Color Blind

My daughter has wanted to paint the walls in her room for years.  Every birthday...every holiday...the only gift she ever requests is that her room get painted.  For some parents that may be the perfect solution to the infamous, "what-do-we-get-her?" question.  For this parent...it's the kiss of death.  I am not crafty.  I am not artistic.  I am not wired for home improvement projects.  After putting off the inevitable for the past six or seven years, give or take, I finally realized that she really meant it when she said she wanted her room painted.  I also realized that it was now or never since she will be graduating from high school in 2 years.

I don't know why I have such an aversion to projects of any sort.  I just.........I don't know.  Am I really that afraid of making a mistake?  Do I run from things that require my total concentration?  These are the sort of questions I asked myself.  These are the sorts of things that ran through my mind these past six or seven years.  Am I really that afraid of change?  Why must I analyze everything?

Anyway....I finally bit the bullet and marched my little self to Home Depot and said, "yes," to the colors my daughter picked out.  That's right...colors...as in, there has to be an accent wall....duh!  So...I've never painted anything other than a rock and a paint-by-number of a butterfly when I was under the age of 10.  I knew, though I don't know how, that I needed that blue tape stuff.  Other than that I was pretty clueless.  Enamel?  Indoor/outdoor?  Topcoat?  Huh?!  Oh, wait?!  I'll need brushes, rollers,....a pan.....uhhhhh.....thinking along these lines tends to make me put off painting my daughter's room for another six or seven years.  Nope.  This time I'm going to follow through.

So....with a bucket...I mean, a gallon, of hot pink paint and a gallon of dark brown paint later I started rolling paint onto my daughter's bedroom walls.  After two fuchsia splats onto my dark pine dining room table chair I recalled the words, "drop cloth."  Fortunately, I am a hoarder.  This means that I had, in my immediate possession, several used, plastic, shower liners.  I was actually starting to get the hang of it.  Or so I thought.  Not one to fret over 'exactness,' I 'accidentally' got a few bright pink 'marks' on the ceiling....oooops!  Then, when my daughter and I 'finished' painting we realized that, perhaps, we should have used wider tape.  Oh well.  Creative expression.....isn't that what true artists have?  When we pulled the blue tape off the baseboards we quickly discovered that it would've been better had we waited for the paint to dry.  No worries....we can 'touch up' later.  (Not exactly sure when 'later' will be).  Also....I kinda forgot where I put the switch plates and outlet covers.  Oh well.  You can hardly see the light switches or plugs since my daughter and I painted them.  We erroneously thought that 'that part' will be covered by the plate/cover anyway,'.....wrong.

Now, several weeks past the 'day of painting,' my daughter's room is very cute and cozy and oh so gorgeous....as long as you don't turn on the lights or plug anything in.  As far as the dangling blue tape above the doorways and along the baseboards...well....we consider that 'decor!'

Olympicoholic

Hi.  My name is The Brooding Chick and I am an olympicoholic.  I'm so addicted that around midnight, when they start replaying the events I've already spent the previous 12 hours watching...I watch 'em again.  I find it quite ironic that I spend all day, every day, watching men and women who are the epitome of good health while I haven't washed my hair since the opening ceremonies.  I think most people, after watching the Olympics, are so inspired and motivated that they immediately implement a heavy workout regime.  Me...I just want to go buy some red, white, and blue fingernail polish.  While most people are mesmerized by the yellow "WR" line sliding across the pool, I was interested in the nail art all of the swimmers were sporting.  Superficial? I think not.  I happen to have a lot in common with the Olympic athletes.  Take, for example, my extreme focus I dedicate to working out (I work outside the home ).  I have a strong desire to want to beat others (especially those who don't listen to me).  I run a race every day...perhaps you've heard of it...it's called "The Rat Race."  Finally, I absolutely, positively, love GOLD!

Running Out of Time

If you look closely at the sticker in the back window of this truck you'll see "0.0"  This struck me as hilarious as I am not a runner.  In fact, I'm hardly a walker.  Truth be told, 0.0 is about the speed I've been operating on during my time off this summer.  In a few weeks I'll be gaining enough speed to warrant a sticker the length of that windshield.  But, until then, I am relishing the downtime that summer affords.  I'll sleep until my body is ready to wake.  I'll meander throughout the house until it's time for a nap.  On days when I'm feeling that rare burst of energy I'll check the mail.  Ahhh....reading, writing, eating, sleeping.  That's my version of a summer marathon!

Dog Days

Has it really been an entire year since my last post?  Whoa!  I know the appropriate saying is, "Time Flies When You're Having Fun," but that's not necessarily the reason why I haven't posted.  Truth be told, I don't really know why I haven't posted...other than the fact that I've been super busy and my kids are teenagers, and I'm hormonally imbalanced.  But other than that...yeah...I've been having 'fun.'  

So, here it is, July 2012...the temperatures have kept me on the far far end of the highly irritated scale.  I don't even want to look out my window let alone open the front door.  I did venture out once but that was to river where I was immersed in the water the entire time I was there.  

I remember being younger and listening to the old ladies gripe about sweating...how they hated it.  I recall thinking that they were just wimps...old wimps.  My how the tables have turned.  I'm not only old, but I'm wimpy.  Heat is for the lizards.  Bring on the chilling gusts of wind that whisper to women everywhere, "Go forth and shop for wool!"  

I love summer...I really do.  I'm blessed to have a job where I am afforded multiple months off.  I'm fortunate to live in the country where I can walk around in my scuzziest threads and never have to wash my makeup off (since I never have to put it on!).  I'm grateful for the long, lazy days and the entitlement to ice cream that comes with extreme humidity and extended periods of drought.  

I have many projects in the works and one of them includes posting on a regular basis.  I’ll commit to a minimum of once a week and see how things go from there.  It feels good to be back in the nest!

Loaded

No matter how many pep talks I give myself I can never quite shake the sense of doom that descends upon me about a week before school starts.  I always tell myself that this year I won't get all flustered and life won't be all frantic because I'll stay organized and on top of things.  And then, on the evening of the first day, I start getting a tick above my right eye and I end up staying up way too late signing more forms than one should ever have to sign at any given time.  Because I have stayed up too late I have trouble getting up in the morning.  Because I have trouble getting up in the morning I invariably run late. Whenever I'm running late (usually from August until June), I tend to get grouchy.  Along with grouchiness comes grogginess, and grumpiness (the modern day dwarfs who befriend Sleepless Not-So-Beauty).

I keep telling myself that since my kids are older, this year will be a lot easier on me.  And then, on the evening of the first day of school, my throat tightens up in an attempt to keep certain words from spilling out...words that parents should simply keep in their heads while they smile and nod.  All of a sudden my kids' loads at school are getting heavier; their responsibilities and activities are increasing.  As a result my parental load becomes oversized.  I can't help but to feel weak when I know I must be strong.  I want to lessen their load but I know it is only through these heavy trials that true character is developed.  My prayer is that we can all yoke together and carry one another's load in an effort to balance each other out.    May all of you who are experiencing heavy burdens find the strength to bear them and eventually release them.  Hopefully the loads we all carry are filled with the blessings and opportunities needed to help us become the best of who we were designed to be.

The Nuts and Bolts of Shopping

Okay!  I get it!  Now I officially know how painful it is for men to go shopping with women.  The other day I tagged along on a trip to town and ended up walking into what can only be described as a "Man Mall."  As soon as the sliding doors opened I was met with a whoosh of scented air.  Only this time the scent was not Chanel...it was....hmmm....I'm not really sure.  I do know that it was repulsive and I found myself trying desperately not to inhale.  It had a hint of rubber with a top note of gasoline.  This tool warehouse had everything a handyman could ever want.  And get this...it was a discount store!  I guess that's where the similarity lies between men and women and the whole shopping experience:  we all love a good bargain.  There were aisles and aisles of compressors, ratchets, drill presses, and pliers.  No matter where I turned I was met with hardware.  There was not a soft item to be found.  I couldn't breathe.  I had to get out of there.  I actually did what a lot of men do when shopping with women:  I sat down in one of the display chairs.  It was a nice folding lawn chair that came with it's own drink holder and folding table attached.  It was beneath a canvas canopy.  It afforded me a nice view of the socket sets and metal ramps.  So, needless to say, I learned my lesson: always, always, always go shopping alone...or else bring along your best girlfriends and frolic in the makeup and clothing departments knowing there isn't a chainsaw blade or wheelbarrow tire in sight.

Bitter No More

Sometimes we can't help but to feel a bit sour.  Sometimes our outlook is pretty grim.  Sometimes all we need to cure our mood is a large dose of friendship.  I had the pleasure of spending almost the entire day with a dear friend.  As soon as I arrived at her house she confessed that she had such a miserable night she had considered uninviting me.  After an hour or so of our visit she told me that she was glad that I had come. Her outlook had changed and her mood had lifted.  We all have our moments of weakness and self-doubt.  But we should never ever forget that there are people who are in our corner...no matter what.  I actually enjoyed being able to simply sit and listen.  I had prayed earlier in the day to be able to offer whatever was needed and I felt that listening was best.  Sure I had plenty to say...but today was not about me.  I love having friends...friends who love me no matter what...and friends whom I love no matter what.  Life can be full of bitter lemons...but it's our friends along the way who help turn the bitterness into sweetness.

The Sarong should be called the "So Wrong"

I don't get it.  It's hard enough for women to fit into clothes--especially when they keep trying to squeeze into "their size" even though "their size" is no longer their size.  I speak from experience on this one.  I have not been happy with the way I've been looking in my clothes.  It seems that "nothing is working for me."  Finally, I had a meeting with myself and decided to go ahead and try "the next size up."  When that size didn't fit I went up another size....and this time it fit...but it was snug.  When I blocked out the number on the tag I realized how comfortable I was and how good the shorts fit.  Apparently the only way to feel skinny (not 'look skinny'...FEEL) is to buy clothing in the size you  never dreamed  you would ever ever wear (the size you never even fit into when pregnant!) and whallah!  Then, just when I had accepted the fact that the battle between me and my metabolism had not only been fought, but won....(only not by me)...I had to slip into a bathing suit (actually "slip" is not the best descriptor here...."squeeze/suck/squint" would be more appropriate).  Despite the fact that I am no longer in my 20s...okay...no longer in my 30s...I still managed to pull off a bikini.  I found that the one-piece suits actually "rounded me out" too much considering the fact that not only do I have a pronounced sway-back...but I also have a pronounced back-side.  Well...just the other day...when I knew I would be in a suit IN PUBLIC...I opted for a one-piece...but it was in "slimming black."  The label on the tag told me I was trying on a "sarong."  In truth it fit and it did pretty much what it was designed to do...swallow my pride.  But the problem I have with suits that are purchased to "hide," "disguise," "cover up," our "supple" skin on our tummies and thighs and buttocks is the fact that the suit covers up our top half.  Don't most women have "areas of concern" in their lower half?  If it were up to me I'd wear a suit that started at the ankles and ended at the top of the belly button!!  But even that is just SO WRONG!  Come on winter!!  The season where only faces and hands are exposed!!!

Great Ball of Fire!

Okay!  Enough with the heat already!  I used to think those movies that had people incinerating on the spot were exaggerating....but that sort of thing almost happened to me the other day when I snuck outside pre dawn to let the chickens out of their coop.  I figured that I would be safe considering the fact that it was 6:30 a.m. and the temps were only in the mid 90s.  Well they were!...almost.  The air simply burns.  So what if there is a breeze....it does not help because the “breeze” feels like the whoosh of heat you get when you open the oven door.  Because of all of the sweating that’s going on I’m having to wash a lot of clothing that I would otherwise merely “recycle.”  I have to refill the birdbath daily because a)the birds have declared it the best watering hole in the county, and b)the sun sucks up whatever is left at the end of the day.  On more than one occasion I have actually, physically been stuck to my car’s seat. ‘Tis the season of less clothing, but unfortunately, ‘tis also the season to either wear SPF 100 (yes, there is a 100...I know...I own it), or stay indoors.  So go jump in the lake you winey woman ... I would...if there was any water left to jump in.  Right now I am reminded of the Bugs Bunny cartoon...the one where he jumps up and then dives straight down into what should be an oasis of beautifully cool and refreshing water....only he ends up eating sand.  Ehhhhh.....what’s up with this heat, Doc?!

TTYL

I've got to hand it to all of you parents out there (mine included) who watched their child get into a car for their first official independent driving experience BEFORE  CELL PHONES HAD BEEN INVENTED!  I think that I was all cool and calm and "that's the nature of things"... but that's because I knew I would have at least the thinnest thread of contact with my son at the beginning, middle, and end of this whole "Nurture Your Child and Keep Him From Harm Only To Throw Him To The Wolves" thing called growing up (for him and me!).

Me:  "Text me AS SOON as you get there."
Him:  "I will."
Me:  "But not while you're driving."
Him:  "I know."
Me:  "Text me if you have to go ANYWHERE else."
Him:  "I will."
Me:  "But I don't want you going anywhere else."
Him:  "Okay."
Me:  "Be sure and text me AS SOON as you leave."
Him:  "I will."
Me:  "But not while you're driving."
Him:  "I won't."
Me:  "I love you."
Him:  "I love you too."
Him:  "I'm here."
Me:  (sigh of relief)  "Thanks for texting me.  Have a great day at work."
Me:  (Calling) "Why haven't you texted me yet?"
Him:  "Because I haven't left yet."
Me:  "When are you leaving?"
Him:  "In a little while.  I'll text you."
Him:  "I'm heading home."
Me:  "Thanks for texting.  Be careful."
Him:  (Walking in the door) "I'm home."
Me:    (Exhaling a prayer of gratitude)

VS:

Me: "Bye!"
My Mom:  "Bye"

H2OMG!

It has suddenly dawned on me that I have "crossed over."  I am now in the category of women who actually get into the water to cool off.  I don't give a hoot about a tan, and I jog in place with the hopes that when I towel off my thighs will not only be taut, but about as big around as the curling iron I no longer use because who uses those things anymore?  It's all about the flat iron now.  Flat, flat, flat.  I do not like that word anymore.  In fact, it has become a four-letter word to me.  "Flat" is a bad tire!  

I now own a bathing suit that has a built-in skirt.  I consider it "dressing up" to go swimming.  I no longer get goosebumps or "test the water" before getting in.  I don't worry about mascara running because makeup has become "one more thing" that I have to take off at night.  I'm sick of layers, whether it be in clothing or in my hair.  I no longer "suck in" because it doesn't look any different when I don't.  I'm past the sticker shock of the size on the tag...I just want something that is bigger than I am so I feel comfortable.  I used to pay $30 for a 2 tiny pieces of material...now I pay $12 for one large piece.  The fact that we are in the middle of one of the worst droughts on record has done nothing for my broken internal thermostat.  Back when there was water and I owned a bikini, I was always too cold to jump in.  Now...it's hotter than hell and I feel like creating some waves!

It's Getting Closer

The countdown is well underway!  We are in the last week of school.  There is only a day and a half left and then time slows down.  It's as if the opportunity presents itself for that other half of me to live a little.  I love what I do but I also love doing nothing...and summer totally allows for that!  Even though I work another week after the kids are finished with school, I don't mind it at all.  There is something magical about driving my own car...by myself!  There is something liberating about being the only one awake and getting ready.  There is something incredible about walking out of the door ON TIME!  Nope...I don't mind going to work while the kids stay home....but...I don't want to do it forever!

But it's those precious, well-anticipated, last couple of days of school that make me love the job that I do.  Everyone is so excited and giddy...even the kids!  It is such a gift to be blessed with a job that allows for renewal.   

This is also the summer before my youngest enters into high school.  Next school year finds me the mother of a junior and a freshman.  We are talking an independent driver and an up coming high schooler.  Everything is getting closer....jobs, dating, proms, graduation, college.  I can remember being a kid and playing with my father's binoculars.  I can still recall having to squeeze one of my eyes shut in order to get a clear view.  My eyes are close set and the binoculars were always too wide.  I remember looking through the lens and seeing trees and fence posts in clear view.  No sooner had the objects come into view they would disappear as I jerked the binoculars away to see if I could see the same image with my own eyes.  Sometimes I could, though not distinctly...other times not at all.  I know I was fascinated with the dial in between the two lenses that allowed me to focus.  

Well...now it time for me focus.  I need to focus on being there for my children more than ever before.  I need to focus on making sure they meet deadlines...volunteer...apply for scholarships.  It's time to focus on slowing down even though life is speeding up.  Wait!  I want to turn those binoculars around so that when I look out into life things seem much farther away than they really are.  It is becoming clear to me that I am going to have to let go of the binoculars and enjoy the view that is right before me.

Confirmation Please

While it was my daughter who got confirmed this past Sunday, it was I who received confirmation.  I received confirmation in that I had, in fact, followed through with the vows that I made when she and her brother were baptized.   For four years "we" have been going to confirmation classes on Wednesday evenings as well as on Sundays.  "We" have been getting home late and "we" have had to memorize scripture.  While I believe this to be essential in their lives as Christians I must admit that I am relieved this accomplishment has been achieved.  I find it interesting that the burdens we feel, as parents, are usually ones we heap upon ourselves.  But deep down we know that the sacrifices we are making today will benefit our kids later in life.  And that is just the thing...when we stop grumbling and complaining about all of the things we "have" to do...and realize that we are doing what needs to be done....then, and only then, can we come to appreciate not only what we are doing, but what our parents did (or didn't) do for us.  This 'parenting thing' is so much more than making sure our kids look both ways before crossing the street, or that they remember to say 'please' and 'thank you.'  It is about ensuring that our kids have some kind of firm foundation upon which to stand.  Hopefully that foundation is large enough and sturdy enough to withstand the turbulence that will inevitably be thrown their way.  I guess what I am trying to get at is this:  yes, it was my daughter who was confirmed, but I can't help but to feel a little swelling of pride in knowing that I had a part in building a portion of her foundation.  The fact that Jesus blessed those efforts last Sunday didn't hurt a bit!

You Light Up My Life

This past weekend I was fortunate enough to be able to get together with some dear friends of mine.  The way that we love each other despite the fact that some of us snort when we laugh (me), show up late (me), or bring their kids along to a girls' night out (me), is proof that our friendship is unconditional.  This circle of women that I am blessed to be a part of knows when to listen and when to speak up.  Each of us is an elixir for the other...a healing balm when needed.  Each of us has multiple irons in the fire.  Each of us longs for a chance to slow down and enjoy.  And that is exactly what we did the other evening.  As the sun set over the cedar filled hills we sauntered out of the kitchen and into the pool (our feet did at least).  The echoing calls of the resident peacock and the gobble of the pet turkeys served as our evening's soundtrack.  The farm cats lazily set the mood and we quickly followed suit.  It's so nice to be able to completely relax...to not give a flip about excess skin or sloppy posture.  Like the lounging cats, we flopped ourselves poolside and enjoyed the stories that are only funny to us.  Even though laughter was involved, some tears welled up as well.  As women, each of us has emotional strings that are alternately pulled and tugged.  For some of us the triggers are children getting ready to graduate from high school in a matter of weeks.  For others it is the fact that major decisions have to be made.  No matter the situation, the fact is we have each other with us as we plow through these moments.  As I become more and more who I was meant to be, I have noticed that God has lead me to be in the presence of people who make me better...people who build me up...people who I want to be like....people who love me.  I am grateful for the people whose light has made my path a little brighter.  I am thankful for the rainbow of love that has been reflected back to me via the prism of women I am happy to call my friends.

Cat Nip, Cat Nap, Catatonic...

Little Miss Kitty is 7 months old now.  This means that she fully rules the roost around here.  I still absolutely adore her...so much so that I even love her when she hooks my nostril with her teeth at 3 a.m....I told you...love.  For the most part though she sleeps outside.  She loves hunting the cute little field mice.  Originally we got cats because we thought they would help to keep the snakes, scorpions, and other creepies that bite, sting, or have poisonous venom, at bay.  Turns out our cats prefer to stalk the beautiful, harmless swallows and the cute and furry eensie weensie field mice.  But, nevertheless, at the end of a hard day of protecting the family, Kitty has discovered, like so many of us, being within close proximity to a bottle or two or four of merlot can be quite rewarding.