the family. If nothing else, my mother will absolutely love it.

We stood in four separate lines today to register the oldest for his senior year of high school. He walked in still riding high on the freedom of summer vacation. An hour later, he walked out carrying a stack of books, a locker combination, and a parking pass. I had my own packet of mandatory parent meetings, graduation stuff, and paid receipts. In two of the lines we watched as kids cut in front of us with the old tried and true method of I will stand here and laugh and talk to my friends like I don't know what's going on so I don't have to wait in the back of the line.

Yeah.
Take a number, kid.

As we made our way back to the car for our traditional let's get a Starbucks to mark the occasion, the oldest remarked to me that he was surprised I didn't say anything to the line-cutters. He knows me so well. All I could think was that I didn't want to rush any of it. I told him if I have learned anything in life, it's that we always don't have to be in so much of a hurry. If waiting in four separate lines while kids cut in front of us meant that I had one solid hour of standing and talking with my oldest, so be it. I don't mind the wait.

Of course, less than ten minutes later I was laying into my horn over some fool that tried to cut me off in the center turn lane. There's a mass difference between standing in line at the local high school and maneuvering through traffic during mid-afternoon. That made the oldest laugh. He was probably thinking, now that's the mom I know. He knows nothing stands in the way between me and a hazelnut latte, even if the moment is suppose to be all about him.

It's such a strange thing watching these kids grow.

I hope I never grow tired of it.