Potty Mouth

Today was a frantic day for my family. Okay, I'm lying through my teeth right now. It was a frantic and traumatic day for me... and miss Abbi.

We started our day at 5am... sorta. I hit snooze, after waking up and realizing the baby was snuggled up against me as close as he could possibly be. He had teetered in at some point during the night, and I hadn't even noticed. What a love. I couldn't move. I just laid there. Now, whether I actually wanted to snuggle with the baby at 5am, or just use that as an excuse to sleep 5 more minutes, I can't tell. I know, but I won't tell you... :P

That brings me to the wake-up. I hopped out of bed.. literally, because at some point a giant semi (toy) also teetered into our bedroom and plopped it's big square very-hard-plastic ass onto the floor right where I step to get out of bed in the mornings.

Thankfully I had gotten my shower the night before, after my husband graciously made my roots the color they were meant to be... red... not the blonde God graced me with. I'm still a bit peeved at him for making me a natural blonde. It SO doesn't go with my skin tone. We'll have a talk once I get up there to meet him... Lord willing.

Anyway, I still felt rather clean from the shower I had taken last night, so I threw on my scrubs, added a few curls to the fro and painted my face. Not bad for 5:30am, I suppose.

I then packed myself some healthy goodies for work, filled 3 sippies, threw some diapers in the make-shift diaper bag (I finally threw away the lovely pale pink designer-knockoff bag Joel preferred :P) and tip-toed back to wake the lovies up.

Aiden was first. He popped out of bed like he had just realized his sheets were either frozen or on fire. He immediately went out to the living room. I turned on the light, and he gave me an evil little stare. "Mommy, this is WAY too early." "Join the club Aiden... this is how Mommy & Daddy feel every weekend day." Note to self: Tomorrow, wake Aiden up by screaming in his ear.

Abbi was next. She was a little slower than Aiden, but she knew what she had to look forward to (and fear) for the day, so she hobbled out to the living room, too. She had a mini-tantrum over her dress (too many buttons... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh), but she recovered quite nicely. So I went to wake up the baby.

I shook him a little... not in a baby-shaking syndrome way... in a loving, get-the-hell-up kinda way. He turned over onto his belly, snoring happily. I jiggled his cute little baby leg. He sat up pissed. He started whining and I had to giggle. This was payback.

The getting-out-the-door process went rather smoothly, and we were on the road by 6:15am... off to Papa's house. The drop-off was drama free. The kids love Papa. They even got to see Mama for a quick minute before she left for work.

I got to work and fretted all morning... stomach ache, nausea... I thought I could seriously vomit. But I didn't. At 8:35am on the nose, I left work and met the kids & Papa at the church. First day of VBS. First day I've ever dropped my babies off ANYWHERE and left them. Sure, the grandparents watch them and we have a couple of very trust-worthy friends who have babysit, but this was entirely different.

As soon as we got to the church Abbi was in full-blown OCD mode. I wanted to cry. We registered. She asked me where the bathroom is. We got name tags. She asked me where the bathroom is. We met the teacher's helper. She asked me where the bathroom is. We showed her to her mat. She asked me where the bathroom is.

You see, Abbi did not have to pee. She has a major issue with potties. She must know where they are, how the door closes, who will take her, if she is strong enough to open the door & if it is just 'kinda loud' or 'really loud' when the potty flushes. Preschool starts in a few weeks, and this has been her main concern. The potty.

The teacher (who will also be her preschool teacher) helped to calm Abbi down. This whole time Aiden was being a champ. He was excited.

The teacher's helper showed us to the restroom. Abbi was satisfied after the teacher's helper promised her that if she had to pee, she would show her to the bathroom. Mission #1 accomplished.

Mission #2? Will Abbi be picked up. Mind you, we have never left our kids. We would never leave our kids and the fear Abbi has about us leaving her is extremely real and a bit odd to me. I assured her over and over and over and over again that Papa would be there to pick she & Aiden up at noon. I imagine she asked her teacher the same question 50,000,000 times throughout the day.

I told the teacher on the way out I was going to go cry. Abbi stared at me but didn't start throwing a fit or sobbing. I would cry enough for the both of us...

So I got back to work and had to auto-pilot myself through the morning. My stomach was REALLY aching at this point. I was shaky. I was a MESS waiting for noon to come. I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait to call Papa and find out if the kids had done okay. I had lots of faith in Mr. Aiden. I prayed I wouldn't get a phone call about Abbi. I didn't.

Noon came and went. I waited til 12:30 to call, so I could talk to the kids too. Joel called me at one point and I panicked. I just knew something was wrong. Nothing was.

The kids were SOOOOO excited when I talked to them! They had a fabulous time! I'm pretty sure they didn't even miss me, which makes me want to shout from the rooftops and cry profusely all at once. Day one done, 4 more to go.

VBS was the topic of the night... all we heard about. Logan is a bit too young to go, so he stayed with his Papa all day. He probably loved the attention. Trying to fight for attention when you don't say much, and have twin crazy children as your siblings, must suck.

Tonight we drove into town. One of the kids' favorite things to do is to go through the car wash. We save this for special occasions (I almost said rainy days, but that wouldn't be appropriate) and cabin-fever days. The van gets washed about once every couple of months. (Seriously, it was eight freakin' dollars and it didn't even BLOW DRY the damn van! RIP I tell ya!)

We're driving through (it was nearly dark and it WAS dark inside the car wash) and the baby just started WAILING. Big old sick-cow wails... seriously, he sounded like a wounded animal. From his perspective, I could see why he was so outrageously scared. Tiny Logan (alright he's not all that tiny, but compared to me he's an ant) versus the big car wash machines. I felt for him.

On our way home I couldn't help but think about the scary things in life. If we fear things as adults, can you imagine how small children feel? The world is HUGE to us, which makes it GIGANOURMAMUNDUS to them. We stopped for a train, and I realized how scary a train could be. I just prayed that if it derailed, it would derail off the other side of the track. Trains = Scary.

We got home and Abbi pointed at a giant bug on the wall. She called me over, and it was a GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito. GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito = Terrifying.

See what I'm getting at? Life is full of fear. We spend hours a day avoiding them, making people feel better about them, facing them & beating them. I just pray the train doesn't derail, the mosquito doesn't suck our blood and the toilet doesn't suck our asses down with it.

Life is damn scary. We'll never get out of it alive.

It's not worth worrying about. That's just how it is.

The end = Petrifying.

Pink Casket & Denis Leary Sitting on my Desk

Happiness comes in small doses folks. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate chip cookie or a five second orgasm. You cum, you smoke the butt, you eat the cookie, you go to sleep, wake up and go back to fucking work the next morning, THAT'S IT! End of fucking list! -Denis Leary

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0248752/quotes

I tend to agree with Denis (about everything really). Happiness truly does come in small doses. I normally wouldn't drop an F-bomb in my blog, but hey! It's a quote... I didn't say it... Denis did :D

I am so utterly excited about several things right now!

1) We move into our new house September 1st. Bigger house, bigger yard, a sun room with skylights (I believe this will become my new happy place), closer to work (sorry Joel... further for you), kid-friendly neighborhood, buying rather than renting & a full basement to banish the kids to (do NOT call CPS... this is a JOKE :)

2) My babies start preschool this year. This makes me jerk with tears and giggle with happiness! On one hand, I am losing my lovies. They won't need me anymore. They are already shunning hand-holding and insist on scooping their own food onto their big-people plates. It makes me teary thinking about it. On the other hand, we are THAT much closer to 18 and freedom. NO I'm not trying to get rid of my kids... but it's good to have things to look forward to. As you roll your eyes, you know you're secretly agreeing with me.

3) Vegas! I'm going to Las Vegas in October with girl friends from work. OMG! The excited feeling I get when I think about Vegas is over-the-top, out-of-control, higher-than-any-illegal-drug CRAZY happy! We are on a strict budget due to the fact that I am not happy with ONLY a new home, but I also need a VACATION. Viva Las Vegas Baby!

4) The Beach! I don't know when. I don't know how. I don't know why, but I LOVE THE BEACH! The beach is literally my very favorite place in the world. I have many, many places I want to visit (and yes, I will see all of them cause my Bucket List says so), but the beach will, to me, will always be the most beautiful place in the world. And I'm not talking about a beach on the Scioto River... I'm talking about the OCEAN! The ocean people! I'm tellin' ya.... I love it! If I could fondle it and grope it I would! It's just that damn irresistible.

5) Vacation Bible School. Yep, I realize I'm a curser. I love it. That's one of those small things that makes me happy. Foul language. I have an English friend who curses like a sailor (do you know how much I wanted to add an F-bomb there?), and it cracks me the hell up! The thing is, my kids are going to be hanging out with other cool kids (and some bullying twit-peeps, I'm sure) next week at VBS... this is the first event where we will be dropping them off & leaving them. They are so excited, and Mom is too... I'll cry that entire week. Bang boom badalada... just give me narcotics, cause I'll be a weeping willow tree the whole freakin' week. Double my meds. That's what I'll do.

6) The beach in my new house! I will be decorating our new sun room in beach decor. Know what that means? I can go to the beach every damn day! Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah Nah! I'm thinking of sand instead of carpet... and a big tank people can swim in. Hmmmmmm.... brb... calling the decorator now.
Damn, he told me I was crazy... back to square one.

So moving on, if you were to see me on an every day basis, you would realize that the smallest things in the world amuse me! Here are some of those things:

1) The copy machine at work, get this, STAPLES and SORTS! It's freakin' awesome!

2) The coffee pot, get this, can be PRE-SET! So when I wake up in the morning, my coffee can be sitting there ready to burn my tongue! It's fabulous!

3) We aren't even close to being to the end of the 22 episodes of Rescue Me this season! Just this show alone could make me run after rainbows & find the end & drop kick a martial artist with the adrenaline alone.

4) My new house has a 4-car garage! I don't even own that many cars. In all honesty I don't even own one of my vehicles. The van still has many moons of payments on it, and the car is Dad's. I'm 30. It's good to have the bills paid :P

5) Budgeting to go to Vegas, go to the annual craft show (hey, I buy Christmas gifts there!) and buy a new house... even if it means we eat rice, bread, soup beans and corn from the field for the next few months :P

6) My computer at work has an absolutely amazing picture of Denis Leary on it, and my screen saver is Rescue Me. I say goodnight to Denis before I leave work. He loves me.

7) Good hair days. If my head is full of curly-cues and they are all over the damn place, I'm fanatically happy! If it's straight, dull and blah, the happy level is kicked down a notch. I'll stick with the kinks ;)

8) Catalogs! Oh my God, give me a catalog and I'm on cloud 9! Put me to bed, give me a stack of catalogs, a 6-pack of Down Home Punch, a telephone and a credit card with a fabulous limit, and I'm in heaven! I'm not high-maintenance at all. I just happen to like stuff, money and booze.

9) When I am caught up on paperwork, I literally think my co-workers should throw me a party, buy me a male stripper and have him feed me strawberries of the chocolate-covered variety. I like to be praised. And I like to be praised well. :P

10) Turning 30. Yes, I turn 30 in December. December 1st actually. I expect gifts... and a surprise party. Please? I act like I dread 30, but I really just want all the attention attached to it. Didn't you know? I like to be the center of attention... I want people to remember me when I'm gone. Oh, and I want a pink casket, so anyone who is still alive when I kick it, help me out with that. i also want Gavin DeGraw to sing at my funeral. See, even my funeral excites me!!!!!!

I have to tell you... it's good to be delusional. It's good to be amused by the teeny tiny perks in life. As I've said before, my thought process may not be healthy, but I'm happy, and that's all that really matters. Oh, that & my kids... I like them to be happy occasionally too.

Pink Casket! Don't forget...

Dragging Cats & Missing Appendages

I hate driving. I truly do. I take that back... I like driving to and from work only. I love listening to my music at illegal volumes, singing even louder & tuning out everything that is evil... including my cell phone.

I'm also not much of a phone person. I have a select few people I enjoy talking to on the phone. Other than that, I screen. I don't mean to be a screener... I know it's quite rude, but know in advance... if you call me, there is a good chance I'll look at my caller ID and put my phone down, emptily promising myself to call you later.

Now if you text me, I'll most-likely answer. I wish all of the calls I get at work could just arrive in text form. For such a social person, I sure do enjoy technology! I'd rather see your face when we talk to me... or just not talk at all. It's not you, it's me. And it has nothing to do with how much I like you, or how interesting you come across on the phone... well, actually it has everything to do with that, but I wouldn't want to hurt any feelings here.

Back to driving... I have hit several mailboxes in my day. Luckily they weren't too badly injured, and I drive pretty much the same, even though I no longer have a passenger side mirror, due to my love for touching mailboxes with my rear views. I truly don't miss it. For a while, I left it hanging there, cracked & broken, whipping in the wind. One day I was guilt-stricken. I felt like an evil cat hitter dragging the cat at high speeds down a busy highway, while people called 911 to report mirror/cat abuse. I couldn't afford jail time and my conscious couldn't take it, so now I'm just completely mirrorless on that side. It's sort of like having one ear, one breast or one eye... you have to work a little harder to do every day things (such as cut people off) but in the long run, we become stronger people because of it.

You see, in the rearview mirror of life, you may see things differently than you would if they were in front of you. For instance, if a mailbox hit me, I may think twice about driving too closely to the right side of the road. If I called God and he checked his caller ID only to promise to call me later, I may be more apt to answer my phone. My running into mailboxes has taught me a lot. I will now be writing a book... "Everything I've Learned in This Life I've Learned from Hitting Mailboxes"...

It's the smallest events in life which teach us the biggest lessons.

-Kelly ;)

Puffy Clouds and My Love of Stuff

Quote of the Day:

There must be more to life than having everything! Because where would you put it all!

I like stuff. Lots & lots of stuff. I don't like to have clutter. I like everything to be neatly put away - or at least thrown into closets and rooms not viewable by others.

When I buy new uniforms, I wash them all so I can see my dozens of pretty scrub outfits hanging in a row. I have several pairs of shoes to match them as well. I'm a 'stuff' person. I love jewelry and books, my computer and gifts.

I don't particularly want to be this into stuff. I just am.

I do appreciate the free pleasures in life, too. Family, friends, the beach, etc. I don't let my love for my favorite stuff overshadow my love for natural and beautiful non-stuff.

I realize that when I die I can't take stuff. I do like to believe that God makes Heaven our own, and I may have a big screen TV with endless new episodes of Rescue Me, while Denis Leary and I sit together on our puffy cloud and watch each and every episode while eating Chinese food and 7-layer cake, all the while not gaining an ounce of weight, because food in Heaven has absolutely no calories, and people that get through those beautiful gates are granted pecks and guns as they cross the magnificent threshold.

My whole point in this babble of a blog is to tell you that while stuff is often the source of my amusement and happy-go-luckiness, it is not the source of my contentedness and happiness.

Stuff just can't do that.

My Own Worst Enemy

At this very moment I should be in bed. It's 12:31am and, once again, I will be waking up tired tomorrow. Okay, I'm tired whether I have had 4 hours of sleep, or 10. I just love sleep. It makes me happy.... along with fancy coffee, flip-flops (or slip-slops as my Abbi calls them), Denis Leary and my family & friends, not in that order.

I have come to the realization that I am my own worst enemy. I will often tell a resident at work how pretty she looks, or how nice he looks in his new shirt. I often get the replies, "Oh, I'm so old... I'm not pretty", and they shrug me off with a chuckle. I always tell them that they are their own worst critic. WOW, I've never put MYSELF in that position before. Sure, I receive compliments now and again, but do I accept them with a simple "thank you" and move on throughout my day, a little spark in my step from their nice words? Hell No! I pick it apart, and wonder if they were just sucking up... to the point where I don't even enjoy it. Huh... I guess I should practice what I preach...

I am genuinely a nice person. When I tell someone they look nice, I mean it. As I've mentioned before, I see the good in people. The bad sneaks in every now & then, but that is just being realistic. I often wonder what people truly think of me? I won the award for the "Happiest Employee" at work last year. I wonder if that's how people see me... as "happy"? Most generally I am. I like to think people believe I have a kind spirit, and I'm fun-loving and easy to talk to. I like to think that my less-than-perfect physical attributes (I'm quite pale and practically blind) are less seen because of my sparkling personality.

The problem is... I may be able to figure out what others truly think if I allow them to think it... to me. If I stop pushing the kind words aside, and take them to heart. If I let the nice things people say get to me as much as the mean things they do and say, I'd be a new woman! Why is it we remember the bad remarks so much more easily than the good? Why are we honestly our own worst enemies, our own worst critics?

I may not receive a compliment tomorrow... but if I do, I'm going to take it to heart. I'll let it put a smile on my face, and an extra spark in that step. I may even say "thank you" without laughing or shaking my head.

I have learned something today... I need to allow people to like me... in order to like myself. I am a good person, and I'm going to let the world see it. And those who don't? Well, they have issues of their own, so they need not worry about mine.

Don't be your own worst critic or enemy... join me and mean it! You are wonderful, and so am I!

Sunlight

It never ceases to amaze me how life's decisions and events can send us plunging into pure darkness, and within a mere twenty-four hours can fling us right back into contentment. I think the key is figuring out how to live in the comfort without allowing ourselves to worry about the next plunge.

The other night when I was typing my latest blog entry, I felt like I had fallen into a well. I honestly felt like I had tumbled into a deep, dark hole, and I just knew I was going to have to force my way back up. I imagined it taking weeks or months. At the time I didn't feel like I was being melodramatic. Looking back I still don't feel that I was. I was feeling such an intense sadness and uncertainty, I didn't know how to inch back up my self-made well into sunlight again.

Rather than creeping my way up little by little, God threw me a ladder.

It's unreasonable to think that we will never, ever think of the life we a) left behind or b) never experienced. It's interesting though that so many people are living that life, and wishing for their own contentment. It's amazing when you realize how many people would find their own perfect paradise living within the realm of your existence.

Sometimes the finest circumstances comes to us by accident. A lot of the time it's what we already possess, and not what we dream of that leads us to true happiness and contentment.