The Butrfly Garden

Long Time No See

2009-07-13T22:21:00.004-06:00

Not exactly "back," but not exactly gone.

My first summer being a "Work From Home Mom" has proved challenging. The hard part definitely isn't the "home" side (though, Break: Needed.) - the "work" side is what has proved challenging. Especially when I work from home, until I get an appointment, at which time I need to leave home - alone.

But before I know it, the summer will be over, they'll be back to school, and I'll spend my mornings not working because I'm just so lost by the quiet.

And then I'll only be able to blame the dog. (Who, by the way, is wonderful. And extremely time consuming. But also very cute.)

A few recent pics to share:

Mike and I at a good friend's wedding in May.

Alyssa fishing during our camping trip in June.

Evie sitting with "Mom" (Oh, Gawd, I know.) at the beach.

Alyssa and Evie after a boat ride.

(Nick doesn't "do" pictures often, unfortunately.)

I appreciate the checking in, friends. :)

Even by my Chinese Canned Ham friends. Because, why not?

I miss you dearly.

Meet Evie

2009-04-14T08:09:00.004-06:00

As if things weren't crazy enough around here, we have added a new member to the family.

Meet Evie - she's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

We got her at only six weeks old.

Now eight weeks, she's a biting and pooping machine, but when she sleeps, I can hear my heart of ice crackling from the thaw.

She is very smart and learns quickly, so I'm hoping that potty training gets better...soon. :)

Trashy

2009-03-14T23:11:00.004-06:00

Hi Friends. :)

Short update to excuse my disappearance because it's all the creativity I can muster:

I am officially a REALTOR in the state of Minnesota. I am STILL in training classes, but I'm trying to get out with people on appointments and such to get a little experience under my belt. To answer EVERYONE's question: No, haven't sold anything yet, but busy as heck anyway. I should be getting my first listing within the next couple of weeks. :)

Things are heating up with Nick getting to be that super fantastico magical number his mother keeps telling him about ("When you're 12, you get to decide where you want to live!"). Things have been really trying in this area of my life lately. However, we have FINALLY started the Total Transformation program that I received months and months ago. We've gotten through the first disk and it gives me a lot of hope - I plan on posting more about this later on.

I finally got to do a "Trash the Dress" (I like "Rock the Dress") shoot! We shot them at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. Here are a few:

I hope you are all doing well. I'm trying to make my rounds on the monthly reader catch-up, but I can't make any promises. :) Miss you all.

Work

2009-01-03T12:49:00.003-06:00

It's hard to believe I've been out of work for two months already. I've been working harder than I have in YEARS. Actual, physical WORK. Hammers and saws and lifting heavy things and being so absolutely filthy that all you can think about the whole way home is collapsing in the shower WORK. Frozen snot, double-layered gloves, wearing men's long underwear LAYERED and crappy winter boots being thankful when the God-forsaken wind STOPS for a minute WORK.

Not that I didn't feel my old job was work - people don't believe how exhausting it is to HAVE to sit all day or to have to stare into the glow of a computer screen until your eyes involuntarily close or spasm. While that work left me so mentally drained that even emotional interaction became yet another thing to do, physical work left my body aching and tired, but my mind and soul energized.

When classes started, it got a little more complicated. See, the plan my mom and I formulated was this: I helped her work on the house she is remodeling, she paid for the classes I needed in order to obtain my real estate license. So I crammed 106 hours of class into a month, while helping my mom with her house and my brother with his business on my off days. Not to mention still being mom and wife at home.

Suddenly, I was getting the worst of both working worlds - I was physically aching and mentally drained. Since I finished up my classes the week before Christmas, I took time off the laboring work as well so I had time to bake like mad for our "homemade" Christmas.

We had our Christmas fun, but I can't help but feel like I cheated myself from enjoying the season, and subsequently feel guilty for feeling that, knowing that I was doing what needs to be done. And that given the times and our circumstances, we were lucky we had the time, gifts and food that we did.

Now that the holidays are over, I have this weekend to relax and get my house back in order before I have to push full-force into this new career. It seems almost cheesy starting down a whole new path in life at the beginning of the year. Like a really bad book plot. But at least it will make doing my taxes easier.

So, that's where I am with life right now. Taking every day for what it is and pushing past the tight cocoon of limitations I had set for myself, hoping that this leap of faith lands my family on their feet.

Life

2008-10-31T09:28:00.003-06:00

I took my bike out for a ride this morning
The path was hilly and not completely paved

At times, it was a mundane ride
Just pedaling away and moving straight on my path

At times, I was so tired that I just wanted to quit
But I knew I had to get home eventually

And at times, it was exhilarating - flying down hills with little control
Feeling the wind against my face and loving every second of it

As I parked my bike back in my garage,
My body ached but my soul felt refreshed

I realized that such is life
Ups, downs and straights

And through it all, if we just keep pedaling
At the end of our ride, our souls will reflect all we’ve done

Regret

2008-10-30T08:53:00.003-06:00

All in all, I would say my wedding day was a beautiful day. I was so incredibly happy all day that even all the mishaps couldn’t stop me from smiling. Almost my whole family was there to be with us and it wasn‘t for something sad or terrible for once. And in the end, we accomplished what we set out to do: to become husband and wife.

But looking back now, I wonder what I spent that year of my life on. The planning and DIY tasks - they really didn’t consume as much time as I like to think. I spent that whole YEAR planning a party that was over in a few hours. I spent a whole year making plans and decorations that never even got used. All that time just for a few hours? I regret putting my life on “hold” to plan this thing when it obviously wasn’t needed.

And then, of course, there is the money thing. I promised myself we would not go into debt over the wedding. I promised myself (and my mother) that I would be more careful with this credit card. I knew we’d carry a little bit on our card until Mike got his tax return, but I wasn’t going to over that! Then little by little, the credit card added up. When I had my brother and sister caring for the kids and my grocery bill just wasn’t going to be gracefully extracted from my bank account any more, I charged it. Anything we needed (or, admittedly, wanted) but couldn‘t quite afford, I put on the card. And it added up to a lot more than Mike will be getting back. We are making HUGE monthly payments but it doesn’t seem to make a dent. I regret spending too much money when I know I should have been saving. I regret emptying my savings account to make a credit card payment instead of demanding that the church coordinator give me my deposit back NOW.

I have my little regrets over the wedding - waiting until the last minute to do a lot of stuff, being so stressed out and busy the day of, doing pictures before the ceremony but not getting that private moment with Mike when we first saw each other, letting people who didn‘t know what they were doing run my music when it was SO important to me. But really, those are very trivial things when I think of the time and resources that were piddled away on the whole deal.

And now. Now they are more than just regrets. They are mistakes. Because I lost my job yesterday. I have no money in savings. I have a huge credit card debt that is going to start accruing interest at the end of this year. I effectively screwed myself - which I SWORE to myself I would not do. I put my blog - the one thing I love that could actually bring in some sort of funds - on hold for so long that I lost my reader base. I put my family in jeopardy by spending my money frivolously.

Last month, Mike and I sat down and took a long hard look at our finances. We cut every corner we could in an effort to pay down our debt faster and hopefully get our savings going again. I finally got smart again, but it wasn’t soon enough. And now that our funds have been cut, we are going to have to do more than just cutting the unnecessary, we are going to have to make sacrifices.

I wish so badly that I could look back on my wedding with fond memories of “the happiest day of my life” like so many other brides. But for now, I look back on it with regret. Not in the marriage, of course - just in what it took to get there.

Here's the church...

2008-10-23T12:40:00.000-06:00

And here's the steeple...

But if you opened those doors, you wouldn't see any people.

We did pictures before the ceremony. ;)

Well, it's about time.

2008-10-21T15:18:00.001-06:00

October 15th

2008-10-15T09:13:00.002-06:00

It seems like I just posted this. Has another year really gone by?

From October15th.com:

"On September 28, 2006, House Resolution # 222 was passed in the House of Representatives supporting the goals and ideals of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day."

And thanks to the congressmen who passed the resolution and the many people who called and wrote their congressmen asking for their support, October 15th is now nationally recognized as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

Last Year

Impatient

2008-10-06T10:20:00.002-06:00

My photographer is running behind in getting me my pictures, so I asked her to at least email me our "Thank You" pictures so I could get some cards printed up. She embedded the pictures instead of attaching them, so the quality isn't good enough for Shutterfly. But, it was good enough for blogger. :)

It was a fun idea - but I wouldn't recommend doing it to anyone unless their photographer could ensure they'd have a high quality edited picture available soon after the wedding. I'm now one month past my wedding and haven't even started writing my thank-you cards, much less ordered them. :

Very fast Chicago/Honeymoon recap

2008-09-17T11:07:00.002-06:00

Thursday - Caught the Amtrak to Chicago at 7:50 a.m. Almost missed the train. Srsly - we were the people running with all their luggage at the "ALL ABOARD!" call. Train ride was lovely - the food was not as bad as expected. Arrived at our hotel around 4:30 (GREAT service here, but they charge for internet service and that almost killed me) and got acquainted with our room. Had dinner and a show at the 20's themed "speakeasy," Tommy Gun's Garage (good food, actually, although they almost sent me to the hospital with the surprise almonds in my green beans - show was great, too).

Friday - walked down to a shoreline park, then up through Navy Pier. Walked though downtown, rain started. Saw the Marilyn Monroe exhibit at the Cultural Center. Got a little freaked out. Walked around a lot more. Lunch at Buddy Guy's Legends (I know I sold myself short going here for lunch over dinner, but I am cheap and didn't want to pay the cover) where we enjoyed deep-friend okra, gumbo and a shrimp po' boy (for Mike). Walked around a lot more. Finally bought a Go Card for the following day so we could go IN places. Walked around some more. Then Volare for dinner. (Excellent. The place was packed at almost 10:00 and we still had great service.)

Saturday - it poured. And poured. And poured. Weather people said, "If you have plans, cancel them." We walked anyway. We walked for an hour to get to the Sears Tower, where we were told there was zero visibility. We went to the Art Institute and practically ran through it to have time to see other things. Caught the free trolley to the Field Museum where, again, we hurried through. Got done and had time left for one more activity. Left the museum campus to take a trolley to Navy Pier to do a shoreline tour on the boats. Was severely disappointed when nobody was there (after I called to make sure we could do it. I was mad. Very, very mad.) Defeated and feeling ripped off, we tried to find the Hershey's store to drown our disappointment with chocolate. That was another disappointment. I demanded that we go back to the hotel where our day picked up very well with the aforementioned pizza (from Gino’s East) and Iron Chef. Mike said we could go to Lincoln Park Zoo and Millennium Park Sunday morning before we left.

Sunday - It was still f%@!&* pouring outside so the outdoor activities were cancelled. We enjoyed our room until check out then caught a cab to the car rental place - the cabbie suggested finding alternate routes out of town as rain and flooding was causing some exits to close. Got to the car rental place to find a line OUT THE DOOR. Amtrak cancelled trains out - O'Hare was cancelling flights (No line bumps for people who reserved their car a week ahead, either). FINALLY got our car and then spent over an hour trying to get out of town. We were at the Illinois border around 5 when we realized we had not eaten or drank anything (besides the Starbucks my wonderful husband(!) went out in the rain to get while I waited in line earlier) ALL DAY. Finally found a Chili's. The rest of the night was spent driving home with Mike demonstrating his amazing skill of really getting lost. :)

So, it started out fun and ended up frustrating me a bit. But the frustrations and disappointments helped to remind me why we were there in the first place - that no matter what the situation, we were there together and we could be happy together even when things weren't going the way we had hoped. And we can still laugh with each other when we're soaking wet, aching tired and insanely frustrated. And in the end, we still had four kid-less, jobless and responsibility-less days to just enjoy each other's company. And that we did.

Oh, rain.

2008-09-16T21:34:00.003-06:00

Our last vacation, we left and the Wisconsin Dells flooded. It rained on my wedding day. It rained almost the ENTIRE time we were in Chicago and made for a rather ugly exit.

But it was okay. THIS hotel (unlike the last few hotels we've stayed at) had the Food Network.

Oh sweet Food Network. Oh sweet Iron Chef.

Couple that with some hearty, bacon-rich pizza

and I call that one hell of a honeymoon.

Behind the Scenes

2008-09-09T08:16:00.001-06:00

If it rains on your wedding day...

2008-09-08T09:15:00.004-06:00

It's supposed to mean good luck.

I think the rainbow we got (and the hopefully awesome pro shots along with it) could count as that.

I'm officially a Mrs!

And one of the family

2008-08-28T21:30:00.002-06:00

Props to my photographer allowing us to use some of our engagement pictures as family pictures. And props to my brother for keeping the kids [mostly] clean while they waited to jump in.

One of Us

2008-08-23T18:47:00.004-06:00

We did our engagement pictures a little late and I just got the disk in the mail today - two weeks out from the wedding. :) This is my favorite:

No Kidding

2008-08-20T14:29:00.000-06:00

Showering

2008-08-18T10:04:00.003-06:00

Miss Patti and me at my bridal shower over the weekend.

Mr. T

2008-08-13T08:24:00.002-06:00

My new nephew - Born June 27th

Individuality

2008-08-12T06:35:00.001-06:00

She has it.

publek nuditeh monkeh

2008-08-08T06:51:00.001-06:00

*Taken at the Minnesota Zoo*

Interest

2008-08-07T06:52:00.005-06:00

I officially have less than one month until my wedding.

Because I'm well aware that discussing my ever-present wedding dramz would get tiring (currently? getting the girls at the banquet hall to WRITE ME BACK. Or call - I'll even take a call!), I decided that the only way to liven up my little pink blog o'happiness before my *return to normal* was to post some pictures (at random, of course. How else?).

Feel free to comment still (I do love it so), but understand if I don't have time to answer any questions you may have, like, "Amy, why is there a picture of a monkey playing with himself here?" (srsly. I have one.)

Also - nothing like driving something deep into the ground, right? ;) My post Hunted was published on another collaborative blogging site. Check out Bloggers Annex if you get a chance - in addition to mine, there are other REALLY good posts there by some bloggers you may know. If you feel so inclined, you can also join and submit your posts for publication.

Answer You Anything! Part Two.

2008-06-18T10:08:00.002-06:00

What did I tell ya? I knew better than to declare a date that these would be done!

More questions from Ask Me Anything now answered!

Worker Mommy:

What scares you?
Excellent lead-in Worker Mommy! Aside losing people I love which at one point was a nearly debilitating fear for me – I am also scared of falling, thus I do not like being up high when there is even a remote possibility that I may not stay that high. Bugs also get the best of me. For the most part, I’ve been able to “man-up” and squish my own bugs since I’ve become a mommy. But some bugs I just can’t get over – like ticks. Of all bugs – ones that bury their heads in your skin to suck your blood are the worst. Says me. I have also had very traumatic incidents involving ticks. Okay, probably not traumatic sounding, but they definitely felt traumatic.

What is your most embarrassing moment at work?
Up until a couple weeks ago, I couldn’t think of an answer for this question. Time solves everything, doesn’t it?

So, my gal Patti and I went for our somewhat-weekly walk in the park on lunch. I came back and settled in to my desk when Mike called. I was leaning back in my chair talking on my cell when I felt a stray hair tickling me from inside my shirt. So I discreetly lifted my shirt to find said hair but instead found myself a tiny disgusting wood tick.

I shrieked. Loudly. A high-pitched undecipherable “TIIIIIICK! THERE’SATICKONMEEEEEEE!”
My boss (who now shares a thick fabric wall with me since the flood relocation) asked over the wall, “Amy…is everything alright?” Mike was still on the line asking “What’s going on?!” And I was standing with my shirt half up trying to take the tick off with the same hand that was holding my shirt up. I tried to calm down enough to tell both men that, yes, I was fine. Yes, I am slightly crazy. Yes, I’ll be okay. I let Mike go and went into the bathroom to remove all my clothes and shake them furiously in case Mr. Squished By A Highlighter had any travel companions.

But the really embarrassing part came a bit later. When I realized just how loudly I had screamed. In a large room with hundreds of people quietly working at their desks. Score one for my professionalism, eh?

What makes you roll on the floor laughing?
I have an odd sense of humor. I really appreciate a good "thinking" joke - especially ones that are more funny the next day because you get it more. But the things that get me rolling are simple jokes. Like, "Why does the gorilla have such big nostrils? Because he has big fingers!" Also? Funny animal pictures. LOLCATZ still rock my world.

What do you do when you get really angry?
It depends on why I’m angry and who I am angry AT. I can keep my cool for a while, but once I get to a certain point I am screaming so loud that I almost lose my voice. I have been known to spit when I yell like this. (Not pretty. Especially when my face is all red and I’m all up in the person’s grill.) If I cannot scream or hit something (heh, I’ll face it – or someone), I cry. I cry like a big fat baby. Like the strong emotions have to get out SOMEHOW. Luckily, I don't get that mad very often. :)

Becki:

What was your favorite Halloween costume as a child?
I’m pretty sure I was a “Princess” of some sort almost every year. I was not a very creative child.

Also, can I be a flowergirl?
Becki, I’d be down with this if there weren’t one tiny problem. See, the flower girl dress is a small version of my dress. If you matched the other flower girl, you’d be wearing the same dress as me. And I guess it is typically frowned upon to wear the same dress as a bride to a wedding. (Oh, The Knot teaches me so much!) You are welcome, however, to give me flowers whenever you please.

VirtualSprite:

I want to know more about when you donated your hair two years ago.
At the moment, I was completely horrified. But that was because the stylist was a moron and did everything I asked her not to do. Overall, it was really rewarding. I’m looking forward to doing it again at my normal salon next spring. (Email me if you want pictures.)

Kristina:

Who would win in a fight between a human ninja and a monkey ninja and why?
This is a really tough call. Monkeys are very quick and agile creatures. Train one to be a ninja and they are quite certainly going to be lethal. But I’m going to have to say the human ninja would win because even if the monkey was really badass, the human ninja would probably have a gun, too. I don’t think ninja monkeys carry guns.

Have you bought any clothing items in the past two weeks?
Another question that benefited from my tardiness. Last night I bought a cute dress at Terrgit for seven dollars. And it’s not black! (I don’t know why I felt the need to stock up on black dresses/skirts at the beginning of summer). I’ve also been buying the eco-tees that Wal-Mart has been clearancing out. Organic sustainability + Cheap = So mine.

Would you rather have no elbows or have no knees?
This took a lot of thought. I think I’d rather have no elbows. Because if I couldn’t walk, I may as well just wear a shirt that says, “I can’t believe it’s not butter.” But I would no longer be able to drink wine with you unless you helped me out a little.

If you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Morning View from Incubus. It’s been like six years since I got that album and it’s still one of my favorites.

What do these stand for (best guess):

BHIMBGO – Beat Him If My Bacon Gets Overcooked
WAFB – Women Are Fecking Beautiful
SITD – Sometimes I Think Dirty
ANFSCD – Amy Never Forgets Some Crazy Dreams

Family Vacation

2008-06-10T21:06:00.006-06:00

We took the kids to the Wisconsin Dells last week. It was my first time there (even though I grew up in Wisconsin) and now I'm really grateful I went when I did! I know a lot of us have had a lot of rain lately -Lake Delton flooded and reconstructed (and emptied) itself.

Anyway - on to the pictures!

We took the long way there and stopped for a tour at Niagara Cave before visiting with the grandparents for a night.

Once in the Dells, we rode horses at Canyon Creek Stables.

The stables had a cool petting zoo with a llama/alpaca (I can never tell the difference) who hissed a lot.

And a baby goat that loved Alyssa almost as much as she loved it.

We took a ride on the Original Wisconsin Ducks.

And played some mini-golf at Pirate's Cove.

We had a yummy lumberjack breakfast at Paul Bunyan's Cook Shanty.

And toured the Ripley's Believe It or Not! museum.

Our KidCabin Suite at the Great Wolf Lodge was totally worth the money.

Their waterpark was fun, too! The family (mostly Mike) ran to get dumped on by The Giant Bucket every five minutes.

By our second night, the rain had started in so the camera started getting left in the car. Our Lower Dells tour excursion into Witches Gulch was the last time it made it out for a while.

Honeymooning

2008-06-10T13:36:00.002-06:00

So it seems that beautiful sandy beaches and vast oceans are not in my near future. Ideally, that would have been what my honeymoon was like. However, even when we thought we might kinda sorta be able to maybe afford such a trip, we realized our prime honeymoon time was also prime hurricane time. No thank you to that.

We then decided that we would cozy up in a nicer-than-usual hotel in Duluth for a long weekend. Until a horde of in-line skating enthusiasts trampled my second-rate-dream honeymoon by stealing all the hotel rooms. (B&B’s are adorable, they are…I just can’t bring myself to stay in one.)

So we were left with about five days to go pretty much wherever we wanted. We wanted a place we’ve never been to but didn’t have to travel a long way to get to. We came up with…Chicago.

This is where you come in, my friends. I need advice. I need places to eat (fun, but not too fancy), places to stay (nice, but not “independently wealthy” nice), things to go see and do. Even a pointer to which area I should stay would help me narrow my search a bit.
I went nuts and almost cancelled our last vacation – which was only to Wisconsin Dells – because I had to figure it all out on my own with no help or input. I don’t want to risk that again.

Empty Handed.

2008-05-26T13:12:00.001-06:00

Sometimes writing is my therapy. It helps me get out all my feelings – good and bad. And usually, I’m proud of the feelings I’ve put onto the paper. I’m proud of the way they poured out of me and I’m proud to share them.

But lately, I get something written and even though I feel good to have gotten it out – I don’t feel good about what’s on the paper. I’m not proud of the emotions. I’m not proud of the points I’ve made. I don’t feel like I’d be proud to have my friends share in it with me.

So there I sit: An empty-handed blogger. With nothing of substance to share.

I have a feeling this has more to do with my perspective than my writing skills.

I’m working on my perspective, I promise.

And if you’re missing me, you can bet I’m missing you, too!

Answer You Anything! Part One.

2008-04-16T12:45:00.005-06:00

I have to break this little party up into separate posts. I had no idea you (Worker Mommy) would have so many questions for me! You (Worker Mommy) must really miss me. ;)

Questions from Worker Mommy:

Ok...what's your favorite childhood memory?
I’d have to say that it would be collective memories of being on my grandparents’ houseboat on the river. Almost all my great memories are there.

Have you ever been in a fist fight?
……Yes. A few actually. What can I say? I have a big mouth. Sometimes you have to be able to back it up. Haha – the worst fight (with the most punching) I’ve ever been in was with Mike’s older sister, actually (completely unprovoked – I swear!). But the one I was most injured in was when I was fighting with my ex-boyfriend and we ended up at the bar. I spent the night [underage] drinking and the fight escalated. The night ended with me trying to hit him, him ducking into a car and a large Amazonian woman stepping up in his place. Since I was, after all, ten feet tall and bullet proof, I tried to take a swing, but my *dear friend* Eric stepped in and grabbed my arms. So I kicked her. And she punched me in the eye. I kid you not – I STILL see that black eye some days.

What drives you nuts about people?
Arrogance. I’m all for self-empowerment and self-confidence, but there is a line. And one you cross it, you’re pretty much just a d-bag and no longer exist to me. There is actually one person on our guest list that we’re debating over because I don’t want him at our wedding due to his flagrantly arrogant attitude. (That’s my argument line.) (If you watch Hell’s Kitchen – he is a LOT like “Jason” who was fired last night.)

Questions from Kelly (who is rocking some new digs!):

ummmmmm...you're 26? OK That's my first question.
Not yet, actually. I will be on May 6th.

And...where you been?
Well, I went to LaCrosse a couple weeks ago.

And...What's up with the wedding stuff?
Easy: Vendor prices.

And...where you been?
Ooh, I went to IKEA finally, too! (Not as great as I had hoped.)

Questions from Momma’s World:

What are your plans for the summer?
Since my “dear sweet *BFF*” called me on Easter to tell me to find new daycare, our summer plans are a bit up in the air right now. We’ve been busy converting my office into an extra bedroom (leaving one of the three computers/desks in there and moving the other two into my bedroom) so that my teenage brother and sister can take turns staying with us and helping with the kids during the day. (At home, they aren’t allowed outside when they are home alone because my mom fears that they will drown in the lake or be eaten by bears and coyotes. They will freaking LOVE this, trust me.) That leaves a week at the end of the school year that my kids are out and my siblings aren’t yet, so we’re thinking of taking a trip with the kids during that time. Not sure where yet, just somewhere in driving distance. Good recommendations, anyone?

Have you made any decisions on your lists of to do for the Wedding?
Yep! Let’s see if I can remember everything I’ve booked: Church, Hall, Photographer, Florist and Baker. I still have a lot to do – my next thing will be starting my playlists, which I’m actually looking forward to doing. I have some DIY stuff in the works, but I’ll post about that another time.

Has the Man made any requests/demands about anything he wants at the wedding?
No pink. And a top hat. And also that we spend the extra hundred something dollars to get Buttercream cake.

(I'll be back with the rest. I am not going to go promising dates because we all see how great I am at that.)

Ask Me Anything

2008-04-05T16:03:00.004-06:00

This is a popular little game on the message boards I've been haunting lately. Trust me, it's a thousand times more interesting than the bulleted list of "What's been going on with me lately" that has taken me almost FIVE WEEKS to write.

So, go ahead. Ask me anything. I'll answer all questions next week.

I'm sittin on mah bed...Postin' on mah blawg.

2008-02-22T22:09:00.003-06:00

Finally got myself a laptop.

Finally got caught up on reading blogs.

Finally posted about March for Babies.

Finally posted on the family blizog.

Feels good to be back.

(And bloggin' in bed)

Marching On

2008-02-22T11:46:00.004-06:00

The March of Dimes has done away with WalkAmerica!!!!

Well, that was a bit dramatic. They actually just changed the name. It is now March for Babies.

I love the new name. I think it's very To-The-Point and goes well with March of Dimes.

I always wondered why the March of Dimes got to have the "WalkAmerica" when there are so many other walks IN America. I found out that it was because the March of Dimes pretty much invented the Charity Walk. That makes a lot more sense, then. This move was smart for them, but it helps me out, too. Now I won’t have to explain what the walk is for all the time. (That got just a little bit old.)

April 27th, Team Bella will be “marching” for their third year. So far in our walks, we’ve raised over $1,200 that went to help save babies. This year, I’m setting our goal a little bit higher. I’m going to muster up a little bit of courage and be just a little more outgoing when asking for donations. This year, I’m not going to wait until the day before “bank day” to put the change jar in the office kitchen just because a little red tape is in my way. I’m also going to talk about it a LOT more. Because it is something I feel very strongly about.

There are a lot of choices that we will make for our children. Unfortunately, we really don’t get to choose the way they are born. I am proof that a perfectly normal pregnancy can last almost to the end…but can’t guarantee a healthy baby. I don’t want more women to go through what I have. I believe in this charity and I hold their hope that one day ALL babies will be given the opportunity to start life healthy.

So it’s time again to ask that if you can spare a dollar, would you consider donating it to my cause? If you can spare a day, would you consider joining the walk in your own area? If you can just spare a minute or so, will you tell someone about the cause?

Contributions of all kinds help out in big ways.

Staci

2008-02-19T11:23:00.003-06:00

Something about that Sunday was odd. Our grocery shopping was completely done. The house was picked up. It was still early in the afternoon and we were bored. Never has there been such a quiet Sunday in this house. We're usually scrambling to get things done before the long week is upon us once again.

But this Sunday was different. We opened our new Game of Life and sat to play it. We talked Daddy into playing with us instead of playing his game on the computer. Everything seemed so oddly peaceful.

But then we got the call. A hysterical sister telling us we needed to get over to Mike’s step-dad’s house. Mike’s sister Staci was in an accident. That’s all she knew.

Staci was just at our house the night before. She ran an errand for us and stayed for a family dinner. She stayed kind of late. We had a chance to talk about so much. About how hot their work (she had just started working with Mike’s company) was going to be soon. About how she was going to get her GED. About how hard it was to keep her house clean with her new puppy (She worked so hard to learn to be a good homemaker when they moved in to this house – something I never thought she would do). We talked about the wedding and how we wanted her to take a part in it.

When we go the call, we panicked. I called my mom and asked her to come get the kids. We ran through the house and tried to pack a bag for something unknown. Cell phone chargers, magazines, HOW LONG WILL WE BE THERE??? Snacks, tissues, overnight clothes for the kids…just in case. I stopped randomly to pray.

Before my mom got there, Christy called again. Staci was killed. She crossed the median and was hit by a truck. She was dead. She was only 22.

We spent the night trying to find answers. Trying to find comfort. Trying to find some saving grace in the tragedy that had found our family again.

The last week has been somewhat of a blur. I’ve tried to write several times, but felt like it was a bid for sympathy. I wanted to memorialize her but didn’t want the attention.

Not that I could put the right words together, anyway.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her. I’m still not. So many times this week, I’ve thought, “I should call Stac…” “I wonder when Staci will be...” “I bet Staci would like to...” And I am forced to remember that she won’t be here ever again.

Slowly, our days are growing to be “normal” again. There is less crying and more laughter in each day. But there will always be an empty place in my heart for the girl that I called “sis” long before I knew I’d be marrying her brother. There will always be a ready tear when I think about the wonderful person we lost. The beautiful girl who spread so much love in this world.

Your eyes are filled with love.
They glow with life.
They shine with laughter.

Your smile tells me everything is wonderful.
That your life is what you want it to be.
That you want to share your joy with everyone around you.

I look at these pictures
And forget that you're gone.

Weddingy Goodness

2008-02-08T15:03:00.000-06:00

You know you're a neglectful blogger when people begin to email you questions that you normally would have answered months ago without prodding.

I'm not trying to keep my wedding stuff a secret at all. But it really is the reason I haven't been blogging. Not that I'm actually here working or something!

But even when I DO want to post about it, I'm reminded of a card from someecards - "Your wedding sounds so interesting to you." People say that to me with their eyes quite often.

HOWEVER! Seeing how I have gotten more than a couple emails asking me about my plans, I have decided that you will hear about it whether it is interesting to you or NOT. So pffflt if it isn't. (Or YAY if it is!)

First - Things I have decided on (Pictures hiding in the links).

My theme - Black and White and lots of pearls.

Why Pearls? It started with The Dress. The dress has pearls beaded throughout, as does the veil. We decided that my bridesmaids would wear a strand of pearls to match my dress and it just spilled over into everything from there. But really, the theme all comes down to classics.

You might notice that Alyssa's dress is a tiny wittle replica of mine (the straps were too loose on mine and had fallen back in this picture). I did NOT do this on purpose (I've heard some "bridezilla" remarks about trying to dress them like your clone). I actually had a very frilly white dress with black embroidery picked out, but she saw this one and realized it was like mine and had to have it. I'm not complaining. I'm also not cloning. So Haters can just eff off. I think it's adorable.

The bridesmaid dresses, I think anyway, are my #1 proof that I am nothing close to the reptilious (like my new word?) beast they love to compare brides to. Kristina can vouch for me – I said, “You need a black dress.” She found one she liked and that’s the one they got. However, the only picture I have of them in the dresses, it looks like we hate my lovely sister-in-law or something - or she hates us – so instead, I’ll link to a picture of Katherine Heigl’s sister’s wedding. Where Miss Katherine wore the same one.

Ceremony - We will be having it at the UCC church like I planned. I asked my 'grandpa' if he was willing to officiate and he gladly accepted. I'm really excited to have it here now. We went to church last Sunday and I felt like it was just the right place for it to be.

Reception - We chose a golf course near the church. It's actually very pretty as compared to the other one we looked at. Their shining moment was when the coordinator offered me the smaller banquet room since my guests would fit. This room not only has a fireplace in it, but the deposit was also $400 less and the minimum was $4000 less. I'll TAKE IT. We have yet to attend a tasting and select our menus, but I hear the food is at least all right. :D

Photographer - I actually only met with one photographer. But I did do a lot of online research. I figured if I didn't like their "show" folders - or couldn't afford them - why bother meeting them? I'm a busy lady! But the photographer we decided to use is close to the location, is very nice and has an eye for a great picture (which I based off the pictures on her walls as well as her portfolio). And did I mention she has great prices??

Flowers - I haven't chosen my florist yet (but may just go with the one I met if the other one doesn't get back to me soon), but I have officially decided that my bouquet will be white roses with pearl-adorned stephanotis wrapped in black satin with pearl straight pins. Bridesmaids' bouquets will be white hydrangeas and stephanotis. (Kind of like these). The flowers were really funny to me because up until an hour before I met the first florist, I had absolutely NO idea what I wanted and after searching through hundreds of examples, I was able to settle on these easily.

Things Coming Up To Do:

Cake - I don't know where we're getting the cake done yet, but I do know what style I want (something sorta like this) and the flavor will be easy for me to choose. I'm pretty excited to go eat cake, though. Probably next month.

Paper - I am LOVING some of the DIY Invitations I'm seeing so some other engaged friends and I are going to check out the paper place soon to see if this is feasible.

Centerpieces - Going with candles...I have a lot of deal-shopping to do for this job before I know exactly what it will look like, though.

And that, my lovelies, is as much Tulle-related information that I will force down your throats for one day.

(To those that asked...thank you! Not many people let me talk about it!)

Overheard:

2008-02-01T14:53:00.000-06:00

Boss: "I can hear you over there talking to yourself, Tim."

Tim: "I like to talk to smart people."

BWAHAHAHA.

(That's all I've got guys. Hi! Miss you!)

Quitter

2008-01-24T14:25:00.000-06:00

Do you ever have moments where you think, "I just can't do this any more. Fuck it. Fuck it all. I'm done."??

And then you get better and feel bad for wasting all that time swearing and being down?

But most importantly, does it make you a quitter to quit quitting, or were you already a quitter to begin with?

Hair Pricks

2008-01-22T14:24:00.000-06:00

I got my hair cut...finally. It has been since I donated it in the Spring of '06. (Luckily, my hair stylist can't add well and only scolded me for waiting a year.)

I had to cut off quite a bit in order for it to be really healthy again. At least four inches.

I was ecstatic that my hair was finally healthy again. It finally looks GOOD again. I can finally STYLE it again.

Not one damn person noticed.

No one at my mom's house Sunday night.

NOBODY at work over the past two days.

Not my daycare girl.

Not even my kids.

JERKS.

I have no camera for "after" pics - or any "Before" pics for that matter. But you can tell me it looks nice anyway - just to make me feel better.

Prayers

2008-01-22T05:54:00.000-06:00

I hope you can all find the time today to say a little prayer for WhyMommy. (Find my post about her here.)

She's going in for a double masectomy today.

Just the next step in kicking this cancer's ass.

We're thinking of you, WhyMommy! Show 'em how it's done!!!

(Thanks for the heads up, Judy and Amy!)

I'm Coming Out.

2008-01-15T13:14:00.000-06:00

My secret identity has been compromised.

I leaked sensitive information about my family two posts ago.

Sure, Worker Mommy pointed it out and I got it fixed up. But I have no way of knowing who saw the information before that.

I had to make a choice. I could track the IP addresses of anyone who visited my blog from the first publishing time to the second and blackmail them to keep quiet (or, you know, just kill them). OR! I could just not do anything. Or I could come clean.

I have decided...The jig is up.

To tell you the truth, I was getting a little sick of the Blog Names, anyway. I had reasons for each one of them - the main being to protect my family from any weirdos that might want to come steal my babies in the middle of the night. But the more I think about it, the more I convince myself - they're never going to find them solely because they know our names. Because, really, we all have extremely common names. Not like my mom or sister - whose names will never be mentioned on here.

Without further ado, I give you the Butrfly Family Breakdown:

The Man = Mike
Sunshine = Alyssa
Ninja Boy = Nicholas
Butrfly = Amy (Me) (Oh, wait, you knew that one.)*

From here on out, we give up our Uber-Secret Identities and will stick with not letting our last names out.

So. There you go. Merry Late Christmas. I got you Information! Hope it fits.

*(Or did you? How would you feel if I told you that was NOT my real name??)

I'm Locking Her Up.

2008-01-11T05:24:00.000-06:00

The first time, it was cute.

But if I see one more love letter come home from school, I'm locking the girl up and not letting her out until she's thirty five.

CPS be damned! My baby is being courted in first grade!!

BY MORE THAN ONE BOY!

Daddy's on the verge of a breakdown himself. I just hope Shane and Austin know to stay far away from this house.

Rambling, Ranting and Making Excuses

2008-01-09T10:27:00.000-06:00

Or…the origin of my SR.

When I replied to my Brilly-Poo’s (;p) comment yesterday, instead of quick email back, I ended up with a whole blog post.

Brill said that she used to be very outgoing but now she’s more of a homebody.

And guess what…I used to be that way, too! I used to HATE sitting at home. I worked retail and LOVED my job. My favorite part (besides the free or very cheap shoes) was interacting with people all day long.

As I moved from my “Party Girl/Single Girl/Hot Shoe Store Girl” persona to the “Mom/Office Worker/Wife” persona I’ve taken on, my need for that interaction faded. But it wasn’t until Bella that I began to dread meeting people so much that it actually prevented me from leaving the house.

Because any time I have a conversation with someone new, the subject of kids comes up. “Do you guys have any kids?” I usually explain that The Man has two kids who live with us. I used to "avoid" this situation by saying "we" have two kids. Then I wouldn’t have to explain the custody thing. But then, the subject can turn to, "So the kids with Grandma?" I could LIE (most of the time, sometimes they are with Grandma), or tell them that they are at their mom's. [Weird look] Then explain that they are The Man's kids and not “mine.”

Inevitably, the conversation always turns to me. Or, more accurately, my baby-making. It's either, "So do YOU have any kids?" or "Are you guys ever going to have kids together?"

And in that absolutely inevitable moment, I have to make the choice: Do I lie or tell them the truth? If I tell them the truth, the conversation - and the 'relationship' - go sour. Always. It goes a little something like this (these are actual things people have really said to me!):

"So do YOU have any kids?"
"Um. Yeah. We had a baby girl in 2005 who was stillborn."

The Idiot:
"Oh. Huh. Well...you'll have more."

The Prodder:
What happened? Are you going to try again? Why NOT? Oh, don’t worry about that! Being a mother is the greatest thing you can experience! Giving birth, that’s the most beautiful moment of a woman’s life. [Me: I HAVE given birth!] That’s not the same! It’s not the same, you see, that baby did not live. It’s just not the same. [Note: Conversation aborted, Prodder’s life depended on it.]

The Suicide Promoter
Oh, my God! Seriously? That must be TERRIBLE! How do you go ON? Oh, I just don't know how I would live if one of my kids died! No, really! I would just KILL myself! Oh. My. God!

The Weired Out Person:
"Oh, really? That's really...bad." [silence]

Those are the basic reactions. Somehow, the conversation always turns to this and ends with someone (or both) feeling uncomfortable. Or sometimes they really upset me and sometimes no matter how hard I try I can’t hide my newfound hatred for them and their giant thoughtless mouths.

But as painful as it is to drudge it up every time I meet someone, it’s a thousand times more painful not to. Because as easy as a “No.” would be to throw out, in my mind and in my heart saying that is denying Her. It’s lying about almost a whole year of my life. Pretending that a child never existed. A child that grew from a microscopic seed into a six pound baby girl in my womb. Who I spent twenty minutes pushing to see. Who I held on to as long as I possibly could. Who I’ve cried over for two and a half years.

As easy as it would be, I just can’t do it. Rather, I choose to stay home – away from new people who want to know how my ovaries are working.

But, like I said in the last post, I’m working on it. I’m trying new things with my “Conversating Skillz.”

Saturday night while we were out, an old friend whom I haven’t seen in years, asked The Question: “So do you have any kids?” I smiled and said, “The Man has two kids who live with us.” And she smiled and ended the conversation. So, thank you, J, for knowing your personal conversational limits. Thank you for not needing a status on my uterus. Thank you for letting me enjoy my evening and thus, allowing yourself to enjoy yours.

Click HERE for a Public Service Announcement (aka “a rant”) from The Butrfly Garden (well placed in the Complain Room).

Overcoming SR

2008-01-07T16:18:00.000-06:00

Some of you may remember that I am inflicted with SR.

Social Retardation can come in many forms. Common symptoms include: inability to RSVP, fear of the telephone, diarrhea of the mouth or sudden loss of speech, telling horrible jokes, other speech impediments, fear of crowds and much, much more.

Mine is not the most severe, but it does cause problems in my daily life. I don't hang out with friends very often - sometimes I even wonder if I really have friends (you know, "I.R.L."). When I DO actually push myself to set up 'dates,' it takes every ounce of my being to make me follow through. Or sometimes I just cancel at the last minute. If my phone rings and we don't know who's calling, there is often a quick Paper, Rock, Scissor game between The Man and I to see who has to answer it. If someone comes to our door, (after our initial shock wears off) we downright argue about who has to answer it and then chant on our way to the door, "Be for the kids, be for the kids, be for the kids..."

It's not that I don't like people. I just don't like interacting with them. And about half the time I do push myself to "interact," I'm reminded of why I don't. The other half of the time, I go home with a smile on my face. Not only because I had a good time, but because I'm proud that I pushed myself to do something that scares me and it turned out well.

This weekend can all be chalked up in the Good Half. Since The Man had to work Saturday morning, we spent Friday night at home eating pizza and wishing we were Jason Bourne. Saturday, I played Grinch and walked through my house tearing down my Christmas decorations. Sunshine was at a party down the street from us so after the party, she came home for a bit before we dropped her off at her mom's again. Then we headed to my old stompin' ground, where we went out for dinner and then met friends.....AT A BAR. And even though The Man felt out of place, we hung out there for over an hour. Add an impromptu visit at another friends' house and I have THREE HOURS to check off on my "GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!" list.

Sunday, Kristina and I battled CROWDS (another SR trigger) - Crowds of BRIDES (something anyone should be scared of) - to visit vendors at a wedding fair.

So despite the fact that I'm really tired today (when your idea of a night out is going to Chili's for dinner, actually going out really wears you down!), I'm proud of myself for getting out there "making" myself have a good time. Because I needed it more than I knew.

Social Retardation: [roughly] 700

Amy: 1

(Hmm, well, it's a start.)

Adept

2008-01-04T08:13:00.000-06:00

I don't really care much for most of the guards at work. They seem either too crabby or too self-important or both. But there is one older man, Leo, whom I've always liked. He's friendly and has a wealth of stories. He took this job in retirement to give him something to do after working at the brewery most his life. We usually exchange pleasantries as I head out the door three nights a week.

As I was leaving last night, I couldn't shake the feeling like I was forgetting something.

Did I leave my cell phone on my desk? No, I had that. I went over my mental checklist and couldn't find anything missing.

I passed the guards' desk and turned to say good night to Leo.

"You look like you've forgotten something!" He warned.

"I feel like I forgot something!! How did you know that?!" I replied.

"You just have that look on your face like. Bill, in there, he always has that look because he forgets his cell phone. Do you have yours?"

"That's what I thought I was missing, but I grabbed it!" I was astonished.

"Well, you just make sure you didn't forget anything and have a great night!" Leo said with a wave.

I waved back and told him to have a great night, too.

Either he can read minds, or he's really good at his job.

A Thought...

2007-12-31T12:59:00.000-06:00

A Thought to start out the new year:

Why don't "empty" calories weigh less?

(No scientific answers, please. We no likey science here.)

Have a SAFE and FUN night!!

Reinventing the Wheel

2007-12-28T13:16:00.000-06:00

Trying to make your 2008 Resolutions?

You could use the old stand-bys of "Lose weight, make more money" and the like. Or...you could resolve to make changes where they'll really matter to you.

One of my favorite People Who Don't Know I Exist, Kimberly Wilson of Hip Tranquil Chick fame, had this as a suggestion in her book, Hip Tranquil Chick. It's easy and eye-opening all at once.

Take this life wheel (or draw your own) and color in each section in relation to how satisfied you are with each element. For example, if you are partially satisfied with your career, partially fill up the section labeled "career." (I told you it was easy!)

Do it right now. I'll wait.

Mine looked like this:

I'm pretty well satisfied with my home life. There's always room for improvement in any situation, but as a whole, I am happy. Same goes for relationships, though I know I need more close relationships in my life.

My health, finances, creativity and spirituality all fall at about 50%. I haven't been eating very well or getting any exercise but I'm pretty healthy besides that. My finances need some work. And though an easy answer would be "MORE MONEY!" I know that if I really worked hard at it, I could arrange my finances better - but again, I'm not poor or even really hurting badly for money. My creativity. Hmm...has anyone else noticed a little dry spell around here lately? Though I love to blame lack of time for not posting, a lot of it was that I didn't have any of those "OMG! I have to write about this!" moments - the kind of moments that drive me to be creative despite my lacking time. And finally, Spirituality; I've talked about this before. I struggle with finding a place to call 'my own' that shares my ideals. No big surprise there.

Now those little measly green ones: Career and Self-Care. Obviously the areas that need the most improvement, they actually fell a spot from when I did the wheel the first time. I can't give them a zero, because my job is somewhat fulfilling. It's fulfilling my bank account, anyhow, and that's more than a lot of people have. And I do small things to make myself happy. Though this mostly includes eating cookies and that drags down Health.

Step two is to think of a few things you could do to improve your most low-rated areas. I'll be honest, this is not as easy as coloring. But it is the important part. They have to be things you can do RIGHT NOW. Unlike my rationalization that "Once I lose weight...then I can buy a nice dress...THEN I can start going to church." (I know! My way of thinking surprises even me sometimes.)

So, starting with those little green guys, here are my steps:
SELF CARE -
1. Get a hair cut. I've longed for a nice cut for over a year. I finally got a gift card (I guess that makes it only partially "Self" Care) to my favorite salon, so this will be easily accomplished. I know it will give me a better attitude when it comes to getting myself ready every day.
2. Practice Yoga more frequently. I'm always saying I'm going to do this and don't. But it always gets put off because I ENJOY IT and things enjoyed are always pushed behind things that are NOT enjoyed. The Rule Of Mommies, no?

Completing these steps would put SELF CARE at least to 50%.

CAREER -
1. Keep resume polished and keep looking for jobs - I've applied a couple places, but haven't put forth a full effort. Part of me is very scared to leave this job - I've taken it on as a large part of my identity. But the other part of me is scared to stay and just be "used to" being unhappy with my days.
2. Keep a happier attitude at work - Change your mind and change the world, right? You are only as unhappy as you tell yourself you are. Since I told myself this a few weeks back, I've made a big effort to deflect people's bad attitudes instead of absorbing them. It's working pretty well. And for the time being, it makes this job a whole heck of a lot better.

I can't guess how happy I'll be if and when I leave this job. The main part is going to be keeping up with #2 - despite my employer.

HEALTH -
1. Eat healthier
2. Exercise more (Big DUH's, eh?)

FINANCES -
1. Plan grocery list better so I'm not spending so much unnecessary money (geez, I can't believe the place I blow all my money is the GROCERY STORE! Blech! What kind of woman am I!?!?)
2. Pay bills on time. Avoid fees. Keep happy creditors. Win-Win.

CREATIVITY -
1. Carry a notepad again so I can write down ideas when they strike
2. Follow through with crafty ideas. (In other words, instead of saving all that fabric, actually MAKE SOMETHING. Oooh. Bright Idea!)

SPIRITUALITY -
1. Attend service at a church. Just one. To see how it goes. If it doesn't work out...
2. Attend service at another church.

Looks like Mid-February or so, I should have one magenta-filled Life Wheel! Or, maybe a tad longer.

I'm really anxious to find out what ratings your Life Wheel got. And...what you plan to do to raise them up.

On Abusing Generosity

2007-11-28T19:31:00.000-06:00

Due to the ever increasing workload lately, we’ve taken on some new employees.
The D’s each got a “new girl” to help with their work and I’ve been training in a rather gloomy, but pretty smart young guy on CAD.

I’ve enjoyed getting to know the new girls. They really liven the plastic-lined (remember the flood?) place up. But today I came to a point where I don’t want to get to know one of them anymore.

See, both the new girls (I call them “girls” but they are both older than me) are African American. They are both from the city. They are both single mothers in college. However, one likes to talk about the books she reads while the other talks about the bootleg DVD’s she watched the night before (and she “got any one” I want. Only $5.). One talks about how she spoils her kid with love and attention and is glad that’s enough because Christmas is going to be tight this year. The other…well…that’s why I don’t want to know any more about her.

She likes to announce things to a quiet room. We’ll be silent, working, and she’ll blurt something out. This doesn’t really bother me much. But today she said, “I need to get me some Toys For Tots or something.” I looked at her. “I broke, man. Bah-Roke. I need to get my babay some toys.”

I went by her to talk to her about it. “The Salvation Army runs a program with Lite FM called ‘Operation Joy,’ I told her, “I bet they could help you.”

“Operation Joy. Yeah. I got their number and I called, but I didn’t get no answer.”

“Well, I volunteered in their offices last year and they have lots of people answering the phones all day, you should try again in a little bit. Otherwise, I know most counties hold some kind of program.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that.” she said.

Twenty minutes later, she blurted out, “You know on this ‘Cyber Monday;’ they estimate there was [a mass amount of money] spent!?!?”

“Wow.” I replied, mostly uninterested. Internet facts are her favorite thing to blurt out and I’m a tad bit irritated that she spends so much time on the internet while mine has been set “off limits.”

“Yeah, I got me a laptop for $250!” She said.

I stared. “Really? Where’d you find a deal like that?”

“Overstock.com!”

“Wow.” I said again, trying to contain my anger.

Here she is, spending her WORKING time on the internet and finding good-hearted people to buy her kid Christmas presents because she’s “Bah-Roke” after buying herself a fucking computer. I wonder how many of those “good-hearted citizens” got THEMSELVES a laptop on “Cyber Monday.”

I can tell you what. Not THIS one.

Now is NOT the time for me to meet people who can successfully destroy all faith I have in man kind. I do NOT need to be thinking when I take that afternoon off to do data entry for Operation Joy, “Gee, I wonder what they blew all THEIR money on that need to use this service.” I just DON’T.

So my solution is to not get to know her anymore. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. But I have to. Because I just can’t know people who become stereotypical leaches on society. Other girl, however, I plan to get to know a LOT better. Because I could really use some empowered people in my life right now. Someone who will make me believe that there really are good people out there doing what they can and not asking for handouts. Someone who isn’t afraid to go without frivolity so she can plan a better life for herself. Someone who won’t make me feel like a fucking fool for giving up MY hard-earned vacation time to spend on programs on Operation Joy - or any other charity.

1 Year Old

2007-11-21T09:39:00.000-06:00

It's my first birthday all over again!

Except this time it's the Garden's birthday.

And I get to blow the candles out all by myself.

Honestly, I can't believe I've stuck with it this long.

If I hadn't made friends like you all, I probably wouldn't have.

So THANK YOU for being a friend. In a totally Golden Girls sorta way.

Here's to another year of bitching, soap box ranting, and random edjumacating.

And many mooooooooore.

This is probably why she claws my couch

2007-11-19T09:04:00.000-06:00

Alternate title: I need to find better things to do with my time off work.

A Simple Request

2007-11-18T20:41:00.001-06:00

Excuse me, Mr. Grosspants.

Mr. Grosspants of Aurora, Ontario, Canadia.

Mr. Grosspants with an IP Address of 24.137.212.137.

Mr. Grosspants, who uses Aurora Cable Internet for their provider.

I just wanted to tell you: Please stop coming here.

It's obvious that you have some problems. Not only because of your search term (circled in red because I don't want MORE searches for it landing people here), but because of the fact that you are repeatedly coming back after having found me by searching for that term, when you should have been sadly and disgustingly disappointed.

You are creeping me out. You are making me scared for my kids. You are making me regret hosting a fun, informative and SUPPOSED-TO-BE innocent little blogging event. You are making me want to close this blog.

Again, not only because you are looking for that particular sort of thing, but because

YOU KEEP COMING BACK.

So please. Just stop. Don't come back. At all. I will know if you do. And I will be pissed. And when I get pissed, I get vengeful. So just don't. Go about your sick little life somewhere else.

That is all.

Search Me.

2007-11-07T08:26:00.000-06:00

When time is tight, it's best to enlist help. The help of my READERS (or rather, random searchers that landed here expecting...something very different, I'm sure).

Brought to you via Statcounter, by request of Melissavina (it’s more than a one-liner, but generally the same idea, right?) and completely idea-pilfered from Cherann, The Effed Up Ways People Come Across My Blog:

"insane ways of torture" (Work for my company!)

"beautiful redneck wedding" (Trying to include tulle AND Nascar?)

"sexy gyno stories" "gyno fetish stories" "gyno play" "horror gyno pics" (The list goes on, I knew talking about my girly parts would bring in a bad crowd!)

"milf garden" (This is a new take on an old search, do they just grow right out of the ground now?)

"women who have three boobies" (Really? I've decided this searcher was about eight years old.)

"should pastors marry non-christians" (Sure...why not?)

And...my favorite:

"chocolate syrup bad for vagina?" (I'm no expert, but I would guess it is.)

Break

2007-11-01T09:02:00.000-06:00

We had a water main bust at work, flooding out half of the offices. We are all working in stations set up in meeting rooms and the auditorium. Then on top of that, my boss just mandated 50 hours a week. I’m now seriously searching for a new job.

I need a break, guys. When it comes down to putting something on hold, I never wanted it to be my blogging. This keeps me sane. It makes me feel like I’m not alone. Like I have FRIENDS or something.

But in reality, my job and my family have to come first. Even though this job has gone from kinda crappy to almost unbearable (okay, not in terms of “well, they dig in mines all day” but in terms of “This is not the job I took four years ago”). But it is still what puts food in my family’s mouths and pays the mortgage. Until I find something that allows me just a little personal time, I have to give up the personal time I took here and just do the work. I have to do my best for the big faceless corporation. And family…well, I know you all get that. With an extra ten waking hours out of the house, my time with them is already limited enough.

This isn’t “Good-Bye,” just “See ya later.” I might find time to post here and there, but in case I don’t, I wanted to let you know that YES! I AM okay. I miss you all (you know I’m a whore for the comments – and by that I mean your comments keep me company and keep a smile on my face!) and I will try to stay caught up on your blogs.

I have the whole week of Thanksgiving off and I’m going to use that as my little beacon of hope to get me through it all.

I will also try to post some pictures from Halloween tonight.

So until next time…

On My Own

2007-10-26T09:34:00.000-06:00

The song "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake is probably as cheezy of a song as you could pick for a "Life Soundrack." But if I were to sit down and figure out a soundtrack to my life, that song would pop up several times.

Every time I made a change in my life, I'd get in my car and turn on the radio and Whitesnake would be playing, "I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time. So here I go again."

It seemed so routine. I felt like it was a sign from God to keep me strong. I know, "Sign from God? On the radio? Take it easy, crazy lady!" That's not the point.

I had it down. I knew when my time somewhere was up. When the tension builds between you and the friend you're staying with or you find a piece of paper in your boyfriend's wallet that says Hot Blond - 612-555-9008, you pretty much know you need to be moving on. I could have everything I owned - anywhere I was staying - in my trunk in under twenty minutes. Then I'd hop in to take off and that song would play. And for some reason, it always made me feel better, like everything was going to be okay. Whether I'd left a cheating boyfriend, lost a friend in an argument or had another blowout with my mom - I knew I would be okay. Even when I didn't have anywhere to go, I knew I would be okay.

I guess that's why being on my own never scared me much. I'd left home at 17 out of what I saw as a necessity. My life after that - for four years - was a whirlwind of safe havens, crack houses and mirages of home. I did what was necessary to take care of myself and never really saw a reason to be afraid. Covering myself with my clothes so I could sleep in the backseat of my car, sleeping on disgusting carpet - whatever it took, I had the strength to get through it. I just always felt like the two people I trusted the most - God and myself - were on top of everything.

So while I do suppose I owe Whitesnake a good amount of gratitude for helping me through all those crazy years of my youth, I have a message for them:

Dear Whitesnake,

You wrote the song that kept me strong through every bad boyfriend, ill-fated friendship, job loss and family fued of my young adult life. Could you please write one for me now? Something rockin' with good guitar riffs and a catchy chorus about working too much and needing a vacation?

Thanks! Love you!

Forever Your Fan,

Amy of the Butrfly Garden (My Official Title)

------------------------------------------------------

This post was written for Novemberance's October Writing Project and is cross-posted in my Cre8Buzz blog.

------------------------------------------------------

Missing.

2007-10-22T14:58:00.000-06:00

I was driving down my street, slowing to turn into my driveway when I saw a pink streak zoom across the road in front of me.

When Sunshine realized I was turning in, she scooted her bike out of the way and waved.

“Sorry.” She said through my car window while pulling off her bike helmet.

“Sorry for what?” I replied.

“For parking in your way.” She didn’t understand where my sharpness had come from.

“Oh, I see. I thought maybe you were apologizing for racing across the road on your bike without checking for cars.”

She put on her “Busted” face.

“We’ve talked about this. This is your last warning. The next time I see you do something dangerous like that, I will take your bike away. I would rather you not have a bike than me not have you.”

“Okay.” She said, sounding a bit defeated. I felt bad for yelling at her as soon as I got home.

“Are you coming in?” I asked.

“No, I’m going to ride my bike a little more.”

“Okay – you just make sure you’re CAREFUL. It only takes a second to look for cars. You’re not too busy for that!”

I went in the house and started on dinner. The Man was downstairs playing games with Ninja Boy.

Twenty minutes later, the spaghetti was nearly done and I called my boys up and asked NB to call for his sister.

“She’s not out there.” He said a few minutes later.

This was not the first time she’s been late coming home. It was not the first time we called for her and she had gone out of hearing range (usually inside a friends’ house). I walked down our sidewalk and called both directions for her, then went in to eat.

“Well, her dinner will just be cold, then.” I said, trying to cover my anxiety.

We all ate. Then started to clean up dinner. I couldn’t hide it anymore. I shut of the water and threw on a sweatshirt. “I’m going to walk to the end of the block.” I called as I ran out the door.

I walked up the block, then back down to the other end. I peered around the houses to check the back yards. I looked for her bike hiding by bushes. I called her name.

Stopping back at home, The Man informed me that her bike was there the whole time. She had switched to her scooter. So we both walked, again, up and down the block searching for a sign of her.

I walked down to the park that, even though it is out of her “play area” in the neighborhood, is not too far for her to get to. No luck there. I walked back through the field where some kids take their bikes to “jump.” That was when the feeling flooded my body. I had fought it off, disguised it as anger, pretended it wasn’t there. But there it was, full on and fierce: fear.

I have an absurd knack for envisioning the worst situation possible. Not just thinking, “Oh, I hope THIS didn’t happen.” No. Perhaps it is due to all the graphic images my mind has taken in over the years, but I SEE the worst happening. My ‘visions’ come more when I’m driving, but they are never as bad as when I’m looking for my child in a vacant field.

What if someone snatched her? Just pulled up and grabbed her? What could she do??

What if they didn’t TAKE her, but just harmed her and left her somewhere? How would we ever find her?

I tried to shut it off. “That didn’t happen. She’s fine. She. Is. Fine.” I muttered to myself repeatedly.

I went back home and told The Man I couldn’t find her. He got in the car to patrol the neighborhood. He could see my lips quivering and told me to wait at the house in case she called.

I looked at Ninja Boy with desperation in my eyes and asked him if he would be willing to go door to door to check for her. He obliged.

I walked calmly in the house, into the bathroom. I closed the door, then fell to my knees sobbing.

“Please, God. PLEASE. Bring my girl home okay.” I cried over and over.

My crying was interrupted by Ninja Boy, who burst through the garage door yelling, “HERE SHE COMES!!!!”

I thanked The Lord, wiped my face and ran outside.

Sunshine met me with a smile. “Oh, no!” I cried, “Where WERE you!?”

“At…my…friend’s house.” She said meekly.

“What friend?”

“Um. My friend right down there.”

“So…you went to someone’s house that YOU don’t even know their name…and you thought that would be okay!?? You didn’t think we would be worried!?”

She didn’t know what to say. She knew she had done wrong.

“I’m not even going to yell at you because Daddy is very mad and I know he will.”

She sat, sullen, at the kitchen table. I put her plate in front of her and kissed her on the head. “I was very scared, doll. VERY scared. I didn’t know where you were and I was scared and upset. I love you so much.”

She got her Daddy Lecture, choked down her cold spaghetti and went straight to bed.

When I tucked her in later, she told me she was sorry she had scared me and “I’ll never do that again!”

“That’s good, baby, because I don’t think I could handle worrying about you like that again.”

But I know – I have eleven more years before she’ll venture off on her own. Eleven years – mostly teenage – during which she is going to forget to call or be she’ll be late getting home. During which she will get a driver’s license and go on dates. Trips with friends, sleepovers, lock-ins, parties and The Yet to Be Determined. And then she’s going to leave me to be a grown up and I’ll have a whole new mess of reasons to worry about her.

I think I had better trade up for a stronger heart.

Because I really should get some work done...

2007-10-18T06:46:00.000-06:00

You can entertain yourselves with this...

HSUS MySpace Page Take the Quiz!

Or this! (Thanks, Judy!!!)

Aren't I GORGEOUS??? I love me in cartoon!

RAWR!

2007-10-17T05:28:00.001-06:00

www.WordlessWednesday.com

Green Children...They're not so bad.

2007-10-15T18:23:00.000-06:00

Over on "The" network for bloggers, Cre8buzz, I learned about something I had to participate in from Cable Girl. It's called Blog Action Day.

It didn't even take a second thought to know what I wanted to write about: Kids.

The efforts we take today will mean very little if we don't teach our children why we do the things we do. It's easy to get caught up in just getting our tasks done and not stop to explain the "why's" and "how's" of daily life to our kids. But we have to remember that once these guys are on their own, they become the consumers of America. They become the people buying products and throwing them away. It's our job to teach our children how to take care of themselves - but it is also our job to teach them to take care of the place they live.

Getting them involved doesn't always seem easy. I try to get the kids involved with making our family sustainable without shoving it down their throats. I don't want them to resent recycling or composting, I want them to embrace it as the way they live and will continue to live their whole lives.

Mainly, I've done this by making them the honoree compost taker-outers. While I realize this is not a very cool job, I do what I can to make it cool, like needing it done when they are grounded or need to be getting ready for bed. I'm still working on a way to make taking the garbage and recycling out fun.

There are more subtle ways to pass a green attitude to your kids. (Seriously, peeps, it isn't that hard. You know me. Impossibly easy. Impossibly easy lifestyle changes, that is!)

Some ways I do it:

~I've stopped saying "Throw it away" as a blanket statement and replaced it with "Recycle it." I would say , "Go throw this away," assuming they would know that I meant for them to recycle it. Could I really blame them when their school papers ended up in the garbage? When I make a clear direction for it, they pick up on it. Now they ask me ifsomething is recyclable.

~I ask them for ideas. When we have a container that is going to be recycled or thrown away, I ask if they can think of something else to use it for first. They don't always think of a use for it, but at least I know I'm getting those wheels turning.

~I talk to them. I point out things that are eco-friendly and things that are not. I explain why for both reasons. I know that they know that trash doesn't disappear when the garbage man comes.

~I don't buy them everything they ask for. In fact, I hardly ever do. We too often (and I was so guilty of this until a couple years ago!) make purchases that we don't even need. A little toy here and there never hurt anyone...but that insanely plastic-filled package it came in will. I also let them know why we make these decisions - so they can take that knowledge and ~~ask for something with less packaging~~ remember it the next time they ask for a toy.

~I don't let trash rest outside. Whether it's in my yard or at the park I always make a point to pick up trash I see on the ground. Long-time readers may already know this, but my Sunshine has become quite the complainer when it comes to litterers. When she sees garbage, she immediately picks it up and disgustedly says, "Why couldn't they just THROW IT AWAY!? Sheesh! I'll do it!"

~We bring up the Energy Hog. This creepy character was introduced to our family over the summer. He serves as a reminder of what we don't want to be. "Lights on? Let's not be an energy hog!" "Shower's a little long! Let's not be an energy hog!" Because the character was already introduced to them in a much cooler environment than home, they caught on to this pretty quickly.

These are just a few simple ways to introduce a greener life to your kids. Find what works for your family.

Change what you can. Work on what you can't. Be proud of the changes you make and the ideal you set.

If you'd like some more ideas on teaching green, check out this link from iVillage.

Also check out some more of the Blog Action Day participants at BlogActionDay.org!

October 15th

2007-10-15T12:55:00.000-06:00

In honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day, I wanted to share this poem I just got from Robyn Bear, founder of October15th.com.

Comments are off for now.

Tonight we light a candle for Isabella Grace.

And for all the other babies who left the world too soon.

"A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

~Author unknown

2007-10-11T10:09:00.000-06:00

Seven!

2007-10-10T17:53:00.000-06:00

Happy Birthday, Sunshine!!

www.WordlessWednesday.com

Why I UCC

2007-10-09T09:10:00.000-06:00

As much as I like to joke about the churches in my area labeling me a “sinner” and refusing to marry me because The Man and I have been living, well, in sin – It’s mostly a cover-up.

“Ooh, those Baptists!” I say as we drive by. “Too good to let sinners like us in their church!”

I stick my tongue out at the beautiful Swedish Lutheran church on the lake between my mom’s and my house. Because they never even bothered to answer me when I inquired about their “strongly request” statement.

And I do it all with a smile on my face. “Haha, just kidding!” I say.

But really – I’m not kidding. I’m angry with them. I’m angry that they took it upon themselves to judge me – not knowing a damn thing about me, except that I live with my fiancé. I’m angry that they made me feel like I was less of a person because of the life I’ve chosen.

I want to ask them, “What would make a better Christian? Someone who took on two children to raise as her own – with no legal binds, no monetary supplement, no promise of any future. Or someone who passed up that opportunity because doing so would require that I live with them and that just doesn’t fit what you call ‘God’s Plan.’”

I have fought the urge to call them up and ask just why they still felt that be so necessary. Why they feel the need to make ME feel like I am just trash.

I had the opportunity to say something Wednesday. See, someone from the office of the Swedish Lutheran church responded to my membership inquiry asking if someone had gotten back to me yet.

Some of you know that my tongue can be awfully sharp. I don’t always think about things before I say – or type (and send) – them.

I wrote what I felt and then edited it to make it a little more appropriate. I was polite and expressed my thanks for getting back to me.

But I left in one line that was not friendly, but also not spiteful like I tend to be – It was just honest.

I have started driving to my old church in _____ and plan to have the wedding there now. Location means nothing when acceptance is the real issue.

That was immediately returned with a rush of apologies.

I'm so sorry that you didn't receive a response to that inquiry. I have not heard that this church has a policy regarding living together before marriage, and doubt that would be an issue regarding your upcoming marriage. We (the church) are in the midst of a search for a pastor (Pastor M is our interim pastor) and expected to call a new pastor in October. Pastor M may have assumed he would not be the pastor who would be here when you plan to marry. I sincerely hope you will attend a service here. The members of this church are friendly and caring. Pastor M is a wonderful minister. Please let me know if I can help you in any way. And thanks for the quick response! Since I have your address, I will send you our October newsletter.

That was nice. It was nice that she reached out to me. It doesn’t give me back the night I spent crying in bed feeling like trash because yet another church deemed me ‘inappropriate.’ And it’s too late to change my plans now. But still, it helped me feel better.

Then, shortly after, I got an email from Pastor M. titled, “sorry for the misscommunication![sic]” Among his apologies for the “lost” email and an explanation of his interim duties was something that angered me again:

The only policies Spring Lake have concerning marriages are in the info I sent you. There is no policy concerning couples living together.

Because I am neurotic and save EVERYTHING, allow me to pull the fourth paragraph out of the file he is talking about…the one called “Wedding Policies:”

Our congregation prays that you will be happily married "as long as you both shall live." We hope that you treat each other as gifts from God. We also hope that you will hold off in some things until your marriage date. Our congregation strongly requests that couples refrain from living together and from fully expressing their God‑given gift of sexuality until that time. It is worth the wait!

Since he IS the interim Pastor, there is a good possibility that he didn’t write the policies. There is a good chance he’s never even really read them. And there is an even better chance that he never saw the email in the first place. I appreciate and accept the apologies. I will let it go and might even stop in for a service.

But I learned something through this misunderstanding. See, when the Baptists wouldn’t marry us, I wasn’t that upset (not until it became a pattern, anyway). The Man had told me they were a pretty strict bunch. But I was raised Lutheran and had never in my life been harshly judged by one. They not only left me feeling like trash for the decisions I’ve made – they left me questioning where I even belong as a Christian.

I once again found myself in the embrace of the United Church of Christ. The church that was there for my single mom when she needed them. Who provided an apartment for our family while they had people working on our house. The church that provided - with no fees - the pastor who baptized my daughter and then the sanctuary in which we held her funeral.

Even though the Lutherans weren’t being as judgemental as I had thought, I never even had to question it with the UCC church. It never even crossed my mind that I wouldn’t be welcome there.

It was kind of like home to me.

From Behind The Stir-Ups...Your Worst Ob/*Gyn Stories

2007-10-04T05:25:00.000-06:00

Hi, there! Look at you, all dolled up your paper gown! You look cold, dear. Why don’t you hop up on that table and I’ll get your blood pressure taken.

You seem nervous…everything okay?

What’s that? Bad experiences here at the OB/*GYN office, huh? We get a lot like you. A lot.

So many, in fact, we started to document it. Just look at them all (We're also documenting them at Brillig's place, don't forget to add your link there as well!):

From Behind The Stir-Ups...My Story

2007-10-04T05:05:00.000-06:00

**UPDATED 11-20-07 - If you're a damn pervert looking for porn, look elsewhere you sick bastard. Thank you.**

The story that started this whole gynecological fest was about my old doctor, Dr. H. I thought it was only fair that I talk about him again.

When I got pregnant, it was a … surprise. I was at a time in my life where I was just starting to live a responsible life - working, taking care of a family. But I had yet to get myself on a regular schedule with my physical exams. And yes…even my gynecologist visit. I still went every year, it was just randomly done in response to my mom’s nagging. Usually because she wanted me to make appointments for both of us. So we could go together! (So, you’re starting to see how this whole experience has been for me, right?)

That led to me calling every professional clinic in the area of a certain suburb asking if they had a female doctor named Chris. Because that’s all I knew about ‘my‘ doctor.

So, back to me getting pregnant. I thought it was time I started seeing, you know, ONE doctor. Maybe learn his name, get to know him a bit. So I looked at the pictures on the internet and whittled down my selections.

“She looks like a beeee-otch!” (She did, like the bad lady in Austin Powers!)
“He looks too old.”
“Hey, Dr. H, huh? He looks like a nice guy. Good looking, but still too old for me. That’s my doctor.”

Turns out, that is NOT the best way to pick your doctor. Hmph.

Dr. H was a nice guy. And he was good looking but too old for me. But he was also very timid when it came to talking about my lady parts. I would like that in a regular guy, but not my gynecologist. After all, it IS his job.

When he did my b*reast exam, if I looked down, he looked away.

He stammered and blushed any time he had to say ‘b*reast’ or ‘v*agina.’ And, of course, anything associated with the br*east or v*agina.

And I mentioned before how chronically late he was, but just to document it again: Standard hour wait in the waiting room and half hour wait in the exam room. An hour and a half. Of just waiting.

But all these flaws were just minor things. Crap, it’s not like I’m marrying the guy, right? He’s just gotta keep an eye on my goods for almost a year.

That all changed the day he called me fat.

I must have been eight months along. I knew I was putting on weight. I may not have understood the way calories worked exactly, but I knew eating brownies, marshmallows and chocolate syrup on chocolate ice cream from Cold Stone Creamery wasn’t exactly keeping me slim. But, HELLO? I was PREGNANT! That’s what my family said! “Honey! You’re NOT fat - you’re PREGNANT!”

Yet here this man, who asked me about my sexual partners in a ‘round about way’ was flat out telling me, “You’re gaining weight too fast, you need to watch what you eat and start walking more.”

“Well, I TRY to walk, but it’s been a hundred degrees outside! That can’t be good for the baby!” I pleaded. How the hell could he be telling me to this??

“Then try walking at night.”

“At NIGHT? That’s not safe!”

“Sure it is.” He said smugly.

“Where do you live? Edina??? Because where I live, it is NOT safe for a hugely pregnant woman to go walking by herself late at night!” And it wasn’t.

I went home that night more pissed than I ever had been at a doctor. I had doctors tell me I was overweight before. (I lived with my grandparents for a while when I was younger. They liked to feed me.) But I had never had one do it with so much arrogance.

I kept him on as my obstetrician until the end of my pregnancy with my 6 week exam. But ONLY because I loved his nurse and she knew a lot about me.

But after the boob incident, that sucker was outta there.

VirtualSprite said of male ob/gyns, “My feeling, if you don't have the parts, you don't have an opinion.”

And I couldn’t agree more. My new doctor is a woman.

**Don't forget to throw your link in the post up top and then head over to Brillig's place to read hers and add your link there, too!**

Come Out, Come Out, Whoever You Are!

2007-10-03T08:07:00.000-06:00

See that perty little button? Schmutzie says "Delurk, Mofos!" And I have to agree.

I understand lurking. I do it myself from time-to-time. Sometimes, you just don't have anything you'd like to add to the conversation. Or some other excuse.

But today is a special day for bloggers in which our lurkers come out and say "Hi! I'm _____. Not a psycho stalker!" And that makes us feel a little more secure in the fact that our "Returning Visitors" number is much higher than the number of comments we get. It lets us know that you're out there.

So, if you would kindly...DELURK! And we'll all be a little happier. Well, I will anyway. :D

(I'm talking to YOU, too, People Who Know Me In Real Life! Please! Let my e-friends know I really do know people in real life! Click "Comments" below...You can even do it anonymously and just sign your first name, okay? )

Roots

2007-10-03T05:16:00.000-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

On High Expectations

2007-10-01T05:40:00.001-06:00

I don’t think I ask for a lot.

Even when it comes to my wedding – something I’ve been secretly planning in my head for at least ten years – I don’t think I set really high expectations. At least not compared to a lot of the “Bridezilla” stories I’ve heard.

This is what I wanted:

We marry in a small, white country church near our house. All of our friends and family move on to the cocktail hour at the banquet hall while we take pictures out front by the steeple.

When we arrive to the beautifully (but simply!) decorated banquet hall, everyone greets us, then we move into the dining area where we feast on our moderately-priced dinners.

After dinner, The Man and I bust out our dance moves for the first dance, then everyone joins us on the large dance floor to groove to our DJ – my iPod (which I have, for no reason, named Sam).

After cake and dancing and night of fun, the adults are happily (but not overly) intoxicated and shuffle into the rented bus back to their hotel.

Simple, right? I don’t think that’s too much.

So how can one girl encounter so many problems with such a simple plan?

The only churches that resemble my vision met us with this response: “We expect couples to honor God's design and purpose for marriage by not living together before marriage.”

Hmm…would it be better if I went to live with my mom for a bit? Does the fact that we’ve already had a child play into this at all?

I thought I had found a loophole when one pastor wrote “we strongly request that couples refrain from living together…” and responded with “Strongly request? Does that mean you’ll accept us if we ARE?” To which I never received a reply.

We have found a church a little closer to the city. My old church, as a matter of fact. A Congregational church, where they only care that you love Jesus, not how you’re loving your mate. They don’t make me feel like a dirty whore. I like that in a church.

On to that banquet hall…the only places I’ve checked are golf courses. In my area, there is an abundance of golf courses. Some are very nice and some are a little run down. To avoid making visits to places I couldn’t afford, I got all their menus and policies from them via email or their websites and added up every amenity, gratuity, fee and tax I could think of. And realized that I can’t afford it. Any of them. Okay, maybe the one with the wood paneling, brown folding chairs and dance floor the size of a bathtub – but do I really want it there? No.

I have called off the wedding three times (only to people that know I will change my mind, of course) and have given up on the planning at least fifty times.

I would really like to get us some more time. After next year, we’ll have a little equity in our house that we could use. We’ll have another year of tax returns to put toward it. We’d have more TIME.

But then I’m met with “You can MAKE it special. It’s not about where you have it – it’s about you two getting married.” Which sounds nice and all, but it’s kind of a lot of bullshit. I don’t really want to spend $4,000 on the caterer to eat it in the basement of the VFW. I don’t really want my family to fly in from all over the country to eat KFC (which, judging from my disappearing money outlets, is going to be our caterer of choice). I’m secure in our relationship. Especially now that I have my ring. This wedding is supposed to be the “grandest party” we can throw to celebrate our choice to be together forever.

Is it really too much to ask that it be just a little bit like I’ve pictured it??

G*yno From Hell?

2007-09-28T10:23:00.000-06:00

So all my dirty talk the other day got Brill pretty excited. Oh, now that just sounds bad, doesn't it?

Let me start over.

My post the other day brought to mind that there are probably A LOT of horror stories from the OB/*GYN office. So Brilliant Brillig came up with the idea of a group writing challenge. Because I’d follow her to the moon, I eagerly accepted to co-host.

We call it "From Behind the Stir-Ups - Your Worst Ob/G*yn Stories"

Most women have at least ONE story about a trip to the gyn*ecologist gone awry. (Not that a "normal" visit is all that much fun!) And in hindsight, those bad experiences can either be educational or just damn hilarious.

So start digging up those repressed memories because Thursday, October 4th is the day the internet will explode with tales from down-under.

To play along, just visit Brillig and I that Thursday and put your link into our Mr. Linky. (Why does everything seem so dirty to me today?)

I’m hearing a lot of excuses over at Brill’s place like, “I can’t think of anything.” That’s why we’re giving it almost a week. My most recent bad experiences have been posted here, so I’m really going to have to think as well.

It doesn’t have to be the most horrifying thing ever or the funniest thing ever. It could be as simple as a comment they made, like this gem from my new doctor:

“Wow! We sure got the stretch-marks didn’t we?”

So play along, because that’s what all the cool kids are doing. You DO want to be cool, don’t you?

See Shells?

2007-09-26T06:07:00.000-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

B*oobies

2007-09-25T18:18:00.000-06:00

Some of you fine readers may have noticed that I don't speak much about...well...unspeakable things. I don't talk about things that go on in the bathroom, the bedroom, or any other room I take my clothes off in.

But pay close attention, because I'm about to use a word I may never use on here again: The "N" word:

I had myself a little scare a while back in which my (here it is, folks. Brace yourselves.) n*ipple inverted. What. The. Hell????? That had never happened before! I told The Man. He gave me a weird look and told me to go to the doctor. I told my mom and she gave me her patented, "Honey, I'd go see a doctor!" So that's just what I did. I saw my gynocologist. The same man who made me wait an hour and a half (on a good day) for routine pregnancy check-ups. The same man who was always dragging students in to check out my womanlies. The same man who blushed when saying "v*agina." (GASP - A two for one!)

After my customary Waiting Room Nap, I finally saw my doctor (and his student, of course!). I told him what had been going on and he uncomfortably asked me questions, felt up my b*oob and said, "I ... think ... that's normal."

"You think it's normal???"

"Ah, yeeeah. I think it is. Come back if you have any more problems."

"But, Doctor H, I was kind of scared that it might be IBC."

He laughed. (He FRICKEN laughed!) "What's IBC?" Asked his student.

"Inflammatory B*reast Cancer." I stated, hoping my snotiness was noticed.

"No...no, I don't think so." He said. "Come in if you have more problems."

And just like that, my $200 worth of my doctor's time (five minutes) was over. And I felt no safer than when I walked in the door 95 minutes earlier.

That was a while ago. I never showed any more symptoms. But I did switch doctors - to a woman who readily answered any questions I had about IBC and checked me over again for it just in case.

You know how I heard about IBC? A chain email. One I actually had to check out on Snopes because it sure looked like one of those hoax diseases made up to scare women.

It sure isn't a hoax. WhyMommy knows that all too well.

I know I'm awfully late jumping on this bandwagon and I hope they don't mind. But now that I have the chance, I'm spreading the word here at the Garden. It's too important to put off any longer.

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WhyMommy has a form of br*east cancer that was not found by her monthly exam and feeling a lump in her b*reast, like most of us would think. Hers was more subtle than that. This is her story:

We hear a lot about brea*st cancer these days. One in eight women will be diagnosed with b*reast cancer in their lifetimes, and there are millions living with it in the U.S. today alone. But did you know that there is more than one type of b*reast cancer?

I didn’t. I thought that br*east cancer was all the same. I figured that if I did my monthly b*reast self-exams, and found no lump, I’d be fine.

Oops. It turns out that you don’t have to have a lump to have b*reast cancer. Six weeks ago, I went to my OB/*GYN because my b*reast felt funny. It was red, hot, inflamed, and the skin looked…funny. But there was no lump, so I wasn’t worried. I should have been. After a round of antibiotics didn’t clear up the inflammation, my doctor sent me to a b*reast specialist and did a skin punch biopsy. That test showed that I have inflammatory b*reast cancer, a very aggressive cancer that can be deadly.

Inflammatory b*reast cancer is often misdiagnosed as mastitis because many doctors have never seen it before and consider it rare. “Rare” or not, there are over 100,000 women in the U.S. with this cancer right now; only half will survive five years. Please call your OB/*GYN if you experience several of the following symptoms in your bre*ast, or any unusual changes: redness, rapid increase in size of one b*reast, persistent itching of bre*ast or n*ipple, thickening of brea*st tissue, stabbing pain, soreness, swelling under the arm, dimpling or ridging (for example, when you take your bra off, the bra marks stay – for a while), flattening or retracting of the n*ipple, or a texture that looks or feels like an orange (called peau d’orange). Ask if your G*YN is familiar with inflammatory br*east cancer, and tell her that you’re concerned and want to come in to rule it out.

There is more than one kind of b*reast cancer. Inflammatory b*reast cancer is the most aggressive form of breas*t cancer out there, and early detection is critical. It’s not usually detected by mammogram. It does not usually present with a lump. It may be overlooked with all of the changes that our bre*asts undergo during the years when we’re pregnant and/or nursing our little ones.

It’s important not to miss this one.Inflammatory b*reast cancer is detected by women and their doctors who notice a change in one of their br*easts. If you notice a change, call your doctor today. Tell her about it. Tell her that you have a friend with this disease, and it’s trying to kill her. Now you know what I wish I had known before six weeks ago.

You don’t have to have a lump to have b*reast cancer.

P.S. Feel free to steal this post too. I’d be happy for anyone in the blogosphere to take it and put it on their site, no questions asked. Dress it up, dress it down, let it run around the place barefoot. I don’t care. But I want the word to get out. I don’t want another young mom — or old man — or anyone in between — to have to stare at this thing on their chest and wonder, is it mastitis? Is it a rash? Am I overreacting? This cancer moves FAST, and early detection and treatment is critical for survival.

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PS - You can read an interview with WhyMommy from Parents magazine's GoodyBlog!

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And, in other br*east-related news, Worker Mommy told me about a new contest from our girls over at 5 Minutes For Mom! Dyson has introduced their Pink Dyson exclusively at Target, where they donate $40 from every purchase to br*east cancer research. If you're poor like me, take a chance at winning one at 5 Minutes for Mom by leaving a comment and spreading the word.

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And this will conclude the usage of words such as Br*east, Va*gina, Nippl*e and the likes at The Butrfly Garden. For the most part, anyway.

From Austin, With Love

2007-09-25T07:55:00.000-06:00

We have Sunshine's birthday coming up in a couple of weeks and I’m trying to get her more involved in the planning process this year.

Last weekend, we were trying to make a list of guests to come to her "Makeover/Fashion Show" Party.

She tried several times to invite boys, particularly a boy named Austin.

"Does Austin like making bracelets and playing dress up?" I asked.

"No...but...he can watch. Or take pictures!" Sunshine replied.

"I think you should invite people who will enjoy the activities that we have planned." I stated. I was NOT about to plan a whole new party with all new favors (plus, doesn’t that sound a little creepy?).

I know she has been hanging out with the boys more this year than in Kindergarten. Her dinnertime stories usually involve playing football at recess or some boy trying to take part of her lunch. But I didn't think that meant she didn't have any girlfriends at school.

"No girls like me." She confessed.

"How do you know that? Did they say it, or are you guessing?" I prodded.

"They don't talk to me."

"Have you tried talking to them?" I asked.

"...no..."

Ninja Boy thought of plenty of girls around the neighborhood and bus stop that would want to come, but I was still worried about why the girls at school weren't taking to her.

Then Saturday morning as we were getting our bags in the car to go to the cabin, she pulled a folded piece of notebook paper from her bag and handed it to me.

"That's from Austin." She said.

"Wow. Love, huh?" (They're starting so young nowadays!)

"Yeah." said Sunshine, "I told him, 'How can you love me? I'm just your friend!'"

"Good girl." I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief.

The note convinced me that her 'he's the only friend I've got!' story was probably more fiction than reality. That, or the rest of the girls are just jealous. ;)

e-hugs.

2007-09-24T07:31:00.000-06:00

Thank you all for your sweet words and thoughts for Bella and the family.

We had a very full weekend and I'll share more pictures throughout the week.

We went out of town and didn't get back until very late last night.

I just wanted to let you all know how much I truly appreciate your comments and emails and I will respond to them as soon as I can.

2

2007-09-20T07:16:00.000-06:00

Two years ago today was the worst day of my life.

Two years ago today my life was turned upside down.

Two years ago today we learned that Isabella would not be born alive.

Today is not an easy day. Especially to be at work. I’ve always blamed this place a little for losing her. It’s really hard to be here today. And I’ve only been in for twenty minutes.

I will look forward to Saturday and hopefully that will get me through. Saturday is a bittersweet day for me. As sorrowful as that day was two years ago, it was also a very proud day for me. I was proud of my family for sticking by me through it all – waiting all day for me to give birth when they knew what tears would follow. I was proud of The Man for how strong he was through everything and the strength he gave me. I was proud of myself for making it through what I thought would be impossible. But most of all, I was proud of the life we created. No matter how short it was – it was perfect. Perfect in the way that all she ever felt was love and adoration.

That day I finally got to meet the little girl who had spent nine months kicking my organs and flipping around inside me. I finally got to see her beautiful face – and it looked exactly how I had imagined it would. Exactly.

So I will, today, suffer through the hurt and pain of the memories of two years ago. Because I know that Saturday will be spent remembering a beautiful child who lived a beautiful life. Remembering how much everyone loves her. Remembering how everyone came to welcome her to the world and hand her over to God. Remembering that she is NOT a painful memory – but my beautiful baby who I will one day hold in my arms again.

ADHD Awareness Day

2007-09-19T04:47:00.000-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

ADHD Awareness

And This is Just the Tip of the "Internet To-Do" Iceberg

2007-09-17T05:02:00.000-06:00

I made a little progress Sunday, but it only took a few SOS participants and a some hot celeb gossip to bring me right back up into the HUNDREDS of posts that I have yet to read.

Just know: It's not you, it's me. Wait. That sounds wrong. I'm really trying to get to reading and writing, but that's going to mean I need a few days off.

See, some ~~nosy asshole~~ higher-up in another department took it upon himself to spy on our department and report anything we were doing that didn't look like work. Even eating lunch. He is using this as basis for his arguement that we should all be working overtime. To make my boss look better and to avoid more overtime, I decided to not go on the net at all at work for a couple weeks. Or take lunch. (Damn my human body with these organs! once cyborg surgeries become available, I'll be the first in line, there, Timmers. Then I won't need to use those personal "pee" minutes, either!)

I'll see you for Wordless Wednesday at the very least.

And...*sniff*... I miss you all.

Albino Peacock

2007-09-12T05:35:00.000-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

Hard Work Hasn't Killed Me Yet

2007-09-11T07:50:00.000-06:00

And there are pictures, so that meant I didn't kill anyone else, either. (Celebrate the small victories, people!)

After days of digging and raking, we spent another tamping the dirt down, trying to get it level.

Even though we were very tired and wanted to quit, we knew we couldn't. For my cat would never be clean again.

Another day of laying the paver base and leveling out the sand. Then another laying the blocks.

And just one more adding the final touches (like my solar garden lights!),

and the patio was finally DONE.

Now we're too broke to buy chairs to sit on the patio, but it still looks nice, right? Right?

Stolen Soul

2007-09-06T10:45:00.000-06:00

It wasn’t very special.

At least not on the surface.

Just a plain manila folder.

But inside that boring old folder were scraps of paper.

On those scraps of paper – every poem, story, deep thought and dark secret my teenage life spurred from 15 to 19.

Even throughout the most turbulent times in my life like when I was living out of my car, that folder stayed with me.

It was my best friend. The only thing that ever understood me. The only thing that knew all about me. The only thing I could tell everything to and it would stay by my side. Without judging, without laughing. It gave no response at all. Just stayed with me.

It held the story I wrote about my brother dying – a story I’ve yet to re-write because I just don’t want to live through it again.

It held poems that to this day I still consider ‘good’ – but can only remember portions of.

It held lots of poems that would probably embarrass me now, but told the story of my life none-the-less.

It held a letter to a baby I never met.

It held deep, twisted reflections of the depression I suffered many of those years.

It held ME.

And it was always with me.

Until one day, I noticed it was gone.

I had been staying at The Man’s trailer – split-shift babysitting with Scari while he worked. That had to be the last place I had it. Yes! I had let The Man read my story about Tommy. I know that’s where I left it.

It’s probably obvious where that folder went. They probably read all my scraps while laughing, teasing, joking and judging. Yes, probably.

It’s not so much the fact that I lost everything I’d ever written. That hurt. I can’t lie – even for the sake of my pride – it hurt. But the part that hurt the most is that I didn’t write again for years. The one inanimate object I’d chosen to be my eternal friend had left me. I couldn’t even trust a fucking folder. So instead, I kept my feelings inside me. Something I’d been taught long ago – with the exception of using writing as an escape. (My mother is an excellent writer.) But I no longer had that escape. Those thoughts, feelings, reflections – all stayed in my heart.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that folder lately. A LOT. I’ve been wishing it would magically show up and my undeserved writer’s block would be dissolved. Wishing I’d have a reason to believe that I could pour my heart onto paper and allow only those I wish to see it.

But that won’t happen. I’m sure it is destroyed. I’m sure it was fun for them.

I hope someday karma repays them. Shows them what it feels like to have your head and your heart ripped open for all to see – for all to judge – for all to laugh at. I hope then they will understand what their actions meant.

Laborious Day

2007-09-03T21:21:00.000-06:00

Are all Labor Days this labor some after you become an adult? Or is it only after you become a homeowner?

They give me an extra day off work and that somehow warrants an eleven by nine foot patch of dirt in my yard, a gaping $400 hole in my savings account and at least three more days of work.

It all started when we noticed all the dandelions that had made their way back into the yard. If you only knew the sunburns I’ve endured - the endless hours I’ve spent hunched over or kneeling in my yard digging those bitches out! Not that our hard work hasn’t paid off - I would say our lawn is 50% greener and more plush than it was in its miserable state last year. Even after the drought. (Thank you, Week and a Half of Rain.) But still, they reared their yellow little heads on a day that I had no plans.

“We’ll just pull all the little heads off, so they can’t seed. Then we’ll get them again next year.” I said to The Man on our way to get some coffee Saturday morning.

We soon settled on only doing the front yard. We both scoffed at the amount of crab crass in and around the marigold bed. And then noticed all the wild life that had moved in on the field we had now surrounding our foundation.

After coffee, we passed by Sears, who - even though I swore I would never shop there again (It’s a different location, at least) - had a CLEARANCE banner up.

“Let’s stop in and see if they’re clearancing out weed whackers [Why is it grammatically inappropriate to make “clearance” a verb? Like, “to clearance,” right?] - we’re definitely going to need one next year so it would be best to get it now while they’re cheap.” I suggested.

Thrilled beyond thrilled that I suggested we go to Big Blue, he hurried in and wasted no time selecting his new semi-power tool.

But once he cut the talls grass away from the house I noticed the grass that was growing there was sticker grass!! I’m pretty sure that’s not its scientific name, but it’s grass that grows burrs - burrs that I HATE pulling out of feet. Especially my own.

So I pulled. And pulled. And The Man edged. (The driveway. Then the sidewalk.) He got lost in his chore and I in mine. Some time later, I needed a break. I looked at my work - I had a HUGE pile of crabgrass and sticker grass and a large lot of yard that was mainly dirt and a layer of old dead grass. The Man marveled in my Super Weed Pulling Skillz and noticed what I had - it was the perfect size for a patio. I’d even made it a perfect rectangle - because if I don’t set limits, I often get in over my head.

Speaking of setting limits, do you know what happens when I don't??

Two Days. Two days of digging. And sifting. And hauling to the compost.

Two days of talking about how easy this patio was going to be. Pshaw! What, like, twenty patio blocks…some sand…maybe some rock? We could probably add some rock. Yeah, totally! This is going to be AWESOME!

Went back to the home supply store this morning.

This is going to be hard!

Seriously - the design thing put FIFTY PATIO BLOCKS on my list. FIFTY.

We also needed: a metal rake, a tamper, LOTS of sand, LOTS of paver base and did I mention all the digging?

We tried to decompress a couple times during some welcomed breaks. My nephew turned FIVE. Just in time for KINDERGARTEN! He had a rockin’ Pirate Party with a ton of people. Even though we were extremely late, we were fed yummy food and drank lots of ~~gin~~ raspberry tea. They even branded us with their rebel symbols and didn’t make us walk the plank. (Although they did sick their emo on me.)

We also had a BBQ at my mom’s Monday night. All I can really say is after the conversation that went on, I’m glad I opted for the chicken.

We put a little more effort into this so-called patio tonight, but tomorrow is the first day of school and we couldn’t make the kids work all night ~~again~~. We had papers to fill out and clothes to set out.

I sincerely hope that in a few days, I will have a picture of a cute little patio to share with you. I hope - because I don’t think I’ll be taking pictures of any of the alternative scenarios.

My Little Sparkly People

2007-08-31T08:26:00.000-06:00

Why is it that when my light turns green, I have to wait for the people to finish going through the intersection before I can go?

Why is it that when I’m driving five miles over the speed limit, people glare at me as though I’d set out on my day intent on making them drive “slow?”

Why is it that people feel so little value for my life that they will risk it just so they don’t have to wait for me to pass them before they get to pull onto the highway?

Why is it, that I wonder these things every. damn. day, yet I still haven’t found a job that doesn’t require commuting an hour down the one of the deadliest highways in the state?

Just wondering.

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My Google Stars have been piling up, as I haven’t posted them in a couple weeks.

Today, I’m going to do it differently. You have to read at least one, because I want to hear your thoughts on it in the comments. Yep, I am telling you what to do. But only because I care! And while a couple of these are merely for entertainment, a few of them are really important and NEED to be shared. So, don’t be all crabby about it and just do it. Love and hugs.

In order of date starred:

* Chesca the Ex-Skindiver – poetic as always - had a Midlife Epiphany – not to be confused with a Midlife Crisis.

* Shauna Loves Chocolate had a loving (read: funny) post faux-written by her husband.

* Momma’s World comically Beat a Port-A-Potty to Death (a post she won a contest with!).

* Tabetha at Think Bigg shines some light on a terrifying disease that kills 50,000 people a year – yet is basically ignored.

* Ms. Think Bigg also debunked my theory that it was okay to use all my disposable water bottles – because I recycle. (Oh, the shame I feel!)

* With school starting up, Cooking With Whine’s Becki shares her hilarious list of tips for getting out the door in the morning.

* And just today, our WhiskeyMarie is celebrating her eleventh wedding anniversary. (Honey, that post you wrote for The Mr. – makes ME want to marry you!)

There you go, Oh Peoples of The Garden…

Now what have you learned today??

Like Their Parents Before Them

2007-08-29T07:50:00.000-06:00

"Rolling Down The Hill"

(No children were ~~seriously~~ injured in the Rolling Down of The Hill)

(Semi)Wordless Wednesday

100 Year Flood

2007-08-28T07:45:00.000-06:00

Sorry for the disappearance, loves. I’m here. Working my little hiney off.

I took Friday off work and headed south to my old ‘hood. Down to the river valley, where they have been devastated by flash floods. Luckily, my grandparents’ house survived with only a little water in the basement. Just a couple miles south of their house, campgrounds were washed away. Streets closed. Houses evacuated. There were two houses that slid right down the bluff.

Driving down the Great River Road, we missed most of the devastation. We saw several roads closed, areas where the water hadn’t receded yet and piles of junk appliances building up on the side of the highway. We saw the emergency relief stations set up in Winona and bluff sides that had been washed away.

That was nothing compared to what happened to other areas. Check out this link my grandpa sent me. The pictures were hard for me to look at. I used to live in Rushford. It’s not a very big town – the whole thing was under water. I also used to live in some of the other areas around there that got hit so hard. It’s heartbreaking to think of all our old neighbors who lost everything. Some even lost their lives.

I can’t help but feel like we’re being punished for something. Flash flooding all around the country – wherever there isn’t severe drought and fires, that is. It just seems like we’re paying for something to me. I don’t know – maybe I’m a little crazy. Okay, maybe I’m a lot crazy.

Anyway, we did have a pleasant time down there and I’ll share *happy* pictures tomorrow.

Almost Time...Grandma's Lake (WW)

2007-08-22T07:08:00.001-06:00

Wordless Wednesday

You MIGHT be a MN Redneck...

2007-08-20T07:06:00.000-06:00

I was ecstatic.

The Man and I had finally settled on our wedding colors.

Plum and Gold.

Perfect for a late summer wedding.

I lay in bed reading a bridal magazine and envisioning my colors in the dresses, the decor, the flowers. "Deep purple rose petals with...I guess we'd have to have yellow instead of gold." I thought out loud.

I pictured Sunshine's petals hitting the aisle.

"Shit." I blurted out. "We picked the damn Vikings colors."

Back to the drawing board.

Two Harbors

2007-08-17T07:04:00.000-06:00

Busy at work again.

Here are some more pictures because I know ya'll miss your Butrfly Girl.

Two Harbors - The first stop on our drive up the Superior coast.

(Kate talked about her husband's "Go-To" shirt...this is one of The Man's two. )

When it was time to leave, we both had to use the bathroom pretty bad. There were tours of the lighthouse on shore for $2.50 with a big sign that said something like "Nice, Clean Restrooms." I found out that was pretty much a lie, but we got to go up into the lighthouse.

The Man reading in front of the lighthouse/Bed and Breakfast (there are areas you can't go in because they're being used by guests).

There should really be a sign that says "Don't Look Down." It was here that I started to get a little sick.

The Inner-Workings of the lighthouse. We weren't allowed to touch. Dammit.

I wonder what windows like this are called in a lighthouse. I will call it a Port Hole because it's fun to say.

View from the top.

The lighthouse also had a captain's cabin from a boat that had shipwrecked near here. (Thus, requiring the construction of a lighthouse).

There were so many cool things to play with inside! We even took turns manning the ship.

Yes, we are geeks. Completely compatible geeks, though. Don't worry for us.

My New Favorite Place

2007-08-14T08:06:00.000-06:00

The Sunday we were coming home from Duluth, we headed North up the Lake Superior shore first.

We stopped in Two Harbors, where I spent so much time trying to get a PERFECT picture (to no avail).

Heading toward Split Rock Lighthouse, we saw a State Park sign and thought we'd use the opportunity for a bathroom break.

Little did I know what we would find.

Gooseberry Falls is now my new favorite place. I am going to buy me a little tent and just go live there. Okay, maybe not (there is no internet...dear, sweet, internet.) but I REALLY want to go back - THIS year. With the kids. They would LOOOVE this!!

We never did make it to tour Split Rock, we'll have to save that for next time. We did stop at a rest stop and take a picture, though.

Next Time: Pictures from That Saturday!

Sweet Charity

2007-08-10T04:54:00.000-06:00

Chesca from Skindiving recently awarded me this button:

I am very proud to have received it. I haven't been doing much lately and that's been making me kind of feel bad. I naturally want to throw out an excuse like, "I've been so busy" or "we're really broke." But that goes against my main belief about charity - which is that we all have something to give. I can make time and I will.

However, I also believe that being a good philanthropist means knowing your stuff. It means not falling for the lies of people who prey on helpful souls. Even in the wake of tragedy, there are always people looking to make a sucker out of a good, honest person.

That's why it is so important that charities' volunteers know their stuff as well.

When I was home last week, I was very busy ~~on the computer~~ cleaning the house when the phone rang.

I looked at the caller ID:

877-749-7846
TOLL FREE

I thought it might be the bill collection place that calls here a couple times a week and leaves messages. I’m pretty sure they’re calling for the guy who used to have our number and wanted to tell them to QUIT CALLING, so I answered the phone.

“Hi Ms. H. This is _____ calling on behalf of police officers in the Minneapolis area. Blah blah blah for two full minutes I can’t let you get a word in or you’ll tell me no so I’m just going to keep talking and not even use punctuation because that would give you the opportunity to shoot me down Our tax refundable donations start at just twenty five dollars but you can be a Gold donor for only thirty so how much may I put you down for Ms. H?”

“Do you have a website?”

“Uh. Um. Well. I…don’ t know what it is.”

“Really? Well, why don’t you call me back when you have that information, okay?”

“Well, ma’am, we can take your donation right over the phone.”

“So…you are calling me and telling me that you are Someone, collecting for Something and I’m just supposed to take your word for it and give you my credit card number - even though you don’t even know the website of the company you are representing?”

“Well, it’s just that I’m talking to YOU right now and…I can get someone to verify this for you…”

“You can get someone else there with you to tell me what you just told me? Impressive.”

“Well, they’re my supervisor…”

“Honey, I am BUSY. Why don’t you get that information and give me a call back when you have it, okay?”

“That sounds fair, ma’am. Thank you.”

Asking for donations is a lot like selling things. Really, you are selling your organization. I wouldn’t buy something from someone who didn’t have any information on their product. I also don’t buy things from telemarketers. Charities need to figure some of these things out if they plan to *sell themselves* to the future generations. Because we're smart, suspicious and critical.

And calling me "ma’am" repeatedly just makes me mad.

Or maybe to you it's "Mrs. Lame?"

2007-08-07T21:31:00.000-06:00

I know I said I'd post pictures yesterday.

I'm going to sum it up with 'it was not a wonderful day.' And then blogger was being a butt last night and not letting me UPLOAD pictures.

I'm working on a thingy because a lot of my family hasn't been told *by me* yet. I will share it when I get it done, I promise. And because I'm ~~lazy~~ nice, I may even leave The Man's real name in the one I post. May...we'll see.

My SIL called this my "First Engagement Picture." At Two Harbors on Sunday (the day I wasn't wearing a dress and didn't have my hair done and had really badly chipped nails - not to be confused with the day we missed our train ride so I could curl my hair and looked beautiful, which was Saturday...the day there were no pictures taken of me), I got all gooney and set up the timer on my camera and after positioning The Man just so, I'd run and try to look 'normal' in the picture. It took lots of pictures. And I hated the way I looked in all of them.

But I share anyway. Because I'm a sharing kind of person.

That's "MRS. H" to you.

2007-08-06T08:40:00.000-06:00

Or, it will be in the next couple years.

I'm shooting for fall of '08, but I've only had a couple days to officially think about it.

I have lots of pictures and stories to share, but a severe time deficiancy.

Tomorrow - pictures for sure.

Because Crazy Hats Rawk

2007-08-03T08:29:00.000-06:00

**Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers for my fellow Minnesotans. It really does mean a lot to have so many people around the world sending their prayers.**

I’m off from my full-time job today, which means I will be working at my other job as maid/referee all day. If I survive the incessant bickering and fighting, The Man and I will be heading out of town for a *romantic* little getaway. And by *romantic* I mean watching Iron Chef in our king sized hotel bed. Ahhh, sweet cable.

My mom uploaded this picture recently and I really wanted to share it. This represents everything great about my childhood. The beach, the houseboat, the Mississppi. My brothers. Crazy hats. Lord, do I miss the crazy hats. Stuff like that just makes life more fun, doesn’t it?

There is the basket of flowers hanging in the background. Every time I see flowers like that, my mind drifts and I see my grandma carefully selecting *this year’s* flower basket to hang on the boat. I see her running out to grab them off the hook when storms came. I can almost smell them in my memory.

The binoculars in our hands suggest we were off an adventure.

That bathing suit had side cut-outs. My grandpa insisted they were cut out so as to make tickling that much easier.

So many beautiful *Eternal Summer* memories. From just one picture.

(Also: Tell me the brother on the right isn't this kid’s dad, I dare you! )

On another note: It's Friday!!! Here are this week’s *Stars*:

*‘Twas Brillig amazes us once again with tales from her extraordinary life. This one is a short, chilling look into her life at twelve years old.

*Goldy told a great story about the crossroads of life.

*Sugar Kane came out of reclusion and showed us all that hearts can be both warmed and broken in 500 words or less. (Also check out Part 2 of this story, which was great as well!)

*Judy from Parents’ GoodyBlog shared an absolutely profound way to get people to stop speeding through your neighborhood.

Have a great weekend. Monday will surely bring numerous photos of lighthouses. If we leave the hotel.

A Tragedy.

2007-08-02T07:49:00.000-06:00

When I see bad things that happen in other states, I worry.

Something happens in Seattle, I call my mom to see if she’s heard from her brother.

Storms in Tennessee, I call my mom to make sure my grandma and aunt have checked in.

I might check out my friends’ blogs if something happens in their area, just to make sure they’re okay.

I only have to check in once, because I just don’t know that many people in those places.

But today…today I sit and wait. I pray nobody I know was affected by the bridge collapse. I pray for those families who are.

Immediate phone calls to family assured me that they are okay. I’m okay. I’ll take The Man’s advice and be thankful for that. But I will continue to pray for the victims and their families. And I will continue to ache every time I see the wreckage, knowing how many lives have been disturbed, though they don’t accurately show how this tragedy has shaken our beautiful city.

Source

I Am Contestant # 756

2007-07-30T12:39:00.000-06:00

I've come close to giving up on entering online contests. A lot of times, I don't want to give out my address if I DO win, so that keeps me from entering. On the (still many) contests that I do enter, I just don't win. But when these impossibly easy contests come up, sometimes they just so happen to be giving away something that is apparently *needed* in my house - I can't help myself - even if the odds are getting close to those of the Powerball (which, I never win, either). The Man has been bugging me for a new TV for some time and doesn't seem to understand that they cost money. Money we don't have. Enter the ladies from 5 Minutes for Mom.

5 Minutes for Mom is having a contest sponsored by Best Buy and are giving away an Insignia® 37″ Flat-Panel LCD HDTV.

Entering is really easy. Just leave them a comment and tell your blog friends about it.

5 Minutes for Mom is a great site, for they are the girls who started the Ultimate Blog Party – which is how I met Kelly, Sugar Kane, Chesca and Mrs. Lady (and maybe other people, my memory sucks).

So if your guy won’t shut the hell up about buying a new flat-panel regardless of your financial status…or you just want to win something, head on over there and comment. But hurry! The contest ends August 17th.

Stars of the Butrfly Garden

2007-07-25T21:07:00.000-06:00

Could I have thought of a lamer title? I think not.

I took the advice of many a while back and switched to Google Reader from bloglines. Google won’t pick up some of the feeds that Bloglines does, so I still use it, just not as much. I’m really loving the Google dashboard. My mail, my blogs, my wikipedia search. My favorite feature so far is the Google Docs. I can write a post at home, upload it to google docs, and post it from work. It lessons the hassle of emailing the document, anyway. And also lets me transfer work docs (like my Paid Time Off spread) so I can see them at home.

I also really like the Google reader. I wish there were a way to save the posts as “new” because sometimes I don’t get the chance to finish them and I end up forgetting to find them and read the rest. (Like this great one from Brillig that I just found!) That bums me out because I usually don’t realize it for a week or so (or two). Google is easier to use than Bloglines for me because it presents it every time I open explorer. I don’t even have to LEAVE igoogle to get my stuff done! That looks a lot better in IT’s eyes. The other thing that makes it superior is the “Star” system they have. Because when a post really grabs me, or I want to share it, I just click the star. Then, on days when I have to get A LOT of work done in a very little time, I can tell my friends:

“Yo, check this:” (Just like that, too!)

Kelly blew me away with two posts this month. The first was an almost enigmatic thought on memories and the second was a little gift for her friends who like to judge.

Worker Mommy said what all us BlogHer-Less girls were really thinking.

Europulp found one of the greatest Craigslist ads I’ve seen in a while. Since the Engineer Robson thing, anyway! (Thanks for that link, Kristina!)

Beth made giggle insanely during a very quiet moment at work with this post.

And Casey has taken to beating old ladies. (Don’t worry, she’s still cool with me.)

I also failed to mention the new extension blog I created! I named it Meme Land. It’s like a retirement home for memes. But we’ll call it “Senior Housing” so they don’t get all crabby about it. To tell you the truth, I just really wanted to make a new design but didn’t want to mess with this one. So go read it. Casey tagged with a meme like ten years ago and that’s on there. Mona tagged me as well and I will get that one on as soon as I can!

Watching Church

2007-07-24T12:19:00.000-06:00

One lazy Sunday afternoon, The Man yelled down to Sunshine, “What are you doing?”

“Just watching church, daddy!” She yelled back.

How great is that? Taking her own precious childhood time to watch church and learn about God on her little Dora TV!

But when he actually went downstairs a short time later, he found her watching Cristina’s Court. “What’s this?” he asked, “I thought you were watching church.”

“I am.” She said.

Lord, I am sorry.

I will take her to a REAL church soon…I will!

**Blog post inspired by Cherann’s Princess-isms**

Busy...

2007-07-18T11:22:00.000-06:00

Again.

Man! This *work* thing is starting to get to me again. Here I thought they were paying me to blog - turns out, this computer was meant for OTHER things. Who Knew?

As a means to entertain you (in a small amount of time), I followed Shauna's lead and got my bliggety blog rated...

Guess that's kind of what I expected. Not too clean, but not to dirty, either. (Like that dirty girl, Shauna, anyway!)

(Did anyone else notice that's a DATING site?)

“This is his wife.”

2007-07-16T08:01:00.000-06:00

“This is his wife.”

That’s a statement I have made way more times than a girl who has never been married should.

See, The Man does not like doing things like, calling people, or writing letters or basically doing anything that requires him to take his own time to speak to someone about something important. Really, it doesn’t even matter how important it is. Electricity? They’ll turn it back on when they get the check, right? Health insurance? Eh, those things don’t show up on your credit report anyway! (LIES.)

The Man and the kids had just moved in with me when Sunshine got sick. Really sick. I don’t remember details, but I know it was bad enough that we had to get her IN to the doctor. The problem we had was that Scari had insurance on Sunshine - because The Man hadn’t added her to his yet (ahem) - through the county. Because she got FREE health care. (And food stamps. And “living” money. Smoke crack, people, it’s the way to the easy life!!) However, Scari was no where to be found - nor was any information about her health insurance.

“Can we just get her in to see the doctor and deal with finding the insurance company LATER, like, when the bill comes?” I asked the receptionist at my clinic of five years.

“You’ll need a deposit if the patient doesn’t have insurance.”

“Oh, but she DOES have insurance, I just can’t find her cards, I think her mom has them.”

“Her MOM? Who is THIS?”

In this moment, I remembered something. They’re not going to tell me ANYTHING. I’d been in this situation before. It gets to the part where they say “And who am I speaking with?” - I say ’girlfriend’ and they tell me to have him call back. Girlfriends hold absolutely no credibility. You can be together for 25 years and know every last freckle on that person’s body - but if you aren’t married, you aren’t important enough to hear their private details.

“Her father’s wife.” I said.

“Oh! Oh, well, here’s what you need to do…”

There was also the time when we got a letter in the mail saying he had written - out of his own, personal account - a bad check to Denny’s. For starters, he hadn’t owned a check book for that account in years. Also, we don’t write checks…especially at restaurants. Denny’s is also not a normal stop for us.

When the thirty days to dispute the bill was nearly over, I finally said, “I’m calling about this! I’m not going to pay out the next time we need a loan because you don’t want to argue!”

So I called.

“Aaaand, who am I speaking with?” asked the cheery southern collection rep.

“Amy H.”

“Oops. We have this account under The Man‘s name.”

“Yes, that’s my husband.” I said confidently.

“But….your name…”

“It’s 2006 and it’s still ‘weird’ for me to keep my last name?” I laughed.

“Oh, no, hahahahaha, I suppose you’re right! Okay, let’s look and see what’s going on here.”

It has gotten much more use over time. On the net, ‘dh’ holds much more credibility with the other wives than ‘bf.’

“Oh! Wu-ell, he’s only, like, my BOYfriend, so, like, I dunno, like, all that stuff. (Heehee.)”

I know that’s what they hear.

Sometimes, it backfires. At work, I often confuse who knows me well enough to know that’s a big fat lie. “My husband said…” “Oh. My. GOOOOOSH! When did you get married!?!??!?” “Oh, well, we didn’t yet….it’s just, uh, easier, you know?”

I get by with it. My wedding will be coming soon enough (is a decade soon?) and I can stop living this horrible lie. I will actually be able to call and use my name and nobody will ever question WHO I am or WHY I would be calling.

While this problem has a solution for me, there are still a lot of people in my situation who’s problems will never be remedied. Loving, caring couples who want to be able to sort out legal documents, health insurance, credit problems - but can’t.

I consider myself a conservative person. I am a Christian. I still can’t - for the LIFE of me - figure out why two men marrying each other would have anything to do with anyone but them. (Although, upon searching for reasons, I found this funny list of reasons why.)

But I’m not really here to push that issue…I want to know, have you ever experienced this? Married women, have you ever felt out of the loop because you WERE married?

Kaizen Crazy

2007-07-13T13:36:00.000-06:00

Have you missed me? Huh? Yeah, I knew you would!

So where have I been? What have I been up to? What could possibly keep me from visiting my dear bloggy friends?

We call it Kaizen and it was…um…fun. Oh, wait, management doesn’t read this! It was long, stressful and frustrating. A whole week of hashing out our current processes to see where we are wasting time and eliminate that waste. I definitely won’t be boring you with those details.

All in all, I’m satisfied – mostly with being DONE with the whole thing – but also because I was actually HEARD. I said, “Well, what about this?” and people actually said, “Yeah, that’s a great idea! Let’s do it!” Instead of the usual, “Yeah, sure, whatever, we’ll see.” It feels SO great to have your ideas not only recognized, but implemented as well.

And now that it’s all over – I don’t even hate the facilitator anymore. She’s an energetic Canadian girl – probably my age. She didn’t really start getting on my nerves until Day 2. When she not only made us stay 12 hours but was a bitch to boot. I declared Tuesday night I wouldn’t be back. I did go back, of course, and got an apology AND was not made to do any of the ridiculous consequences any of the times I was late. Yay for me. I teetered on kind of liking her and wanting to bitch slap her all week. But now, I just want her to go home to Canadia (where we teased her from being from – “What alphabet do you use in Canadia?”) and have a happy life far, far away from our meeting room.

Random notes taken out of my notebook…

“The cologne is overwhelming.” Besides me, there were 14 other people in this meeting. All men - who apparently have no control over how much cologne they use.

“I AM DEAF!” I spent AT LEAST 3 out of the 6 hours we spent walking the manufacturing floor completely oblivious to what was going on because I have a hard time hearing around machines.

“Someone should tell her.” This was written when the facilitator pulled a mini-Janet and nearly exposed her whole boob. For at least twenty minutes, she walked around the room talking – and flashing the goods waiting to finish busting out. I tried to catch her eye and signal her (I WAS the only other woman) – but once she went over the time she said we could go to break, I just let it go. Yeah, I’m a bitch like that. This statement was circled to remind me of the giant rat’s nest in the back of her head. I thought about telling her about that, too. But let it go because it was Tuesday and I hated her. She noticed it YESTERDAY (thanks for coming, don’t bother showering, though!).

As you may be able to tell, it’s been a long week. My work is backed up. My family misses me (aww!). And I am extremely grateful to be done with the whole she-bang.

Next week we will return with our regularly scheduled blogging.

Green Challenge

2007-07-10T05:26:00.000-06:00

Time again for the Green Butrfly Award!

I’ve gotten some great suggestions from you guys! I’m working on checking them all out. But in the meantime, here’s what I’ve found.

The award goes to…

Nestle’s Pure Life water is the water I normally buy. It’s fairly cheap ($3.88/case at Wal-Mart) and they have a “Save the Label” program for schools. I mentioned in the first Green Challenge that getting rid of my water bottle habit is going to be the hardest thing for me. Kelly sent a GREAT suggestion for a water bottle - which I will totally try next time I have something to order from Amazon - but I haven’t gotten it yet. Until I have the opportunity to try that out, Pure Life has found a way to ease my guilt just a little more. They started using 30% less plastic! How do they do it? I don’t know! But that means I’m saving almost a whole bottle a day! It may not change the world, but it’s definitely innovative and a lot more eco-friendly.

The runner up is Annie Chun’s Express Noodle Bowls. This suggestion came from Cherann. The great thing about them is that the bowls are made from biodegradable material. So I wasn’t guilted into washing out the container to recycle (try doing it with lasagna, it’s Fuuuuun!). However, the seasoning, noodles and sauce all came in their own wrappers, and the package itself was wrapped in plastic wrap. That seems kind of counter-productive to me to use that much packaging when your main package is so friendly.

The noodles themselves were alright. I wasn’t fond of the Szechuan kind - but I may not have let it cook long enough. The chow mein would have been a lot better with some veggies thrown in and less sauce (the instructions tell you to add to taste - I used a little with the first kind and a lot with the second - next time, I’ll try to go medium).

They are definitely worth a try - especially for something you can just leave at the office or something.

An honorable mention - because it’s not really eco-friendly but I really want to share it with you - is Peanut Butter & Co’s Dark Chocolate Dreams Natural Peanut Butter. (Hey! It’s ‘natural’ and recyclable!) This stuff is just heavenly. It has LESS calories than JIF (my normal brand) - but costs much more. At my Wal-Mart, it was about $3.00 for a small sized jar (much cheaper than their webstore sells it for!). Try it. But don’t blame me when you eat the whole jar by itself.

Give these products a try and don’t forget to send me your suggestions!

I just can't hang.

2007-07-09T05:24:00.000-06:00

Or so I learned this weekend.

(Note to self: Next time you PLAN to drink, PLAN to drink LESS.)

And because the blogger symbol suddenly disappeared when I was ready to link the slide show, please click HERE to view.

Happy Monday, my peeps.

The Proverbial Glass

2007-07-06T09:55:00.000-06:00

How do you look at life? Are you a ‘glass is still half full” kind of person? A “glass is half empty” person? Or are you a “Who the hell drank my water again?” kind of person?

I’ve always considered myself a realist. I don’t look for ways to improve things. I try not to dwell on the bad. I look at What Is and deal with it appropriately.

Or, at least, I used to.

I’ve really been having a tough time lately. I don’t know if I’m MORE depressed now than I have been in the past…or if it just feels less justified now. It has been a year and nine months. I should be getting back to *normal* by now. Not that I’m always sad – I have plenty of good days. But sometimes, it just doesn’t take much to send me into my dark mood. For example, someone who used to read my blog, I’m not sure if she still does, lost her baby. I didn’t know it for a month. When I found out, I cried. And then when I got home, I cried some more. I have to ask myself “Why?” Why do I feel so involved in the sorrow of someone whom I’ve never met? I think a lot of it has to do with knowing how much it hurts. Knowing how she must feel. And the feelings all come flooding back. I can’t work. I can’t interact with my family. I think that I crossed a line somewhere between empathy and just plain unhealthiness. It’s completely normal to feel sorrow for someone – but not to stop your life because the pain seems like it’s too much to bear. It’s not even my pain, but a reminder of it.

I dwell on it. I let it consume me. I let it dictate my life. I let it define me. I let hover over me and take away my happiness. I get wrapped up in the sadness and let it envelope me and smother me. And I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to be unhappy anymore.

I have to get the sadness out of my life. I have to stop inviting it into my home. Now, I don’t mean that I’m going to ignore when my friends (or acquaintances, co-workers, family) are in pain. I don’t mean that at all. That’s the NORMAL kind of sorrow that we really all need to be able to deal with.

But it’s time for some changes.

I already stopped watching horror movies a long time ago. I have seen so much REAL death in my life – I don’t ever want to see it again – Especially gratuitous death and gore.

But then, every night I watch the news and it makes me cry. Every night someone’s teenager is shot in the city or a baby is found in the river or a teacher is accused of sexual abuse. There’s a war in which people’s children are dying every day. EVERY DAMN DAY. I just can’t take it anymore. So news – as much as I love to yell at your weather people – you’re done for a while. No nightly news at all.

There are the indulgent websites. You know the ones. The addictive, scandalous kind. Where you hear about hundreds – if not thousands – of women hate their husbands. Or husbands who hate their wives. Or the worst – moms who hate their kids. I got involved for a while – but no more. No more entertaining myself with other people’s problems and shortcomings. These sites are fun for some, but they just have too much hate and sadness for my life right now.

Then there are the Internet Throw Downs. What actually spurred these changes (I’m slow) was an argument that ensued at Suburban Turmoil a while back. Lindsay said something to the effect of “I don’t think being a SAHM mom is as hard as being a WOHM mom.” That angered some SAHM’s who don’t think their job is very easy and they said some things. Things which I felt I needed to clarify for them – like the misconception that it’s fun for me to drive two hours a day to spend ten hours with people I really dislike doing a pretty thankless job. But in my “edjumakating” them – I ended up making it very personal and it got into a war of “Who’s life is harder?” Probably three days into it, someone made a comment to the effect of “Is this a contest or something?” And I opened my eyes. I’ve never thought that SAHM’s had it “easy” – I would sure like to be one – but only because I think I would enjoy that job much more than this one. (It does not, however, PAY as well as this one – monetarily, of course.) And there I was, trying to PROVE to these STRANGERS that my life is SOOOO hard. And I felt STUPID, because really, it isn’t. I may not LOVE my job and I may REALLY hate driving here – but that doesn’t mean my life sucks. I spend so much of my free time dwelling on what’s wrong that I don’t get to enjoy the good things.

I think about my mom at my age. When she was 25, she had three kids: 11, 9 and 8. She had to leave us home alone so she could work all day. She sometimes got food stamps to feed us. She was battling alcoholism. We rented all the time - she moved us from place to place – maybe because of money, maybe because of her own demons. A couple times, she bought houses only to have them foreclosed on when she could no longer afford them.

Her life must have been HARD. The Man and I make most of our bills on time. Sometimes things are tight. Sometimes we have a little extra cash to blow. The kids are healthy and we have stable jobs. Jobs, which I might add, that let us get away with a lot. I may not consider this job an ‘escape’ – as I often would like to escape from here – but it’s a pretty cushy job. And they leave me an awful lot of room for slack.

The Man is very guilty of missing the silver lining. He spends most of his time dreaming about what we don’t have and moaning about what we do. We had a long conversation last week and I brought it up to him. “What good is the future if you can’t be happy in the present?” And since that conversation, he’s been (just a little) less reluctant to get out of bed in the morning. He’s been trying hard to be happy with the time we get and stopped complaining (mostly) about the time we don’t get.

I realize this post is getting lengthy and losing focus, so let me reiterate: It’s time to get happy. It’s time to work when work needs to be done and play when the opportunity arises. It’s time to love going home instead of hating to come to work. It’s time to live it up on the weekends and work hard during the week. It’s time to get over the martyr syndrome and accept a little help. It’s time to stop inviting the sadness into my life and start spreading happiness to others. It’s time to stop bitching about everyone else drinking my water and just go fill the cup up myself.

It’s going to take practice, not inviting this stuff into my world, but I think I can do it. And I think it will do both my family and me a lot of good.

Happy Independence Day

2007-07-04T08:03:00.000-06:00

God Bless America.

The Coolest Monday EVER.

2007-07-02T11:04:00.000-06:00

I’d love to tell you all about my weekend, what with all the yard work we did, but that will just have to wait (until yard work becomes interesting) - because I have something to tell you!

You know this post? The one I’m ALWAYS talking about? (I know!) Well, it got some more lovin’ today. The Aweseomest Awesome Person EVER, Brillig, gave me a Perfect Post Award for it. I’m so overcome with joy I can’t even pretend like I’m not. Deep, huh?

Thank you, Brillig! Your readership alone means the moon and the stars to me and here you are telling me YOU LOVE ME, too! (Don’t lie, dear, I know you’re thinking it!)

(Psst…Brill also received a PPA for her “Final Chad” post, but you have to read them all, which you should do.)

And did you know that I rock? Yep, I do! Kelly tagged me for the Rockin’ Girl Blogger meme or button or whatever you want to call it. She was very sweet about it! Most of us know that I tend to murder memes, right? Well, it’s taken me nearly a week to complete this, and in that time, most of these girls (or women, as Kelly would prefer) have gotten tagged, done their job and moved on. If you want to play along, then the rules are to nominate ten girls who blog and rock. If you don’t want to play, or already did – just know that I think you totally rock.

Since most of these ladies make a lot of lists here in The Garden, I've linked to specific posts that make me think they rock. You should check them out.

Brillig
WhiskeyMarie
Casey from Moosh in Indy
Kellyology
Worker Mommy
Walking Kateastrophe
Confessions of a Former Bookworm
Melissavina
hello insomnia
Chesca at skindiving

Rock on, mah rocking blogger chicks. For you rock my world more than you’ll ever know.

As for Makeover Monday, we’ll just say I’m keeping the same goals and I’m doing alright with the last ones…better recap next week!

***Tuesday Update: Ninja Boy is sick today, so I have to run him over to my moms...and then I'll be late for work...and won't have time to blog. But, OMG! Guess what!? Yesterday got even better with a hefty raise from the Bossman - AND I was TOTALLY hit on while on my way home. (Totally.) It was a good day. A good day indeed. Now today, I get to play "Will he throw up in my backseat?" then...I get to call Scari and tell her she can't pick the kids up. Whoo-hoo! I'm going to use the good from yesterday and try to spread it around the rest of my week. That should get me through the sucky parts (like Sunshine crying that NB gets to go to grandma's and she HAAAATES going to the park) Ahh...I'm off, my peeps. Hope you have a great day!!

licensed to ill

2007-06-27T08:04:00.000-06:00

I definitely owe WhiskeyMarie a drink or something after she (along with my strange train of thought) helped me realize that I had not renewed my driver’s license – in the beginning of May – like I was supposed to.

I’m actually not all that surprised that I forgot. I also forgot to renew at 21, too. But then it was because of all the things going on in my life.

The Man and I had been dating off and on for about a year and a half. I was staying at his house full time, watching the kids while he worked. I didn’t have a regular job and he was piss broke so to get money for my own cigarettes, gas – even milk and food for the kids occasionally – I would go to my mom’s and clean for cash.

To put it very simply, we were having problems. His friend, E, was also staying at the apartment - the two-bedroom apartment in which the kids had their own rooms. So we ALL slept in the living room.

My 21st birthday was a complete bomb. Unbeknownst to me, He and E supposedly had a plan to act as though they weren’t going to have a babysitter to take me out then they were going to SURPRISE me later (good idea!). Then I overheard him that afternoon on the phone with Scari, telling her that he was going to a Magic Tournament and asked her to take the kids. I flipped the hell out. Why wouldn’t I? We were already having problems – most of which I blame on the fact that every move he made as a boyfriend was judged and ridiculed by his friend. I was positive that E had convinced him to actually go do something else on my birthday. The really crappy part was that E was once one of my best friends.

Even though I had spent the afternoon being a sobbing, psychotic mess, my friends insisted that I go out. We went to a hole-in-the-wall bowling alley where I didn’t even get carded. I quickly got drunk and made a complete ass out of myself screaming something to the effect of “And none of these losers will even hit on me!!!”

I woke sometime the next day and The Man and E said they were headed up north overnight to party with E’s sister and her friends. And I wasn’t invited.

After he left, I packed all my stuff and took it to my car.

Then I went back up and played “Three Libras” by A Perfect Circle over and over while I poured my heart out in a three-page letter. I talked about how I’d given him all of me and all I got in return is neglect and coldness. How I’d given up my life to care for his kids and he wouldn’t even make Scari use a car seat (Sunshine was only 2!). How I put all my emotion and love into him and I’d finally realized I would never get it back. And just to be nice, I’d leave the vacuum my mom borrowed us until he got a new one. Fittingly enough, he returned Mother’s Day to find my note.

I moved back into my mom’s. I spent the entire next day crying with PM. We’d decided that if he was really worth all my tears and suffering, and love, that he would call me after we had a little cool down time.

Instead, I got a call from another friend. “Who’s that bitch that answered The Man’s phone?” she asked. “I just called there and it didn’t sound like you, so I asked, ‘Is Amy there?’ and she yelled ‘NO!’ and hung up.”

That mother fucker.

I called his house and it was Scari. “Where’s The Man?” I demanded.

“None of your business.” She laughed, then hung up.

I called over to our mutual friend’s house and the wife said he was over playing Magic.

“You have a lot of nerve, you selfish prick! How the fuck could you have her over there THE DAY AFTER I LEFT!?!?!?!” I screamed into the phone after she’d given it to him.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” He coolly replied.

“Well, I’ll tell you what – I’ll be there tomorrow morning to get my vacuum, you can talk to me about it then – and if that bitch is there I’m going to kick her fucking ass.”

“Whatever,” he said and hung up.

The next morning, I looked HOT. I had my big boots on, a totally booby shirt, my tight jeans. I wanted to make him miss me! I scanned the parking lot for Scari’s car and was pleased to not see it – that meant we’d actually be able to talk. So PM waited in the car.

When he met me halfway down the apartment staircase, I knew - I was wrong. “She’s here, isn’t she?” I said with a devilish grin and a twinkle in my eye that few people have seen. It was on.

I darted up the stairs and through the apartment door. She was drying her hair in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

I could feel The Man directly behind me, but I didn’t stop. I ran as fast as I could and wound up my arm on the way there. Almost simultaneously, my fist made contact with her head and The Man grabbed me from behind and threw me on the ground. Or at least that’s what he meant to do. He really threw me into a doorjamb, then onto the floor. He held me down as I glared into his eyes and told him what a loser he was for doing what he did to me. He told me to get out and never come back. “Like I would come back you fucking loser!!!” I screamed from the street.

I hopped into the car and peeled off, “Are they going to call the cops!?” PM shrieked.

“Like they would – she’s a crackhead and E’s got a warrant….wait…where’s E? And her car?”

At that moment, we met E coming out of a fast food parking lot. The look on his face when he caught my glare can only be described as “Oh, Shit!”

I rode his bumper the whole way back to the apartment parking lot. It was stupid, but I knew he didn’t have a license – plus he was “Wanted” – and she didn’t have insurance. What could they do?

I gave up trying to – I don’t know – scare E. And went straight down the highway to home. It was at that moment that I realized that both my vehicle tabs and my driver’s license were expired. “Do they know that?” PM asked.

Just to be safe, I headed straight to the license center. In all my hotness, with adrenaline still pumping hard through my veins, and a smug “Yeah, I hit that bitch” look on my face – I had my picture taken. And I couldn’t have asked for a better one…

This would also explain why I conveniently forgot to renew this time. That weight? I changed that when I moved. I was not 140 in that picture. I am also not 140 now – but it goes the other way. I think I might have forgotten how to apply my “Sexy Face” (aka makeup). I was definitely hit with a case of The Uglies this morning. I’ll get over it. It’s only four years with the next picture. I have also started planning a scheme to delete my new picture from the database if it turns out really bad. Anyone out there with hacking capabilities?

Also, don’t be too hard on The Man. We got past it (obviously) and while it sure wasn’t the first time we’d broken up…it was the last. I’ll tell you about that another time – including what happened to me afterward. ;)

**Updated 7-27-07...I've had a couple people ask, so I will oblige you with the new picture. It is not nearly as great as the last one, but not so bad I won't put it online. ;)

I was really mad this time, too, but not the same kind of mad. Not the Sexy Mad. Okay, really over it now.

How Special

2007-06-26T09:40:00.000-06:00

Yet another reason Ninja Boy won’t be allowed to watch professional wresting:

WWE wrester Chris Benoit, his wife and seven year old son were found dead in their Atlanta home Monday afternoon after an apparent murder-suicide. (Article.)

To HONOR Benoit, WWE cancelled Monday Night Raw and USA aired a THREE HOUR TRIBUTE to Benoit.

A TRIBUTE.

I would like to think that it was a quick decision made by a higher up who was just too darned busy to think that maybe Benoit was responsible.

But let’s look at the facts: a 220 pound professional wrestler cancels appearances citing “family emergencies,” then is found dead with his family (he was in a separate room) with two giant German Shepard guard dogs roaming the property.

I just don’t think I could have assumed anything other than “BENOIT WAS A PSYCHO.” I definitely would NOT have run a *special* to *honor* him.

Sorry to any wrestling fans out there – but THIS is what is wrong with our country! “Yeah, he did murder his wife and his SEVEN YEAR OLD boy, but he was a really good WRESTLER and we should HONOR him.”

Please.

Save the honor for those who DESERVE it!

Update: Lest you think I was being too harsh...