Pool's open!!!

This past weekend, Steve got the pool ready. The kids have been so excited... they were at their Dad's this weekend, but called to get periodic updates as to the status of the pool. They just couldn't wait to get home from school so they could hop in. Now, the water temperature is only about 73 degrees... no way I'm gettin' in there... but it doesn't phase them, as I've mentioned before.

Mic's birthday is tomorrow and we are having his party this Saturday. Swimming is one of the activities on the menu, along with a Jupiter Jump (or Bouncy Castle for you Brit readers). Pool will be good and broken in by then, as it's almost impossible to keep the kids, especially Mac, out of it once it's up and running for the season.

I broke out the camera just a bit too late to catch Mic... he's like his Mother... temperature has to be darn near pushing 80 before it's even bearable. So, as I snapped these shots, he was inside, cozy and dressed, but still shivering!!

My little fish... (isn't she just gorgeous???)






The Diva and I went shopping this afternoon to get her a new swimsuit. She really thinks she's *it* because she has a suit that shows her back!!! When I was snapping these pictures she was extremely angry at something (sometimes I just give up trying to figure out what, exactly, has made her mad)... but she stopped, mid-tears, to model the new suit...





See, I told ya... *Diva*

Happy Swimming!!!!

sickening sweet

So, I've posted before about my adoring hubby. Probably enough to give anyone a cavity. I know, sick, isn't it. Don't get me wrong, he's not perfect... well, to anyone else but me I suppose. To give you but a small example of his indiscretions... as I we sit here, out on the patio in the perfect furniture my perfect husband made with his perfect hands, he's next to me, laptop in tow passing gas. Yep, folks, he *is* normal. Now, I'll probably pay for that... putting it out there in 'cyber-world' that he farts. Probably pay bigtime. That's ok... I'll just remind him of the amazing foot rub he got while we were catching up on "Grey's Anatomy" an hour ago. (for those who know me, yes, I said *foot* rub... that's how much I love him. for those who don't know me... I should mention that I DON'T DO FEET. ew.)

Over Spring Break, the kids and I planted sunflower seeds. We each got our own little seedling tray with 8 tiny pots. Mic and Nat got greedy, putting two seeds in each of their pots, while Mac and I just put one seed per square. We labeled the trays, each of the kids, then Steve and I shared ours. A few weeks later, voila! We had plants. We all thought it was pretty cool, even though Mic and Nat's trays were heaving compared to the rest of ours'.

Anyway, we picked the best four plants, one from each tray. Planted all four into a very large terracotta patio planter to sit and wait for us to get off our lazy bums and prepare a place in the yard for them to be permanently transplanted. The plants themselves are looking a bit peckish these days... they've definitely kept growing, almost two feet tall, each of them. But they look a tad 'ill'... Steve suspects they may be diseased or bug infested, but we're going to go ahead and give it a shot.

So, we're surveying the yard, shovel in hand (him) today, wondering where to plant the four (six if you count the two-per-pot cheaters). Steve finds a spot and starts digging. He had to put quite a bit of effort and work into getting the (approximately) four foot by two foot patch of earth dug up. A LOT of work. I tried, but I had my rubber shoes on and they just weren't up for the job (far be it for me to go inside and actually change them!). So, he continues until the ground is just right to accept the sunflower plants that will probably die, anyway.

I'm watching him do this, all the while thinking... he's going to all this hard work and trouble just for the kids (and me). He loves seeing their little eyes light up with amazement at nature's work, and he's making a canvas for which they will observe this.

So, the next time (although, there hasn't really been a first, has there?) I blog to bitch about him, as I'm sure I will (after all, isn't that what all good wives who blog do?)... I must remind myself to look back on this post and remember what he's really about :)

White Shirt WARNING

Ok... I should probably put a disclaimer here and describe my 4-year-old to you, my N, a.k.a. "The Diva". I'll leave that for you to discern from the flavor of previous and yet-to-come posts. You're probably saying something along the lines of "Yeah, well, she hasn't seen MY 4-year-old"... I know, I know... most of us have 'em... heck, we've had four before her... and yes, preschoolers can be monsters. But, you don't know The Diva!!!

We had pizza for dinner the other night. After a serious pre-soak and a good washing, this is what her shirt looks like (can you tell which hand she eats with?)...



(disclaimer #2: after previewing this post... this picture doesn't do it justice!!!)

Know what she said to me when I asked her why on earth she would do that to her shirt? "Well, Mommy, you should have given me a napkin!" Little stinker! (by the way, the napkin I *did* give her was found under her chair after dinner)

Off to buy Clorox...

the purpose of blogs

So, now that I'm off and running with this blog thing, I've recently been thinking about it's purpose. Or, rather, my purpose for starting it.

Why do people blog? I'd venture to say that a few do it simply because it's the thing to do, at the moment. I'll take that. Some do it because they've seen others do it and enjoy doing it, so they, too, want to see what all the fuss is about. I'll take some of that one, too. Some people blog because their lives are actually that interesting, or they have something to say that is genuinely worth reading. Nah... boring life here, and I've never thought of myself as a very eloquent writer... so, don't put me down for that one.

Which leads me to think that some people really just need to 'get it out'. To have a place where they can put their feelings, thoughts, plots, etc... Especially when something is really icky, or eating away at you... I can completely see that. Putting it down on paper, or, in today's world, that could translate to blogging it... gets it out of your head. I've personally experienced that one, although, I'm not so sure I'd file that one under my reason for blogging.

I'd certainly love a place to put it all, but would I then turn around and not only tell people about it, but actually point them in the direction of said blog? Hell no. If I'm going to put it all out, I'm going to do it completely and totally anonymously... nobody, I mean nobody, is going to know it's me.

A friend of mine said that she thought of starting a blog for just that reason. She's bearing a pretty heavy weight on her shoulders right now, and just needs a place to let it all out. However, there could be a real danger if the wrong people got word of this place... she could very well risk relationships and people who are very close to her. So, what does she do? Well, to answer for her specifically, although, that was really a general question... she didn't do anything. She didn't get a place to put it all out. Rather, she, like others, started a blog, yet continues to write with that 'filter' in place. The 'I know people are reading this so I have to be careful of what I put down in case (enter name here) reads this' filter. C'mon, we all have 'em. Even my husband, who generally comes from the school of "if they don't like what I type, then they don't have to read it", which, I may add, I subscribe to... for everyone but myself. He thinks about what he writes before he publishes it. Probably to a lesser degree than me, but, still, he does it nonetheless.

So, is there a way of truly remaining anonymous? I'm sure it's possible. Haven't really investigated it that much. I'm sure there are thousands who do on a daily basis.

Just not me. Yet.

cheezy mood

Just had a wonderful dinner with my husband. It's our weekend off (kids are at their Dad's). We had the most delicious steak (ty, you know who you are :D ) dinner, accompanied by a bottle of wine. I should mention here that we don't drink much, at all. Especially with the amount and type of medication I'm on for pain management. So, one bottle of wine between the two of us is plenty. And just enough to make us fall in love with the world... hence the 'cheezy mood' :)

We're sitting here on a Friday night, just the two of us. Singing karaoke... yes karaoke. We LOVE singing. I've coined my dear husband the "Karaoke Slut" and he wears that badge with honor (he really does!). Silly us. We have so much fun together. He's currently singing "My Sweet Lord"... I just finished "My Give A Damn's Busted"... patiently waiting my next turn... he has a bad habit of 'hitting the wrong button for the rotation and 'accidentally' skipping me... see... KARAOKE SLUT!!!!! We always have a laugh, though.

I love that about him... we just know how to have fun together. He put the swimming pool up today. It's crystal clear, all chemicals in and ready and waiting. Except the water temperature is a balmy 68. ARGH!!! No way am I getting in there!!! It has to be at least 80 for me, and that is even chilly. I prefer upper 80s, approaching 90. I'm spoiled. And I really need a hot tub!

Just paused to sing, Dixie Chics "Let 'er Rip"... LOVE that song... I just wish I could sing :p See, he has justification for being called the "Karaoke Slut"... me, not so much.

Back to the pool... Mac will no doubt hop in straight after school on Monday. She doesn't care if she has to cut a circle in ice! That girl would swim in the dead of winter if she could. Reminder: must check Mac for fins!

So, cheezy mood... I feel it's only appropriate to pop in a cheezy pic...

I love my kids... we often get cheezy together, and have pics to document...

a PROUD ramble

Two of my kids are in school. Mac is in second grade, Mic in kindergarten. The Diva, aka N, stays home with Steve, keeping him squarely in order. As an aside, I just live for the stories recapping the days' events experienced by Steve and Diva. I'll start posting them, as they are shared by both... sometimes, their renditions differ a bit.

Today, Mic was 'honored' in an assembly as a 'Knight-in-Training'. I won't go into the history of the ceremony, but it's not unlike a 'student-of-the-month' honor. Now, as crunch time approached, we were beginning to get the feeling that neither kid would be knighted this school year. Mac got it last year, and she is the one it's easy to assume will get it. She's a wonderful student, very exceptional academically (not at all biased, here, am I?) and just generally one of those kids you'd expect to excel and receive associated honors. Much to my disappointment, she didn't get it at all this year :( We're sad about that, but... life goes on. Can't have everything, and what an opportunity to teach some (I'm sure) very poignant life lesson... although, right now, we're just going to wallow in our sorrow... I'll teach the life lesson later, I promise!

So, I get an email from Mic's teacher the other day. Let me add here, that we really weren't at all surprised that it didn't look like he'd get knighted. This is, after all, the kid who trips other kids, nose dives into the teacher's desk so as to get to a flying crayon first (a crayon for which I'm *sure* he was responsible for the flight), plays wadded-up-paper football after he's been clearly instructed not to. Just general 'boy' stuff... he's really a great kid. He has the gentlest heart, the kindest spirit... he's just ornery! And, I should mention, adorable!!!!

So, as I was saying, not really expecting that he would get knighted this year, and really not that bothered. Email comes from his teacher, which emails come from her often... usually to report the 'behavior' du jour. I open these very carefully, as I'm sure you can imagine. To my surprise, she tells me that she has chosen Mic to be her knight for the month of May. Shocked doesn't even begin to describe it. She goes on to tell me that she was just waiting for the right Life Skills to come up that fit him to knight him. What are the Life Skills, you ask??? Perseverance and Sense of Humor. BINGO!!!!! Lucky little devil!!!

I'm so proud of him... for lots of things, but today, particularly, for being a Knight-in-Training for the Life Skills of Perseverance and Sense of Humor


(mine's the one in the lime-green and navy striped shirt, next to the 'Knight')


We are so proud of you, buddy!!! Way to go!!!!! I love you!

Sad.

Wow, what a difference a day makes. I did actually post that 'happy' post last night. And I meant every word of it. But, a few hours later, I wasn't so happy, so I took it down. I didn't want one happy thing representing yesterday. Because in a moment, it all came crashing down.

Not to worry... this is a 'funk' I've visited many times before, and unfortunately, I'm sure I'll visit many times to come. And just like every other time I've delved deep into the armpit of this 'situational' depression, I'll eventually come out of it. Sometimes sooner, sometimes later. I'm holding out for sooner, but fully prepared for later.

Some things are just too deeply personal to put out there on the world wide web for all to see. This would be one of those things. I won't go into any details, now or ever. But there's something about this place I seem to insist on visiting every so often that I just don't get.

I consider myself relatively intelligent. I managed to get a college education under my belt. Didn't do too bad academically. I like to think I have common sense.. at times, greater than average... sometimes, not so much. But, on balance, I 'get it'... ditsy, dense, dingy... don't think any of those words have ever been used to describe me, at least not to my knowledge.

All of that being said... can someone, anyone, please tell me, or at least *try* to explain to me, why, just *why*, when I'm equipped with a fully functioning brain, do I get such a twisted perspective on something that my own logic tells me is messed up??? Not only do I have said perspective, but I allow it to permeate every single fiber of my being. I don't give it permission, in fact, I tell it to go to hell. But it doesn't listen. Ever. And it's so predictable... as predictable as N's bedtime routine.

I'll try to explain... something happens (or doesn't happen)... I *know* what it means when it happens or doesn't happen... pretty basic, really... nothing 'hidden' or to be implied. It just is what it is. Scenario one: something happens: instead of just taking it for what it is, possibly, even garnering a bit of enjoyment from it, I insist over and over on picking it to pieces... pulling it apart like the layers of an onion, scribing my inaccurate perspective on every single layer, every single cell. And *then* it becomes what I have made it... it isn't any longer what it was... it's what I've created in my mind. Scenario two: something doesn't happen: instead of just carrying on and staying happy, I start peeling that onion again. Scribing, yet again, this perspective that I've come to coddle onto every single layer. Lather, rinse, repeat. Yes, time and painful time again, I do the *same* thing over and over.

I once heard that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting different results. That is me. Insane. So, why? I have the knowledge, I have the foresight, I have the logic. I *know* what's going to happen... hell, I could write the script now. And the script never changes.

What I need to understand, figure out, *get*... is how, how on earth do you change your perspective? When it becomes so ingrained that you now actually believe it to be truth, yet you *know* it isn't? How? Self-talk doesn't work. As I go through the motions, I say the same things over and over. I don't listen.

And I'm tired. So very tired. I want something new to worry about. I want this weight off of my shoulders. I want to feel free from it. I want to be truly happy. I want to stop giving into the demon that is my perspective. I want to take back control. I want to take back power, to feel powerful... not powerless. I just don't like feeling sad.



Addendum (5/17/07) Thank all of you for your concern. I feel kinda bad, because I'm realizing that this post probably conveyed a much more serious level of 'depression' than I had intended. Please, I don't want any of you to worry about me. I'm fine, really. There's just this *thing* that won't go away, that always makes me feel yucky when it rears it's ugly head. That's all. It doesn't overtake me. Life goes on. I'm quite sure the people I work with don't even notice a difference when it's around. I work very closely with several people, who would definitely know. And, I work in a field where if clinical depression were suspected, trust me, it would *not* go unmentioned. So, again, your concern has been overwhelming... and from the bottom of my heart, Thank You!