Happy Monday

So this post will be short, as its from my phone and I need to take the kids to school. And I've been writing novels lately and for some of you, its just WAY too much. We have been trying to get our house ready to put up for sale. This process sucks. I'm worried that people won't be charmed by our quaint little love nest. All this stuff needs to be done and fixed, and my inner clueless-perfectionist is coming out in full, neurotic force. I'm using this picture of Syd to ground me. Because though she's so sweet in it, she hates that hat almost as much as wearing shoes. Yet she still summoned up a smile for me. I'm gonna try being like that this week. If it doesn't work out, then I'll just go back to my pessimistic and complainy self. But at least you all know that I've put forth the effort. And points for trying, right?

Poor Me.

Even though I am this person now, there are still days I truly feel like this person:  

So I'm telling you now, that you may just want to skip this post, as I'm a bit of a sadsack presently, and it may be a total waste of your time.  Honestly?  When I read posts such as this, it just pisses me off.  I mean, I know we all have our days when we feel less than stellar, but I just find people that insist on fishing for compliments..lame.   In fact, there's a certain blog I stalk in which that person does it often.  (Also, this person is very good about telling you why you should compliment them). And, because I would rather do anything than housework, I usually end up reading it--and being overly annoyed with that person.  Yes, I bring it upon myself for being nosy.  (Let me say that I see nothing wrong with fishing for sympathy.  As it's my favorite thing to do.  And I've already admitted on countless occasions that I'm the biggest hypocrite I know).  I don't know why I feel like I need to complain about stuff that really isn't all that particular, but I WILL complain, because that's what I do. 

Anyway, moving on. 
I can't really talk about this with Jeff.  And sometimes that makes me mad.  So I'm typing it out.  And the reason I can't talk about it with him, is because he reacts to me the same way I react to the aforementioned blog.  It just annoys him that I have a really sweet deal, and yet I still find some excuse to feel sorry for myself.  And by feeling sorry for myself, I mean poor me:  I'm getting older.  Poor me:  My childhood was crappy sometimes.  Poor me:  I'm not and never will be a size 6.  Poor me:  I'm not the smartest person in the world.  Poor me:  My face is breaking out and I'm 32 years old.  Believe me, I feel petty.  I KNOW this is petty stuff.  But what I want to know is, do other people feel this way?  I mean occasionally?  Is this just a girl thing?  Do guys do this?  I know there are times when Jeff is mopey, but that's usually because he's been working a bazillion hours and hasn't slept in three days. And he never feels guilty about eating something that he really wanted just then--it's never the embarrassing, pathetic stuff that in my head, seems to be all encompassing RIGHT.  THIS.  SECOND.  I thought I left this behind in High School.  I mean, for the most part, I have but there are still those times that it sneaks up on me.  And then I can't get it out of my head.  Again, like in my childhood when I was a crybaby....I still am, btw, but I have it better under control.  I used to threaten myself that I would punch my own face in if I started crying at that moment.  And no, it didn't work.  Like me trying to control my own lame crybaby, mopey feelings--it seems to just escalate things. 
It's not like I don't have a lot to be responsible for, I have Jeff, and my kiddos, the house, the cars, the lawn, the day to day living stuff, etc. and it keeps me pretty busy, and my concern for these items comes before my own...Unless I'm having one of these times.  Then I'm just, "poor me". 


When I was in high school, I worked at a sandwich place, and my boss was a repugnant pig.  Not only did he brew his own beer and wine in the closet on the premises, but he also would allow all the GIRLS he'd hire, (because he would only hire girls), taste it when it was ready.  Remember Leah? Not about the tasting stuff, about the grossness that was Greg.  Now, this really didn't affect me, because I wasn't one of the girls he was interested in.  I just made sandwiches during the lunch hour, the evenings and weekends.  He hired some beautiful girls, because he wanted them.  And he'd flirt shamelessly, as long as his wife, whom lost more than 100 pounds in order to "save their marriage", stayed away from the shop. 
K.  Now all that information was basically useless, but I had to give a little background before my main point.  

There was one girl in particular that he absolutely doted on.  And this wasn't surprising, because she was doted on by EVERYONE.  She was athletic and smart and what I thought of as truly beautiful.  She was on the "A" team in every sport, and she was in every academic honor, so teachers loved her, too.  Physically, she was tall with a very girly-athletic build, brown hair that was curly and shiny, a big smile and freckles that she hated, but they completely added to her look.  (I am a freckles fan, you see.  Because they're adorable, duh). 

Her name was Brittany Lashley.  She was a couple years older than me, and we weren't friends, by any means...she had her group of friends, was massively popular, and I was younger and awkward and shy and not popular.  Not a lot of things that she was. But when I worked with her, it gave us the opportunity to talk.  To just be people in a place that either had to acknowledge each other, or have a very silent five hour shift that would seem like 30. It was during these times that I think the high school paradigm that I'd created began to shift...because she had everything.  Everyone knew who she was, her family was wealthy and they seemed really put together, and then adding in the previously mentioned stuff, I couldn't find a reason that she'd be the way she was.   

Brittany was like, the least self-confident person I ever met.  And maybe I say that because my expectations were so high that when I found out how she worried and fished for compliments and got upset about the dumbest things ever, it floored me.  Here I was, probably weighing the same amount as she did, and it was NOT athletic muscle, and being about five inches shorter than her, two years younger, not nearly as smart, not as many friends, and no one, except for a few of my close friends gave a crap about how or where I was.  I literally would spend the entire five hours of work telling her that she was worthwhile and no, I didn't think her boyfriend was cheating on her, (though I did and he was), and no, her butt wasn't fat, (it was great, really), and though her honors courses were difficult, she could only do the best she could.  (I think that there were only like 2 honors courses available to seniors at that time, and then they were called "College Prep", so in comparison with real honors courses, they probably didn't).  

And then there was the way Greg, our boss, would drool all over her, and she ate up the attention.  And not that it isn't nice to have someone admire you, but Greg was the equivalent of the scary gas station guy that seems okay until you remember he works in a gas station, and he says something so repulsive to you that you never go there again, even if you're on empty. I don't know, it was just surreal to me, you know?  And it ruined something...I couldn't ever think of her the same way, again.  Instead of idolizing her and thinking she was something extraordinary, I just sorta...pitied her.  Kind of like when you hear that an actor or a model or a comedian gets to this point where people kind of know who they are, and then they kill themselves.  Yeah, that's a really drastic comparison, but my point is, why do we have such a hard time accepting and embracing that that's the best of us, and focus on our worst?  I honestly wonder if it's human nature, or if it's severe lack of self worth, because if there's anything I hate more than anything, it's me being sulky and sad about stuff that is beyond my control, when I have so much to be grateful for that I can't even list it all.  It could be so many things...but I think what would kill me is if I found that I am someone that is made worthwhile by what others think of me.  Because I have no pleasing facts about myself to myself.  Does that make any sense?  Maybe not, as I'm tired...and this post has taken me forever, and if you've given up reading a long time ago, you're more than forgiven because if this weren't about me, I totally would have.  

So I've decided that despite the fact that I'm a wife and a mom, and a woman, and a decision maker, and house cleaner, and grocery shopper, and a car and house taker-carer, I'm also "poor me".  I'm also that person that has to have down times so I can really enjoy my up times.  I'm complicated and weird and still have thoughts and emotions that I don't know what to do with.  But I do believe that I'm good for my family.  Whatever else, I do believe that, and so I really cling to it in times like this. 
Anyhow, thanks for stopping by.  If you did read this novel, I hope you won't be fired from your two hours of non-productiveness.  However, if you do, I'm not going to blame myself.  See how far I've come?  ;)

A few of my Favorite Things.

So I have been meaning to do this post for a while now.  But I kept having to find stuff that would make the cut.  And, I had to weed out that that wasn't as fabulous.  Phew.  Now you all can know true awesomeness.  I'm a giver. But I've told you that. And see how studious I look in my glasses?  Boom.  


I've mentioned my best Wyoming pal, Moriah's website:  http://www.gleegarden.com.
Basically, she gets input from all her friends, famous and non, (I'm unfortunately in the "non" category, but I'm still smokin' cool, obviously), about everything worth knowing about.  Make-up, Jewelry, Gizmos, Decor, etc; there really isn't anything she doesn't cover.  And she updates it daily.  So I read her reviews, and try some things, and lust after others.  It's actually been like watching an infomercial.  But about interesting stuff.  So, I'm copying her.  I can find cool stuff.  I can!  Hide and watch, Suckas. 


Anyhoo, let's get this party started.  So, I have to rave about the series I've been reading.  Yeah, yeah..I know I should just put it under the "what I'm reading" category to the side of my blog, but these books are deserving of something more.  Firstly, though, let me tell you about the greatest program ever:

I came upon this site like, four years ago.  It's been so radical, I can't even tell you.  My public library sucks.  It never has the books I want to read.  But I've gotten so many books from Paperbackswap that it makes my head spin.  (Fyi:  Just because the site is called "paperback" swap, that doesn't mean it's limited to paperbacks.  I've recieved comics and graphic novels and hardcovers).  And what's the greatest part about it?  They've been FREE.  Yeah, I have to pay shipping, but that's it.  Check this program out.  If you read, it will save you so much money.  And you're recycling.  Do you have some old books lying around that you didn't think were that great?  Try this program and you won't be sorry.

*Also, if you do check it out you will notice that there is a DVD swap, and a CDswap.  I'm a member of CDswap, and it's saved me thousands of bucks.  Seriously.  I'd totally recommend this, too.  (And so would Jeff, for those of you that are highly skeptic, like he is).  

Now, for my literary recommendation: 
I'm on book #9 (Shown) in a series that's been around for quite a while, and they even turned it into a TV show a few years back.  But, it was kind of lame.  Luckily, I'd read a couple of the Dresden Files books before seeing the show, and I wasn't deterred from continuing.  They keep getting better.  Sometimes I have to savor a book series...this is one of them.  It's something that I have to slowly go through, so I don't end up at the end, not being able to wait for the next book to be written.  I imagine myself kind of like Kathy Bates, in Misery.  If I could find Jim Butcher, lock him up, and have him write adventures of Harry Dresden just for me?  I would.  Anyway, I've told you what kind of books I like to read.  These are them.  Minus some of the usual skank. (For anyone that's interested, below is the beginning of the series).

As you all know, I don't have TV.  Anyway, you should know, cause I've complained about it quite a few times, and if you can't remember, SHAME ON YOU.  Because of this, I'm not overly clued in on those "As seen on TV" items, like others are.  For instance, remember the Christmas before last when I got some Snuggies sent to my front door for someone else, and I had no clue what they were?  Yeah, yeah, long story short, I ended up stealing them, but that's not what I'm talking about right now.  Right now, I want to tell you about these: 

That's right, Yo.  Now my CANS of Diet Dew can be bottles.  And I like to match my cans with one of the six different colors of tops I can choose.  You're nothing if you don't accessorize.  Believe it.  
I was innocently shopping at Target, (surprise!), and I saw a package of these hanging by the soup section.  (I know, right?!)  So I took a chance and bought them.  Having NEVER seen the infomercial, I was going on faith in American genius.  And my faith was rewarded, my friends.  In addition to myself, Riley and Cole are hardcore believers in the pure wonder that is:  Bottle Tops.  Fun for everyone. 


I've said time and time again that if I could, I would drink everything.  I love the feel of a bottle in my hand, or a fancy drinking container, or a very special mug.  Add that to a delicious beverage, and I'm in my happy place.  I guess you could say that it's a very good thing I abstain from alcoholic drinks, as it could be very detrimental to me.  With my love of beverages and my mainly Native American/Irish background, well, that could cause even more behavioral problems than I already have.  Anyhoo, moving on.  I've already shown you  my beloved bottle tops, now for my ceramic coffee cup--or hot chocolate/Chai tea cup, as is the case with me.  

Isn't she pretty?  I love the silicone top and the sleeve that protects my lips and little hands from the hotness within.  Completely dishwasher safe, so protects my little hands from disgusting dishwater, too.  It's a must-have people.  For those of you that enjoy a warm drink now and then, make your way to Boarders, and pick one up.  I'm sure you can get them elsewhere, also, but that's where I found mine.  (And Jeff's).  I don't know about all you, but at times I have to justify purchases for myself with purchases for Jeff, as well.  I don't want to be deemed more stingy than usual, by any means. 

These are recent.  And totally addictive.  My sister-in-law, Shauna dropped these off my house a few nights ago--just cause she wanted me to have the "best biscotti", and those were her words, my friends, not mine.   Five delicious flavors to enjoy with one of my favorite warm beverages.  Can I just tell you how fancy I feel?  Each time I try I different flavor, I'm sure that one is my favorite. But I will say this:  the German chocolate one is divine.  It was one of those things that I ate with great trepidation....because with each new bite, more was missing.  I'm not sure where she got them, but I need to know.  As I'm almost out.  And I'm jonesing, big time.  


Okay, that's all for now.  I do have to say that it's a good thing that my friend Moriah's blog is the professional one, and mine isn't.  As she cares about spelling, and grammar and other stuff that companies find important when advertising their wares.  But I know good stuff when I see it/use it/taste it.  So go shopping, and know you're gonna be pleasantly surprised.  Later dudes.



 

In a Funk.

So many things are happening, but they're "so-so" in the interesting department.  However, for the sake of giving you all something to read other than miscellaneous Facebook comments and spam emails, I'm giving you the details, anyway.  Yoooou're welcome.  

Syd and I are currently sick.  Not just coughing, sniffing sick, but in-need-of-a-toilet-constantly sick.  (Or, in Syd's case, diaper change and massive consumption of A&D ointment, sick).  Yeah.  Things just got too interesting, didn't they?

In other news,  Cole has lost his second front tooth, however, his previously lost tooth has already started growing in, so the chance that  he's not doomed to repeat my 3rd through 6th grade look, has just gotten better.  Did that even make sense? 

Riley now knows that there isn't really a Santa Clause or any of those other "fun to believe in" beings.  After a few of her questions regarding the unlikely coincidence that Santa has the same penmanship as Jeff and I, and that Santa ALWAYS uses the same wrapping paper that we do,  Jeff and I thought that she had figured out the entire system and decided to let her in on the fun.  However, we were completely wrong, and she hadn't figured it out.  After some tears and confusion, we told her to remember that the true meaning of Christmas is being grateful that Jesus was born and the Holidays will still be very fun,  and that "Santa" will always be dear to our hearts, because his example is to reward those that are good to others and make children happy. We also told her that we'll need her help during the holidays to be our best sidekick for her little brother and sister, who are still "believers".  Like the Riley we know and love, she accepted the responsibility with grace and enthusiasm and we recently instated her to be the tooth fairy for Cole's aforementioned tooth.  She did a fantastic job.   
Syd has decided to stop saying MaMa, for BaBa.  Normally this wouldn't upset me, but she is still adamant about saying "DaDa", and my jealous nature seems to be as prominent as ever.  She has been so sweet, even though she's felt crummy, and when I came down with what she has, I realized that what I had originally thought of as her being "whiny", was actually her being brave and stoic. Because these stomach pains and dizzy spells are killing me. 
Jeff is constantly working on some freelance stuff that makes me feel like I'm married to an android having an affair with his laptop.  I know that this means money for us and a lot of hard work for him, but sometimes...especially when I'm sick and PMSal, I just want him to drop everything and pay attention to me.  That's not too much to ask, is it?  
Anyway, I am hoping that things are on the mend.  Jeff's freelance is getting finished up, (and I do want to point out that I'm thankful he's in such high-demand), Syd and my stomachs seem to be on the way toward feeling better, Cole says he "feels" a tooth growing in his empty pit, and Riley is now excited to be a "Santa's Helper" next year.  I have high hopes for the upcoming week.  I do have to attend Parent/Teacher conferences on Thursday after the kids have school, and then we all have a four day weekend.  So that's good stuff, right?  Hope so. 

Eleven Years.

K.  It's Early.  Or late.  Whatever.  But today, in a few hours, Jeff and I will have been married for eleven years.  I've been pregnant and given birth three times, we've lived in two different places, Jeff has had four jobs.  Our lives have changed a bazillion ways.  And there have been some really hard times.  It sounds weird saying that now, because our lives are going so blessedly well.  But there were times when I didn't know what we were doing--if we'd make it. Not just Jeff and I, but our whole family.  Would we ever get to a point where we could feel like we weren't drowning, financially?  Would we ever feel like adults...people that could take care of ourselves and our little ones? I remember times of feeling helpless and scared--of questioning what it was exactly that I thought I was doing.  
When Jeff and I were first married, life was different, as I've assumed by now it always must be.  We were two different people from very different families that quickly decided to become a team, together.  Getting through those times of figuring out what we would do about situations, and opinions, and personal beliefs was pretty difficult, and I imagine that stuff would be VERY difficult if the two people were really convinced that one or the other's way of life was the "right" way.  It took Jeff and I a long time, and some confusing moments to figure out what our stance was on everything important.  Sometimes we agreed, and sometimes we didn't....but we learned that by respecting each other, by having the outlook of being best friends and individuals, we circumvented a lot of pitfalls.  

A lot sooner than expected, we found that we were going to have Riley.  And she's been with us almost as long as Jeff and I have been together.  I remember my first initial reaction to knowing Jeff and I were going to be parents.  And it wasn't overly thrilled.  I'm ashamed to say that, now....because I've gotten older, and I've seen that baring children isn't something all of us get to do when we feel like we are ready.  That breaks my heart, because my children bring me so much joy, but I also have seen that so many of us are needed in different ways.  That it may not seem fair or make much sense, but if there is one thing that I've had to learn in my marriage, and in my life it's that for some reason, everything isn't up to me.  There are choices that I make time and time again, that never work out....and then, maybe they do, but not when I expect them to.  Call it what you will, God, Karma, Fate, I choose the first, but I feel like I've been taught a lot of things.  I'm grateful for that.  This keeps me thankful for the victories, even when they were something I initially didn't think I wanted. And faithful that good things happen to good people.

Anyway, enough about me.  This is mainly about Jeff.  And Riley, and Cole, and Syd.  These past 11 years have gone by so quickly.  My oldest is almost 10.  This was really inconceivable about nine years ago.  Jeff has seen me at my worst.  Lived with me, at my worst.   And he's still here.  He's helped me turn into a parent.  He's supported me and our babies.  He constantly amazes me with how gifted a father he is...how my children love him and want to be near him, always.  How if I, or the kids, or anyone need something, all they have to do is ask, and he'll make time for everyone.  He lets us know that we are most important...and I'm high-maintenance enough that this is a huge factor of our relationship enduring. There are so many things that Jeff does for me each day, everyday, that a lot of the time I take them for granted.   I forget to thank him for the work, the love, the support, the advice, the listening ear...he's everything to me and for me.   Thank you, My Love.  There's no one else that could give me everything...but you do, and you always have.

I hope you'll excuse my randomness, as I'm tired and excited, and a bit overwhelmed by the good things in my life right now.  But know this:  If the next 11 years are anything like these past ones, and I can share them with these people?  I'm in.  And very happy about it. 

Stealing Kelli's post idea

So Kelli took this idea from US Weekly, and I love stuff like this, (Reading it about other people, I mean...not so much doing it), so I'm stealing this idea from Kelli.  And I'm encouraging everyone and anyone to do the same.  Cause I'll read it with great interest, fyi.  


25 things about me:

1.  I'm the oldest of four kids.  And though they are all grown and have their own lives and such, I still feel like I need to look out for them.  Old habits die hard, I guess.  However, the truth is, I was never a very good sister.  I was mean and impatient, and that was a huge reason I didn't really want to be a mom.  I love my siblings, and loved them then, but I wasn't kind, and I said a lot of things that I still regret to this day--not fond memories.  Luckily, my sisters and brother are forgiving people and my relationship with my kids isn't like the relationship I had with my siblings.  I really feel like having Jeff has helped me in that area, big time.  It's nice to have someone to keep you on your toes.  Maybe having siblings is some kind of trial run for one day having your own family?  


2.  I lean toward the left side of politics.  However, I do have some conservative views as well.  I have a hard time with people that continually blame all problems on the President, or Senators, or Congress--I feel like it shows no responsibility or imagination.  I don't fully believe any politicians, regardless of religion, or past, or heritage.  I feel like to be a successful politician, you have to be really slimy.  Otherwise, you would have gotten out of the game a long time ago.  And you also have to be a people-pleaser.  Because that's what a politician's life is, and that's what they are paid to do.  I also hate doing the reading and studying of political stances and opinions and whatever.  Because it always changes.  


3.  Sometimes I have panic attacks that Jeff, Riley, Cole, or Syd will be hurt or disappear.  It happens at nights, mostly.  Especially if I wake up and can't go back to sleep.  It's been a lot more frequent since I lost my dad.  

4.  This time of year is my favorite time.  Not just because it's the Holiday season, but from October to December is time period when Jeff and I first began dating/seeing each other exclusively/engaged. Um, in that order, and yes, that quickly.  It was quite a few years ago, but it seems like I can recall a lot of those feelings at this time of year.  Add in the factors of Riley, Cole, and Syd, and I have so much more than I could have imagined when I thought about what life would be with Jeff.  It's better than I imagined.  


5.  I love things that smell good.  I'm obsessed with smelling plug-ins, and candles, and oil and reed diffusers and anything that makes my home smell not like...people.  And I could stay in stores like Bath and Body Works for hours.  And buy everything they show me.  If I were rich, I'd buy that entire place.  


6.  I can't sleep without a body pillow and a fan.  Sleeping anywhere other than my own bed causes me great anxiety.  Almost to the point of making any attempts to be away from my home a night or two not worth it.  


7.  Speaking of anxiety, I used to believe that I was turning into a person more like my husband, in that I've gotten to the point where I just like to be home, and anything outside of my day-to-day routine causes me stress.  And I am now thinking it's because my anxiety has gotten out of control. Either that, or I AM just overly anti-social, like Jeff.  It's a toss-up. 

8.    I usually don't get scared watching movies.  But Quarantine, with Deb, from Dexter?  Scared the $h!* out of me.  I am freaked out by people becoming zombies or monsters through science-gone-wrong. 


9.  I am positively terrified of tape-worms.  One of the reasons I refuse to have a dog. 



10.  I wish everyday that I was skinny.  Somehow the idea of being skinny seems like it would solve every problem I ever had/have in my life.  


11.  My dream house is on sale here in Springville.  It's the house I have daydreamed that if I were a millionaire, I would have gone up to the door, and offered the owner a very large sum of money just to hand it over to me.  I'm sure it's way out of any conceivable price range Jeff and I will ever have.  So I refuse to check the price, because I know the truth will break my heart.  


12.  I love Christmas music.  Rather than being annoyed with it, like a lot of people, it makes me happy.  And when musical groups or artists that I regularly listen to put out a Christmas song, I take it as a personal victory.  Happy day for me. 


13. I have started to notice wrinkles around my eyes.  And it's kind of scary how quickly it's happened.  Not that it's bad, though.  They're mainly laugh lines.  I'm just surprised how one day I woke up and saw them.  This kind of freaks me out about how quickly time passes. 


14.  Before I met Jeff, I went to lunch with Keri one day.  And when I got into her silver Honda, she had like, three Tori Amos CDs on her passenger side floor.  I said something about loving Tori Amos, and then she told me that the CDs weren't hers, they were her brother's.  In that instant, I was interested in her brother, whom I later found out was Jeff.  I always said that if I'd ever found a guy that loved Tori the way I did, that would be it.  And I was right.  


15.  There is nothing more fun for me to buy than lip gloss.  I couldn't even tell you how many tubes/sticks/pots I have in my room, my purse, my car...you get the idea.  


16.  I can't go into Video rental places...or DVD rentals...whatever they're called now.  They cause me so much anxiety I feel like I want to barf.  Or throw all the stuff to the ground.  I don't know why, but I start out with a headache as soon as I walk through the door, and hit complete crazy town about six minutes later.  Redbox is a lifesaver for me. 



17.  I'm always amazed when I watch The Office at my feelings for Michael.  I find it confusing that I can absolutely detest someone and be embarrassed by them, and feel sorry for them, all at once.  But I'm also relieved that I can feel such a wide range of emotions during a prime-time television show.  Say what you will, but The Office makes me feel.

18.  Music can make anything better. However, I really despise any type of "Christian Rock", by any artist.  I can't get over the lameness of it. 


19.  Jeff only works two days a week.  Well, technically he works five days a week, but he only goes into the office two days.  And those are the worst days of my week.  Honestly, I wasn't sure how it would be, having him home so often...especially since I'd become so accustomed to him being gone.  At first it was an adjustment.  Now I absolutely hate Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I feel like he now has to stay at PMI forever, because if he went back to a "regular" work schedule, I'd die.  

20.   I have two friends that live in my neighborhood.  In the summer we go walking at nights, or just get together to have our kids play, or watch movies.  We all have kids in various stages and we are all alike in our personal belief systems and just seem to laugh a lot when we're together.  Also, I can be really honest with them, and I don't feel judged.  It's nice, because that is kind of rare, I think.  

21.  I hate when people refer to themselves in the third person.  Rainey doesn't like that.  Not at all.  See how creepy that is?


22.  In my dreams, I am Hi. Larious.  Seriously.  Jeff pointed out that this is only in my dreams, but when I wake up in the middle of the night, wondering how I got to be so witty and comical while comatose, I sometimes even laugh aloud.  Then I really try to remember what it is that I said, and wait all the next day to use it in context.  Mostly I don't ever get the chance...but when I do?  That's a good day, my friends.  


23.  Sometimes I think that if I could get away with staying the entire day in my bed, I would.  Sometimes I actually try it.  And then I have to pee.  And from there, all Hell breaks loose, so by now I should realize that it is in fact, an impossibility.  But every Saturday, I wonder if it will be "the day". 



24.  When I can help someone...really help them, it makes me happy.  Perhaps that is the "spirit of service" everyone talks about.  However, when people expect me to help them, like, it's my job or something?  It makes me think up any excuse to get out of it.  And I end up resenting it.  And then I find ways to avoid those people and their--demands, I should say--from then on.  
On the other hand, when I can't help someone that really needs it, my heart breaks a little.  And it can make me sad for days, because there is nothing I can do, and I feel helpless.



25.  I am fiercely protective of my family.  For the trash that I talk and the opinions I have, it may not seem like it...but I am.  I guess the main thing that I've learned as I've grown older, is that no one is perfect, or even close.  And we say things that imply that we know how to make others perfect, when that isn't the case, at all.  So to friends and family that wonder?  You're loved.  Maybe I don't show it the way that I should.  Maybe I can't right now.  Maybe I have a lot of things inside that don't make any sense or make too much sense, that I'm trying to work out, before I explode and say hurtful things that I don't really mean.  I have come to a different conclusion of what family is...very different than what I had thought it was for a long time.  And I'm still working on that conclusion.  I'm still figuring out where I fit in.  So I ask for time and patience, but I don't demand it.  If there are some that can't understand the reasoning behind my actions, that's okay, and I say, I don't expect to be understood.  But if you could try to respect my feelings,  however different and confusing they are, I will try to respect yours.  Thanks, and much love. 

My Bubby turned 1.

And I turned a little more than 1.  Hopefully the year's growth in me isn't as obvious as it is with my Squish.  The top picture was courtesy of Desisto Digitals, obviously...and that doesn't seem that long ago.  You all saw my fabulous Jeffrey's post dedicated to how wonderful I am.  ;)  I honestly hate putting anything up after he does that, though.  It just makes me so happy to read about how great he thinks I am on any given day. And to see your wishes for a happy birthday to me--well, it just makes for some good reading.  Ahh.   See how much Syd means to me?  I'm giving all that up.  For her.  

So my little Squid is now a year old.  Oooh how I love my Bubby-Boo.  I'm a little sad that this time has come, and so quickly.  She's only been here with us for a little over 12 months, but somehow she's completely assimilated herself into our little family.  She's bossy and gassy and grabby, and grumbly...but no matter what she does, she's our baby.  She's waited on, and catered to, and spoiled rotten.  And she's a brat...the biggest brat by far of my babies.  But for some reason, this is acceptable to all of us.  This is her "thing", or the niche that she fills in our family.  Needless to say, we all have fallen in love with her.  And she takes full advantage.  

We went to Pirate Island Pizza.  We'd never been before, and no, the fact that Sydney only turned a year old didn't escape me, I knew that she wouldn't get much more out of it than some bites of pizza, but I wanted Riley and Cole to have some stuff to do, too.  We had my sister and brother and his wife come with us, as well.  Which I was happy that they braved the cold night, and came to keep us company.  And Jess had to tell me that our waiter was faking a pirate accent.  Which, I was glad that he did, because I wasn't very keen on the fakeness of it...and could very easily see me asking where he was from later on.  And then when he would have said "Provo", or "West Jordan", I would have felt incredibly dumb.   On a different topic, I need to give Muff props as last month she surprised me and Syd by making this cute little skirt.  And Sydney loved it--she'd be so completely pissed when I would take it off of her.

So it was fun, I thought.  We just ate dinner and then played at the arcade.  The kids had something to do, and so did Jeff, and I had a babysitter for Syd, (her aunt Gabby) and got to visit with my brother and sister.  It was a nice night.  I wished Lora would have been there, but that's how it goes when you're adults and have to live where you can work and such, I suppose.  Btw, Riley and Cole and Jeff won me some super cool items, and I'll treasure them for pretty much ever.  I mean, what can't you do with a five inch tall pirate bear?  Exaaaaaactly.   

After the eating and the winning and the gifts for Syd--some really cute cars and some balloons, and a blanket that she hasn't put down, we all went home.  I always wondered as a kid why my mom got so completely stressed about kid birthday parties.  Now I know.  Even when they go well, they are just a lot of work.  I had stressed about it all day, and Muff and Jeff helped me a lot.  And I didn't even have to do any cooking or entertaining or anything.  I think that it was just going out and getting out of my pajamas, or something.  

Then it was time for MY presents.  I got the new Super Mario Brothers Wii game.  And fyi...I love it.  I'm not much of a video game player, but it's a different story with the classics.  And I got some jewels, and some clothing, and some music...and I got to play with all my new toys before bed.  It was a good birthday. 

And Syd had fun, too, I think.  But like I said, she's a big brat...so maybe all of her complaining wasn't as good-natured as I led myself to believe.  But one thing IS for certain...Jeff and these little people we created are my very best friends.  They make me laugh harder and love stronger than I knew to be possible.  And I'm a lucky, lucky 27 year old.  Again.