and yes, I understand that ME time is just crazy talk
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Counting them one by one...
When upon life’s billows you are tempest-tossed,
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.
When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost,
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.
With my feet dangling at his knees...
I would like to think that I'm not the only crazy person in this world. I know, I'm taking a leap here. I would also like to think that I'm not the only woman that gets moody for reasons even I can't put my finger on. I start the day off great... all grins and a joyful heart as I do my chores, prepare breakfast, and go about our regular daily tasks. Then quite suddenly (I do mean, quite suddenly) I find myself in some strange place where what I say and think don't really match up. I'm in a [drum roll, please] MOOD, around here we call it, "THE MOOD". The very word makes Big C cringe. I can guarantee, nothing bewilders this stout beast of a man more than when I utter those words to him. I'll even bet that if I said that single word over the phone, there would inevitably be some major catastrophe at work that required his presence until such a time as THE MOOD was better.
It'sodd crazy.
So... here's a "sample" scenario of said MOOD:
Big C comes home, and yep, he usually gets to work on work on our beautiful red sofa... quite a crazy concept to come home from work to keep on working... especially on a red sofa. Alas, that is my life. Or, let's say he doesn't get to work and he does... say, anything else (at times, I do wonder what it would be like if he were a recliner 'mote-clicker kinda man).
Eventually, he notices I'm all clammed up, not saying much, not smiling, and certainly not the happy go-lucky lady he left at home that morning. Quite innocently he asks, "Is everything okay? Did I do something to make you angry?"
My very simple and straight to the point answer is, "No." Afterall, I am completely aware that I don't understand why I'm in a funk, so there's really no point in trying to explain it to him. I'll even bet a happy meal that most men wouldn't understand why I don't understand how I'm feeling and if I don't understand how I feel, why am I feeling moody? See the predicament... I just don't understand.
That's the situation as it occurs. However, seeing that we've been together for almost half of our lives, Big C has learned to adapt to THE MOOD. It's taken great pains on his part as the trial and error wasn't always easy. So how does he deal with it? Well, he scoops me up in his arms for a long hug (it's always best when my feet are dangling at his knees) and when he sets me back down he takes my hand and begins dancing with me. At this point the children come running after hearing all my giggles and insist that this private dance become a family dance. Quite simply, it's the cureall for THE MOOD.
So, my personal lesson for myself, since the situation described occured this very day not six hours ago... if I'm in THE MOOD and I find myself wondering why me, why again, why do I feel this way? I'm going to stop what I'm doing, find Big C and my littles, get a big huge hug, and dance a little.
I can't explain the crazy away. I certainly can't figure out THE MOOD... but I can combat the crazy with giggles and love. And, it's even better when my feet are dangling at his knees.
It's
So... here's a "sample" scenario of said MOOD:
Big C comes home, and yep, he usually gets to work on work on our beautiful red sofa... quite a crazy concept to come home from work to keep on working... especially on a red sofa. Alas, that is my life. Or, let's say he doesn't get to work and he does... say, anything else (at times, I do wonder what it would be like if he were a recliner 'mote-clicker kinda man).
Eventually, he notices I'm all clammed up, not saying much, not smiling, and certainly not the happy go-lucky lady he left at home that morning. Quite innocently he asks, "Is everything okay? Did I do something to make you angry?"
My very simple and straight to the point answer is, "No." Afterall, I am completely aware that I don't understand why I'm in a funk, so there's really no point in trying to explain it to him. I'll even bet a happy meal that most men wouldn't understand why I don't understand how I'm feeling and if I don't understand how I feel, why am I feeling moody? See the predicament... I just don't understand.
That's the situation as it occurs. However, seeing that we've been together for almost half of our lives, Big C has learned to adapt to THE MOOD. It's taken great pains on his part as the trial and error wasn't always easy. So how does he deal with it? Well, he scoops me up in his arms for a long hug (it's always best when my feet are dangling at his knees) and when he sets me back down he takes my hand and begins dancing with me. At this point the children come running after hearing all my giggles and insist that this private dance become a family dance. Quite simply, it's the cureall for THE MOOD.
So, my personal lesson for myself, since the situation described occured this very day not six hours ago... if I'm in THE MOOD and I find myself wondering why me, why again, why do I feel this way? I'm going to stop what I'm doing, find Big C and my littles, get a big huge hug, and dance a little.
I can't explain the crazy away. I certainly can't figure out THE MOOD... but I can combat the crazy with giggles and love. And, it's even better when my feet are dangling at his knees.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Cinderella needs a rewrite
I just keep thinking, why on earth must I suffer for the blatant lies that were drilled into my way of thinking as a child? I shouldn't have to suffer. That's - just - it. It's not my fault... not by a long shot! Just wait though... you will soon understand who is to blame.
As young girls we are flooded with glorious images of princesses in fancy ball gowns. Their hair is always perfect, immaculate, they sing and flowers bloom, they pee on a weed in the middle of the woods and it suddenly becomes a sunflower. They dance in the woods with owls and deer and countless other wild creatures (could you see me doing that? No. Someone would inevitably create that state institution I like to refer to just to lock my deer dancing butt up---who-who... yes, Miss Wife, you!). You know the routine.
The best part of the whole unrealistic scene is the prince. Oh yes, the prince. He says very little, right? And what he does say is like pure gold flowing from a public water fountain. We all want some of that. The prince and princess dance away into the sunset, into the dimming ballroom, or kissing from the back of a horse drawn carriage with a sign reading, "Just happily married."
But you know what gets me most? The whole, "and they lived happily ever" without so much as an effort or a quarrel or a battle or even hair pulling. (okay, okay, we don't pull hair, but I'm all for new things). Why do the fairy tales leave out the juicy details. Blah, blah happy... blah, blah ever... blah, blah after. Why does the story end there? I think children, especially us baby girls (I'm referring to my child self here), would do well to know there's more to love and marriage than just happily ever after bliss. A marriage with all bliss and no struggle makes for one unrealistic "made for TV" special.
So, excuse the happiness out of me when I get all angry and feel like I have been jipped. This is not what I was led to believe that "happily ever after" would be. I would go so far as to say, I sometimes feel like I'm in grade school and someone took all of my glitter and poured it out onto the floor.
Why can't they just make sequels to all these amazing fairy tales? With a little more insight, I certainly wouldn't have spent countless years feeling like a failure... chasing the illustrated versions of happily ever after that never really exist like they do in animation. Wondering what I was doing wrong and why I couldn't make my life what the fairy tales made it out to be.
Yeah, I obviously had some growing up to do. So... what about my baby girl, my baby boy? Well, perhaps I can help some by teaching them that all good things are made good as a result of hard work, patience, diligence, dedication, trust and empathy.
Big C and I made a promise a few years ago that the word "end" and the word "divorce" did not exist for us. We never considered it an option... but in the heat of a battle, those words have serious consequences and can go far to damage trust. So, we decided to agree that sometimes, when you love someone like crazy and you admittedly understand that you are married to your polar opposite, you just have to accept that crazy will sometimes ensue and you just have to love each other anyway.
The best part of my happily ever after... being able to fight like there's no tomorrow and knowing that tomorrow we will still love one another. And guess what Cinderella, you didn't teach me that one!
As young girls we are flooded with glorious images of princesses in fancy ball gowns. Their hair is always perfect, immaculate, they sing and flowers bloom, they pee on a weed in the middle of the woods and it suddenly becomes a sunflower. They dance in the woods with owls and deer and countless other wild creatures (could you see me doing that? No. Someone would inevitably create that state institution I like to refer to just to lock my deer dancing butt up---who-who... yes, Miss Wife, you!). You know the routine.
The best part of the whole unrealistic scene is the prince. Oh yes, the prince. He says very little, right? And what he does say is like pure gold flowing from a public water fountain. We all want some of that. The prince and princess dance away into the sunset, into the dimming ballroom, or kissing from the back of a horse drawn carriage with a sign reading, "Just happily married."
But you know what gets me most? The whole, "and they lived happily ever" without so much as an effort or a quarrel or a battle or even hair pulling. (okay, okay, we don't pull hair, but I'm all for new things). Why do the fairy tales leave out the juicy details. Blah, blah happy... blah, blah ever... blah, blah after. Why does the story end there? I think children, especially us baby girls (I'm referring to my child self here), would do well to know there's more to love and marriage than just happily ever after bliss. A marriage with all bliss and no struggle makes for one unrealistic "made for TV" special.
So, excuse the happiness out of me when I get all angry and feel like I have been jipped. This is not what I was led to believe that "happily ever after" would be. I would go so far as to say, I sometimes feel like I'm in grade school and someone took all of my glitter and poured it out onto the floor.
Why can't they just make sequels to all these amazing fairy tales? With a little more insight, I certainly wouldn't have spent countless years feeling like a failure... chasing the illustrated versions of happily ever after that never really exist like they do in animation. Wondering what I was doing wrong and why I couldn't make my life what the fairy tales made it out to be.
Yeah, I obviously had some growing up to do. So... what about my baby girl, my baby boy? Well, perhaps I can help some by teaching them that all good things are made good as a result of hard work, patience, diligence, dedication, trust and empathy.
Big C and I made a promise a few years ago that the word "end" and the word "divorce" did not exist for us. We never considered it an option... but in the heat of a battle, those words have serious consequences and can go far to damage trust. So, we decided to agree that sometimes, when you love someone like crazy and you admittedly understand that you are married to your polar opposite, you just have to accept that crazy will sometimes ensue and you just have to love each other anyway.
The best part of my happily ever after... being able to fight like there's no tomorrow and knowing that tomorrow we will still love one another. And guess what Cinderella, you didn't teach me that one!
Saturday, August 6, 2011
My corndog affair,
It's after midnight at this moment. Big C has left for his weekly OCS drills in the state capital of Arkansas. The kidlets are tucked away in their beds and konked out from the day's adventures (oh yes, we had our new pool dug out and installed and we even saw...dum, dum, drum roll please, Captain America). Yet, here I sit. I've been heavy hearted this week. Very heavy hearted. I tend to think I'm a loon deserving of admittance to the state mental institution (please tell me Texas has no such thing) when I'm feeling gloom.
I'm quite frankly a party all in myself. I throw some of the wildest pity parties you'll ever see! Lord bless me, I don't usually remember them after the troubles are gone.
Generally, my gloom is brought on by troubles with the Big C. Yes, troubles. See... I told you it "ain't always pretty." That's life. That's marriage. If it were easy, I'm sure the divorce rate wouldn't be where it is now.
Why the trouble, you ask. I'm not sure I can say with definition. It's a feeling of detachment. He's overwhelmed at work, overwhelmed with his Officer Training and yet, at the end of the day, I expect him to leave all those worries behind and enter the world of me and the kidlets where everything is sunshine and daisies and at times, rainbows and yes.... yes, UNICORNS! Oh my goodness, I left out the skipping and holding hands... I mustn't leave out pertient details. So, I said it!
When he comes home with an overwhelming desire to do this, do that (generally, in front of the computer handling a thousand emails and at least a dozen phone calls), I start to feel... well... honestly, it's somewhere between jealous and left out and what-about-me. Childish... yeah. Probably so... actually is, so. However, in the moment, in this moment even... it feels like there are 1 bajillion katrillion miles between us and I could walk by him, completely naked, maybe even covered in chocolate, eating a corndog and talking to my unicorns and he wouldn't even notice... nevermind adding: bouncing through the field of daisies that exist only in my mind. He might even nod and say, "Yes, I like unicorns and chocolate, too." Only realizing a week later that he'd said anything about unicorns... and insisting that there is NO WAY I was naked OR wearing just my chocolate.
LIGHTBULB! So, maybe the next time he brings his work home with him, and I'm feeling lonely and left out, I should tell him as gently and tenderly as I can. Yes, he's that kind of man. He's a good man who's willing to fix any problem... if he KNOWS what the problem is (yeah, I kind of have to open up, spill the glitter, share the unicorns, and tell him what's going on with me).
Why? I know him. He's hot-toed to fix anything within his power (that's usually a man thing anyway). And, if that doesn't work, I'll put the kidlets to bed. Afterwards, I'll bake myself a corndog, melt myself some chocolate, lather up and walk by him five or six times hacking and coughing while attempting to eat my corndog... at least until he does notice. Yeah, that's just me. That's just one of the things that makes us so interesting...
Hello mistress... thank you for taking the time to help out with the wife.
Again, please tell me that Texas has no such thing (ya know... state mental institutions for unicorn lovin', glitter throwin', corndog eatin' mistresses)!
I'm quite frankly a party all in myself. I throw some of the wildest pity parties you'll ever see! Lord bless me, I don't usually remember them after the troubles are gone.
Generally, my gloom is brought on by troubles with the Big C. Yes, troubles. See... I told you it "ain't always pretty." That's life. That's marriage. If it were easy, I'm sure the divorce rate wouldn't be where it is now.
Why the trouble, you ask. I'm not sure I can say with definition. It's a feeling of detachment. He's overwhelmed at work, overwhelmed with his Officer Training and yet, at the end of the day, I expect him to leave all those worries behind and enter the world of me and the kidlets where everything is sunshine and daisies and at times, rainbows and yes.... yes, UNICORNS! Oh my goodness, I left out the skipping and holding hands... I mustn't leave out pertient details. So, I said it!
When he comes home with an overwhelming desire to do this, do that (generally, in front of the computer handling a thousand emails and at least a dozen phone calls), I start to feel... well... honestly, it's somewhere between jealous and left out and what-about-me. Childish... yeah. Probably so... actually is, so. However, in the moment, in this moment even... it feels like there are 1 bajillion katrillion miles between us and I could walk by him, completely naked, maybe even covered in chocolate, eating a corndog and talking to my unicorns and he wouldn't even notice... nevermind adding: bouncing through the field of daisies that exist only in my mind. He might even nod and say, "Yes, I like unicorns and chocolate, too." Only realizing a week later that he'd said anything about unicorns... and insisting that there is NO WAY I was naked OR wearing just my chocolate.
LIGHTBULB! So, maybe the next time he brings his work home with him, and I'm feeling lonely and left out, I should tell him as gently and tenderly as I can. Yes, he's that kind of man. He's a good man who's willing to fix any problem... if he KNOWS what the problem is (yeah, I kind of have to open up, spill the glitter, share the unicorns, and tell him what's going on with me).
Why? I know him. He's hot-toed to fix anything within his power (that's usually a man thing anyway). And, if that doesn't work, I'll put the kidlets to bed. Afterwards, I'll bake myself a corndog, melt myself some chocolate, lather up and walk by him five or six times hacking and coughing while attempting to eat my corndog... at least until he does notice. Yeah, that's just me. That's just one of the things that makes us so interesting...
Hello mistress... thank you for taking the time to help out with the wife.
Again, please tell me that Texas has no such thing (ya know... state mental institutions for unicorn lovin', glitter throwin', corndog eatin' mistresses)!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Concessions Stand
Never one to say, "Let your man rule your every decision..." I also want to say, God brought you together for a reason... there is a purpose.
For 11 years I have been married to my high school sweetheart. We've always said to one another, "We are polar opposites on some issues." And, this is the truth. There are many issues where we simply do not see eye to eye. Trust me, learning that it's okay to disagree and have a difference of opinions has been a long, drawn out battle for us.
My dear, sweet big C has always been very cautious with how he spends his hard earned money. Who can blame him with our current economic crisis? However, he has the distinct misfortune of being married to a "fly by the seat of her pants" type of gal who likes to "spend" money like she's going to die, otherwise. Yeah, I'm setting myself up here... heck, I'm telling on myself.
It tends to be a tragic course... trendy housewife longs to be up on the current trends and insists on having the cutest kids on the block... or in the state, as is my case. I don't spend badly or secretively, mind you. Just given the opportunity, I'd rather spend it on clothing, accessories, and house decor. Just saying.
When we sat down to plan our "moved to a new state budget," I was more than eager to see what we could save. We had already agreed that the large sum we earned in equity and improvements on our prior home would remain in our account... it would be our set minimum and we would not allow ourselves to go below that value. We also previously agreed to save another 60K for the down payment on our next and final home. The home we'd move our kids out of... the home we would likely retire in.
Man was I impressed to see that hefty number after we completed our budget... only to find out that we failed to multiply our grocery budget by four. We saw that hefty number decline to a... well, at least we have some leftover money in case of emergencies. We decided then, it was time to tighten our purse straps. We started trying to find cuts wherever we could make them. At our current rate we wouldn't hit goal in the next two years. There was just no way. And, we aren't living it up, mind you... we are just spending till we can't spend no more.
So... it is at this point... month two of our "moved to a new state" budget that I realize... Mama can't be the trendsetter all the time. Mama has to stick to a budget... especially considering mama doesn't have to work and isn't responsible for making the money needed to suffice our extravagant (at least in our minds) lifestyle. Afterall, the last thing I want to see is my overstressed boss of a husband worried about our savings dividends.
Now, I choose to look at it a new way. My challenge, my personal dare is to save this sweet and amazing man as much money as I can, while also fulfilling my desires, his desires, their desires, and our needs. So... I may not be the trendiest woman at all times... my kids may not have the newest designs at all times... but when and where it matters most, in our home... concessions stand.
We are a budget bound family and if I can't afford it this month... maybe I can make some cuts somewhere throughout the month and maybe, just maybe, I can afford it next month.
For 11 years I have been married to my high school sweetheart. We've always said to one another, "We are polar opposites on some issues." And, this is the truth. There are many issues where we simply do not see eye to eye. Trust me, learning that it's okay to disagree and have a difference of opinions has been a long, drawn out battle for us.
My dear, sweet big C has always been very cautious with how he spends his hard earned money. Who can blame him with our current economic crisis? However, he has the distinct misfortune of being married to a "fly by the seat of her pants" type of gal who likes to "spend" money like she's going to die, otherwise. Yeah, I'm setting myself up here... heck, I'm telling on myself.
It tends to be a tragic course... trendy housewife longs to be up on the current trends and insists on having the cutest kids on the block... or in the state, as is my case. I don't spend badly or secretively, mind you. Just given the opportunity, I'd rather spend it on clothing, accessories, and house decor. Just saying.
When we sat down to plan our "moved to a new state budget," I was more than eager to see what we could save. We had already agreed that the large sum we earned in equity and improvements on our prior home would remain in our account... it would be our set minimum and we would not allow ourselves to go below that value. We also previously agreed to save another 60K for the down payment on our next and final home. The home we'd move our kids out of... the home we would likely retire in.
Man was I impressed to see that hefty number after we completed our budget... only to find out that we failed to multiply our grocery budget by four. We saw that hefty number decline to a... well, at least we have some leftover money in case of emergencies. We decided then, it was time to tighten our purse straps. We started trying to find cuts wherever we could make them. At our current rate we wouldn't hit goal in the next two years. There was just no way. And, we aren't living it up, mind you... we are just spending till we can't spend no more.
So... it is at this point... month two of our "moved to a new state" budget that I realize... Mama can't be the trendsetter all the time. Mama has to stick to a budget... especially considering mama doesn't have to work and isn't responsible for making the money needed to suffice our extravagant (at least in our minds) lifestyle. Afterall, the last thing I want to see is my overstressed boss of a husband worried about our savings dividends.
Now, I choose to look at it a new way. My challenge, my personal dare is to save this sweet and amazing man as much money as I can, while also fulfilling my desires, his desires, their desires, and our needs. So... I may not be the trendiest woman at all times... my kids may not have the newest designs at all times... but when and where it matters most, in our home... concessions stand.
We are a budget bound family and if I can't afford it this month... maybe I can make some cuts somewhere throughout the month and maybe, just maybe, I can afford it next month.
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