Thursday, September 30, 2010


I've been reading a post that was written at My Little Life, and it made me want to also address the issue.

The Anonymous Comment.  Now, I want to first give a little disclaimer. I realize that not everyone has a Google account (like the Martians, elves from the North Pole, and maybe the Tooth Fairy), and sometimes they want to comment on a blog. Sometimes there is a call for anonymous answers (as in my Need to Belong post) when personal information may be revealed that you don't want the world to know. I get that.

What I don't get, is why someone would want to anonymously "hate" on someone else's views or opinions. If you write a comment on MY blog, and respond to MY writing, but you don't have the balls gall to own it, you have no business writing it. It made me feel good to read Mama's post and know that I'm not alone, but it irrtated me even more that people DO this.

Do you consider yourself a gossip? Do you think it's appropriate to talk behind someone's back, or send anonymous hate mail? If you leave anonymous comments that are disrespectful or hateful in nature, you are doing just that. If you attack anything other than the opinion expressed in the writing, you are being a rude and low-class person in my opinion. You know who I am. You read what I wrote, and I stand behind every word. You owe me the same courtesy.

If you have the guts to say something rude and hateful, but not the guts to own it, well, I guess I'll just call you yellow. And I have no problem doing it, because I'm right here putting my name on my words. Next time you write something rude, ask yourself if you'd have the guts to say it to that person's face. If not, backspace backspace backspace, cancel.

For examples of this, read "I'm Blocked," or go to Amazon and see for yourself. I don't delete the comments because I think the authors make themselves look like asses and I enjoy the entertainment :)  I don't care what people have to say, or I would delete the comments and obviously  not encourage my blog readers to read them. What bothers me is their refusal to own their words. They feel empowered by putting their thoughts out there because they are in no way vulnerable or responsible for what they say.

Have a lovely day. And only leave anonymous comments if you dare!

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Wherefore Art Thou, Jamey?

If you don't follow me on Facebook then you are not yet annoyed by my constant posts about Jamey Johnson. Yay for you!

It all started back in 2008 when I was working at Weaubleau. Somewhere during the year Wade decided to move from the opposite side of the room to the seat next to my desk. I really hadn't spoken to Wade before that, and had let him blend in quietly, being overpowered by the louder (more obnoxious) personalities in his class.

One day when they were doing their work, he asked if we could listen to "In Color" on my computer. I was always skeptical about student song choices, but when he told me I'd find it on I figured it couldn't be too inappropriate.  We listened to it, and while the lyrics were very powerful, there was just something about the sound that I absolutely loved.

Fast forward more than a year. Bryan decided to buy That Lonesome Song, the album that had "In Color" on it. I immediately fell in love with "High Cost of Living," and I think we about wore that song out that weekend. As I listened more, I became more in love with every song on the album. His lyrics were honest. He wrote from a dark place in his life, and he didn't hide the things he had experienced. Pain, rebellion, love, poor decisions, and revenge.

His lighter songs were fun and up-beat, and I'm not going to lie. I love his accent. He says "Flaw-rid-uh" instead of "Floor-da." He has a slow, southern drawl that makes his voice even more amazing. I fell in love with him as an artist. He was my mowing buddy, my walking buddy, and my cleaning buddy.

A few weeks ago, his second album came out, a double-cd, and I bought it the day it came out. It's a little more redemptive than his first album, but it has some amazing songs on it as well. Songs that can make you feel your soul. I love it. I've been professing my love for him for months now, as you probably read (time and time again). "Oh Jamey, Oh Jamey, wherefore art thou, Jamey?" I've been dreaming about the day he would be close enough for me to at least road trip and see him live. Then, something remarkable happened.

A few days ago I told my friend Lindsay that her country icon, Jason Aldean, would be in Springfield next month. I mentioned that there probably weren't great seats left. Her mom commented on our post, telling me to check out ticket triangle, and that she had bought Lindsay tickets!

I checked out ticket triangle, and through that process found out that Jamey is going to be in KC next week. NEXT WEEK! Is that enough time to order tickets and plan to go? Would Bryan even TAKE me after months of professing my love for this musician?  The answer was yes!  We ordered tickets and will be headed that way next Thursday.

I've been to a LOT of concerts. I've seen Alan Jackson more times than I can count. I've seen Kenny Chesney, Deana Carter, Gary Allan (at the Bud Tent for FREE before he was big), the Beach Boys, and about every Christian band who was popular in the 90s. But NEVER have I been SO very excited to see someone live. I can't wait :)

Friday, September 24, 2010

My Second Friday (with Five Questions, Of Course)

Well it's FRIDAY again!  It felt like Friday all day yesterday.  Bryan, Ryan, Sheila and I went to the Alan Jackson/Jerrod Neimann concert last night and had a blast!  Jerrod Neimann surprised me and was very entertaining.  He also has music that is MUCH better than his over-played, annoying "Lover, Lover" song.  And even though I've seen Alan Jackson at least six times before with my granny, it's been more than ten  years since I saw him, and I really enjoyed seeing him. It's fun to go to a concert where you know every song.  It was also my first time to see "Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning" live, and that was powerful.

We made t-shirts for the KTTS Take Me Backstage contest.  We didn't win, but it made for a cute picture of us all.  (If you're my Facebook friend you'll see it later.  My connection is too slow to upload them here)  We sang, we danced, we clapped, we had a great time.  And after that fun night out, I still have a "real" Friday to look forward to!  And I'm alllllll alone today without a car, so there's no telling what all I will get done!  Go ME!

Anyway, let's get to the real meat of this blog.  The FIVE Questions!!  YIPEEE!

1. If you could speak with a different accent, what would it be (i.e Australian, Scottish)?

Wellllll the thing is I can speak with a different accent.  If you knew me in high school, you know my Mid-Missouri-half-hick-half-southern accent was much thicker in my younger days.  I worked very hard to correct it as much as I could when I went to college, and even more so when I changed my major to English.  I still remember Levi making fun of how I used to say my short "i" as in hill and pill (which sounded more like heeul or peeul) and my short "a" as in what (which sounded more like whut).  Yes Levi made fun of MY accent.  It was that distinct.  And if you know me well, and are around me a lot, you may hear it creep out when I'm nervous, excited, etc.  I'd say now that I'm not teaching it is coming back more, because just yesterday I noticed when Chloe said, "tomato" she said "tuh-may-ee-doh."  Maybe she gets it from Bryan...

If I had to choose another accent, though, I'd speak with a British accent.  Not the sloppy drunk hooker one, though, the prim and proper one.  I think it is the only accent that makes people sound smarter.

2. Can you fall asleep anywhere? (i.e floor, couch, deck)
I can't fall asleep just anywhere by choice.  If it's bedtime I can't just curl up on the back deck or out in the barn and drift into my dreams.  I have to be tucked into my covers and snuggled up with my sweetie. (I have, on occasion, fallen asleep watching TV, and once upon a time I lived on my old couch because it was more comfy than any bed I've occupied)  But, if my body gives out and I can't make it one more second, I have been known to konk out on the couch, chair, car, truck, bus, floor, teacher's lounge, and even kitchen table :)

3. Do you use public restrooms? If so, do you sit on the toilet?
I try not to.  There have been times I have had Bryan drive PAST the gas station and onto a gravel road, because I'd rather do my business behind the truck (only in the dark!) than have to go into a public restroom.  I despise having to take my little girl in them as well.  However, if I do have to go in, I hover.  Depending on the cleanliness of the bathroom, I either cover the seat for Chloe or hold her over the toilet, and I make her keep her hands on her head so she doesn't touch anything.  It's also possible that she thinks you get bites on your bum from those bottomless beach bathrooms *sheepish grin.*  What?  It could happen.  Don't worry.  I was scolded for that when Mom took her to the beach and used a bathroom there.  Chloe told her that Mommy says there are nasty bugs on those toilets.  Nana told her Mommy was wrong.  Then Chloe told Mommy she was wrong, but she wasn't sure enough to try it out ;)

4. If you were stuck in an elevator for 24 hours, what celebrity would you most want to be stuck with?
Hm.  If you know me, you're expecting me to say Dermot or Benny.  But I'm not sure that either of them could entertain me for 24 hours (now, now, don't go there).  So maybe Jack Johnson, or Jamey Johnson (woah big difference there!) to musically entertain me, and mabye make me famous in a song.  Or maybe John Mayer. I know he's a douche, but I'm a cynic, so we might just get along ;)  As far as same-sex celebs, I could handle hanging out with Chelsea Handler for 24 hours.  We could definitely be friends.

5. Where did you & your significant other go on your 1st date?
Ohhh the first date that we planned and went on alone (our first actual dinner date included his dad) was to Applebees and a movie.  :)  We had been talking for a while, and had been around each other some already, but I was so nervous.  We had fun, though. Awwwww.  *Remembering*  Every date since then has been just as fantastic.  I love him oh yes I do :) :) :)

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Pride: The Good Kind

Did you ever have something that you were really proud of?  Maybe something you saved up your money for, or worked really hard for, or got a really great deal on.  I've had lots of things in my life that I was really proud of (NOTE to anonymous hater: In these sentences "of," and "on" are used as adverbs, modifying the verb phrases "were/was proud," and "got," so you don't need to leave a snotty comment about my use of a preposition at the end of a sentence).

I remember the first year my mom conned me out of having a birthday party by offering me the presents I would get anyway PLUS a fifty dollar bill.  WOW that was a lot of money then!  I still got to have a friend over, and I made bank :)  That year I used the money to buy myself this coat I was dying to have. 

If I tell you about the coat, a Wal-Mart denim coat that was long and insulated, and had a dark leather trim, you probably wouldn't think it was much, but I bought it myself.  I was so proud of that coat.  Throughout the years I also saved up and bought myself a tv for my room, a leather bomber jacket (it was the 90s guys!), and numerous cds, VHS tapes (90s), and shoes (Adidas runners and Dr. Martens sandals AND boots).  Finally at sixteen I got a job and made the payments (every last one of 'em) on my first car (a 1989 Escort with hatch-back baby he he).

I cherished those things so dearly, not because of what they were, but because I had saved my own money and bought them for myself.  These days that's the case with pretty much everything, so it's not as amazing as it once was, but there are still things, now and then, that I feel very proud of.

On the other side of that, have you ever trusted someone to use or borrow one of those things you were so proud of?  I remember letting a boy I liked drive my car for the first time and being a nervous wreck the entire time. Luckily that turned out well, but I remember asking myself what I was thinking.

Sometimes, that doesn't turn out so well, though.  Did you ever let someone play with your favorite toy, only to have it broken?  Or did you loan  your coolest pair of designer jeans to your best friend (I didn't, because we were about six inches different in length ;) only to never see them again?  Ever lost a pair of Dr. Martens to someone who promised to return them the next day, and didn't bring them back til they were out of style?

Maybe you remember the very same parent who taught you to share and be kind scolding you for being so careless or irresponsible with your things.  Yeah that sounds familiar, doesn't it?  That reminds me of the "Don't talk to strangers, but SAY HI to everyone who approaches you in public" blog I've been meaning to write ;)

I guess what I am getting at, is that the best things we gain are the hardest things to lose.  The things we are proud of and put our hearts and money into that bring us the most joy are the ones that leave us feeling queasy when they are taken, lost or broken.

So the best thing to do is to take pride not in the things you have, but the accomplishements you make.  Don't be proud of the new dining room set you saved up for, be proud of the family who sits together for dinner.  Don't be proud of the new bike you bought for Johnny's birthday, be proud of the child you taught to ride it.  Don't be proud of the house you built, but of the home you created. Don't be proud of your designer clothes, be proud of your fashion sense (if it's good, ha ha).  Be proud of the things that can't be taken from you, broken, or lost, and that "good" side of pride will be much more rewarding.

Monday, September 20, 2010

The Case of the Missing Doritos

Chloe isn't what you'd call "sneaky."  She's usually very clear about her intentions, and even when she's trying to pull one over on someone, she often accidentally tells on herself.  For example, a few nights ago she found Bryan's phone in our bedroom. She then announced that she was going to take Bryan his phone and hide it behind her back to surprise him.  He was sitting only feet away in the living room and clearly heard the whole conversation.

She told me a month before Christmas that she was getting me the Perfect Brownie pan.  It was no secret.

If she wants something or needs something, she always asks, even when permission isn't required.

So today, when I left my Doritos bag on the couch to go start our grilled cheese sandwiches, I thought I was losing my mind when it disappeared.  I'm notorious for carrying things around the house.  You might find the remote on the back of the toilet, or in the fridge if I've had it last.  I searched high and low, then went into my bedroom where she was watching a Barbie movie.  She's a good "finder," so I was going to enlist her help.

Then I saw her, chin on her knees, munching on my Doritos.  :)  Little Stinker.

Friday, September 17, 2010

I have just ONE five Questions for You

It's Friday AGAIN!  Wowee this week went fast.  The upcoming weekend is sure to blow (sorry, lack of a better expression).  This is my first full weekend of work in three weeks.  Jodi is gone forever :( and I'm working all weekend with The Spaz.  My only comfort is that I am the motherlovin' ONE on Sunday (that means Spaz doesn't get to boss me around) and the hope of continuing a new Saturday tradition with Jaime.  Oh and a few super cool co-workers (to balance the super NOT cool ones).

Friday is my absolute favorite day.  It still has that feeling of Friday even though I no longer work a typical week.  It's the one and only kid-free night with my love, and it's out to eat night.  It's also usually a visit to Sheila's. Annnnnnnd it's also FIVE QUESTIONS!  Yay!

1. What is the first nightmare you remember?
Ohhh I still remember it SO vividly.  Before I had the dream, my little brother had fallen at the kitchen table and banged his noggin.  Out cold.  He was literally knocked out, and was only maybe two.  Poor baby bubby.  Anyway, he was fine, but after the incident, my mom told me if anything like that ever happened that I was to run to Lance and Linda's (our next door neighbors) and tell them and get help. 

When I went to bed that night, I dreamed that a witch came to our house.  It was the "typical" kid witch, with a pointy black hat and green skin.  She got my mom and tied her to the woodpile we had under the carport.  I kept telling her to let her go, but she refused.  The witch then hinged an axe to the woodpile and CHOPPED  my  mama almost in half.  Imagine a tree that has had a chunk sawed out so it will fall.  My mama came out of the carport holding her stomach, teetering on the little skin she still had.  I went running for Lance and Linda's, but halfway there I saw my mom fall down and die.

I was scared to go to sleep for weeks.  I know, morbid.  Since then I have always had nightmares night terrors when there was (good or bad) stress or change in my life.  My brother's incident probably sparked fear and stress in my little mind and POOF.  Weird scary dream.

2. Even if you're not a sports fan, what's your favorite sport to play/watch?
But, I'm not a sports fan.  I don't enjoy sports much at all.  I will tolerate the occasional football game or basketball game, but I'd rather not watch at all usually.

I did enjoy high school basketball, both when I attended and when I taught.  It's more interesting when the players are people I know, I guess.

3. If you could pull off one piece of trendy fashion, what would you want it to be (jeggings, hats, thigh high boots, etc.)?
Skinny jeans.  Simply because that would mean my legs are skinny if I was truly "pulling it off."  But I'm not much of a trendy girl.

4. Did you make good grades in school?
Mostly.  Grades came really easily to me (except for math!).  I could be pretty lazy with studying and make an A.  I am a good test-taker and I usually got my work done in class, so I didn't work very hard.  I pulled a 3.9 through high school, but probably could've done a 4.3 if I had applied myself.  But I enjoyed school, so that's what matters, right?

5. What magazines do you subscribe to?
I don't subscribe to any.  I used to get Parents and Cosmo (one my mom never approved of he he).  At one time I also got O on a regular basis.  
As a kid I got Teen and Seventeen (another one Mommy didn't care for).

Thursday, September 16, 2010

A Need to Belong

I remember sitting in my child psych class in college one morning when the teacher asked how many of us girls either had (or knew someone who had) ever had an eating disorder.  Almost the entire class raised their hands.  Then she asked how many of us had (or knew someone who had) been abused.  Again, a majority of the hands went up.  Then she asked how many of us had (or knew someone who had) been the victim of sexual misconduct.  Again many hands went up.

The cynic in me wondered how many of the girls were TRUE victims of these things, and how many were over-exaggerating a situation in their lives to gain attention.  Then again, I reminded myself about perspective and decided it didn't matter either way.  Everyone has been hurt or mistreated at one time or another.  Everyone has felt outcast at some time in her life.  Everyone has felt a need to belong.

I happen to need a little real-life research for something I'm writing, and I would LOVE for you to leave me a comment here to help out.  You don't have to sign in.  You can remain anonymous.  I don't track visitors or anything like that, so you're safe :)

So, if you would, answer one or all of the following questions, and be sure to correspond the number to your answer.  Pretty please?

1. Tell me about a time you felt bullied, or just plain left-out.  How did you deal with it?

2. Have you been a victim of abuse of any kind?  Would you consider it mild, moderate, or severe? Elaborate if you'd like.

3. Have you ever been mean to someone just for fun?  Did that person provoke you, or was it random?

4. Tell me something you've done to try to get attention (come on, we've ALL done it!)

5. What annoys you the most about other people's social behavior (ex. exaggerating situations, constant need for attention, people who are fake, people who are always sing-song happy, being calloused, cynical, etc.)?

Ok c'mon guys PLEASE give me some good stuff to work with here!  You can also leave your comments on Facebook if you'd rather, or you can e-mail

Thank you!

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


I've always had a pretty laid-back personality.  I like to kind of drift along in life and enjoy what comes my way.  I endure a lot, I don't get irritated too easily, and I'm not what I would consider 'judgmental.' I don't really have a problem with what other people do or how they live their lives, as long as it isn't negatively affecting me.  I'm kind of a peace, love, and happiness girl without the hippie soul. Que sera.  That kind of thing.

I realize that not everyone is like me.  Some people are wound a little tighter. There is nothing wrong with that, it just makes us different. But something we all have in common is the ability to put things into perspective.  And that's what I'm blogging about today, now that you've had a character introduction ;)

I remember as a teenager hearing adults say, "So-and-so doesn't even know what love IS."  My mom was one of those people.  So when my heart was bruised or shattered by the boy of the year, I didn't feel like my mom would understand.  I vowed then to try to understand other people, and not to become unrelatable with age.

My philosophy on that topic has always been, "...but that's the (best/worst) thing (he/she) has experienced up to this point."  A person of fifteen may not have the life experience in romance to know love from puppy love.  She may one day look back and laugh at the boys who she was once so fond of, but when she's in that moment, it's the only experience she has.  Her heart flutters, her palms sweat, and that's the MOST romantic love she's ever known. And when that boy decides to change direction, the pain and hurt she feels is the WORST thing she's ever felt.

Some people "rate" others' successes or failures based on their own.  If what you're going through isn't as wonderful or tragic as something they've experienced, you best not even talk about it.  I realize that someone who lost his legs in an accident would give anything to trade places with the guy whose "huge" problem is that he cut off the end of his pinky at work, but both of those people are experiencing the worst thing THEY ever dealt with.

The stay-at-home mom who feels trapped and suffocated in her (seemingly) perfect family endures heartache just as the wife who finds her husband cheating.  The mother who miscarries at six weeks feels emptiness just as the mother whose teenage son dies in a car accident.  It's not the same pain, but it's pain for both.

Just because we think our problems are "BIGGER" or "worse" than others, doesn't mean that person isn't enduring the WORST thing in his whole life.  Just because someone's success or love story isn't as grand as ours doesn't mean it's not the best thing to ever happen to her.  Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our own lives that we forget everyone hurts.  Everyone loves.  Everyone feels.  Maybe what would be a small problem to you is life-changing to someone else.  Maybe the bald chunky guy who gives you the heebie-jeebies makes someone else's life worth living.  You just never know.

So next time you're ready to tell someone to "suck it up" or explain to them something MUCH more awful/amazing that happened to you, grab some perspective.  Remember that no matter the cause, the worst hurt of your life is still the worst hurt of your life.  No matter the size of the success, it's still a success.  And everyone knows love.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Farm Boys, CDs, and my Molly

It's FRIDAY AGAIN!!!! YIPEEEEEEEEEEEE! And, I have Sunday off, so I will be getting some good family time. I'm getting spoiled, oh yes I am.

Anyway, since it's Friday, you know what that means, right? FIVE Questions. :) And probably lots of friend shout-outs.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere we go! (Know what song that's from?)

1. Do you feel guilty spending money on yourself?
It depends. Once in a while I feel all "deserving" of a treat of some kind, and I don't mind spending on me at all, however, I have been known to feel guilty about spending on myself.

Let's go back four years and some-odd months to my preggo self. I went on a lovely shopping spree at Motherhood, and got some super-cute clothes for my baby-bump. A couple of hours later as we were eating lunch in the food court, I suddenly felt as if I were suffocating. I couldn't believe the money I'd spent on clothes I'd only wear a few months! Nevermind the world was tired of seeing me in my over-sized sweater and size-too-big brown corduroys. I quickly tried to return some of the loot, but they have a very stern NO-RETURN policy...even when they KNEW I'd only been gone an hour or two. I then told the cashier (in no uncertain terms) that they were preying on vulnerable, emotionally unstable women and they KNEW IT. Attack of the psycho-preggo lady!

I think that's the MOST guilty I ever felt, but you get the picture. I'd always rather buy something we need (more) or something for Chloe.

2. How well do you know your neighbors?
Well enough to recognize them (and their vehicles) outside my eh, um, "neigborhood," and well enough I'd ask them for help if I were stranded on the side of the road, or running from an axe murderer in my home. Bryan knows them very well, I just haven't been here long enough to know everyone. Martha is the closest I come to "knowing" one, and although we haven't ever really spoken in real-life, we are totally Facebook friends, and we have a (not-so) secret posse :)

3. What age are you looking forward to being?
I'm not looking FORWARD to being any age. I believe twenty two was the best age, and I have chosen to remain there for the rest of eternity.

When Friends first came on and I was all of oh maybe fourteen, I looked SO forward to being (gasp) thirty, because they made it look sooooo cool. Now that it is quickly approaching, I scold my younger self for having wished it upon me. Darn you teenage Andrea!

4. Do you get excited when the mail comes? Why?
I don't anymore, because I KNOW there is nothing but bills and junk. But when I was younger, oh how I couldn't wait for the mail! This was before the age of Facebook, and even before e-mail was widely popular. This was when I met friends (and cute boys) at church camp and kept in touch via mail all year long.

This was when the mission farm produced oh-so-morally wholesome easy-to-look-at twenty-somethings and the teenage girls such as myself fell madly in love with them. They would, in turn, go back to their drug-dealing ways (with the love of Jesus in their hearts), and leave our tender hearts bruised. One, however, seemingly kicked his habit and moved to the Texas gulf coast. We always had a little emotional(ly unhealthy) attraction, and he kept in touch with me via snail mail. Ohhhhh the sweet letters I used to get.

This was also the time before IPods and digital music when I was a member of the BMG music club! I received such wonderful albums as No Doubt, Bush, The Nixons, Tori Amos, Matchbox 20, ahhh the list goes on and on. No such lovely things in the mail these days :(

5. What is your earliest childhood memory?
I think the earliest thing I remember from my childhood is the last Christmas with my Grandma Willa. There are pictures, but that's not why I remember it. I remember feelings.

My cousin, Molly, was a newborn baby, and I was all of two years old (almost three!) Grandma had been too sick to shop, but had asked someone to get us babydolls (I think). I got this life-sized baby-doll with blinky eyes. She was a great doll. But my cousin Misty got a Cabbage Patch, and BOY was I jealous! I didn't have any yet and that was a HOT item in those days!

Anyway, I named my baby doll Molly, after my super cute cousin. My grandma died in February after I turned three, and I became very attached to my Molly dolly. She was numero uno, and I didn't go to Lindsey's house, or anywhere over night, without her until I was um...maybe in fifth grade? I KNOW! But Lindsey understood. She had a baby, too ;) Molly is still with me (that's her today), now sleeping on Chloe's top bunk teaching all the newbie dolls how to roll!

I also remember that Grandma had a Cabbage Patch doll of her own she asked my grandpa to give me. I would say she knew I wanted one so badly, and she wanted me to have hers. I remember going to get it that day, and how Mom told me not to ask about Grandma, or the doll. Grandpa hadn't forgotten, though, and he made sure I went home with her. That baby's name is Willa Mae, and she's still in perfect condition, now sleeping on my mom's bed.

I think about these things often, and wonder what Chloe is keeping in her memory from these very early days. You just never know.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

This Too Shall PassIsn't Going Away

We have all had struggles in our lives. Some are large, some are small, some are in-between. Some are life-changing, while others are just a pain in the neck. Lately I have encountered a couple of rather major struggles. Without going into detail, they have taken an emotional and financial toll on me.

My natural instinct in times of trouble is to take care of it myself. It's what I'm used to, and I'm a bit hard-headed. I don't like to ask for help or admit that I need help. So when I finally swallow my (oh-so-hard-to-digest) pride and ask, I'm pretty vulnerable and desperate.

The situation I am in now is resolvable, but there are a lot of factors, and a few different possible outcomes. I need help. When I finally did express my needs to a couple of family members/close friends, do you know what their advice/help was? "Try not to worry about it."

WOW! Am I GLAD I asked YOU! I never ever would have thought to just STOP worrying about it!

There are a few people in my life who FRUSTRATE me. They think ignoring a problem makes it go away. If we don't think about it or talk about it, it doesn't exist. Just stop worrying about it. I'm not sure about you, but I don't seem to have conscious control of my worries.

Probably some of the best advice I've ever received was from a close friend of mine a few months back. She said to me, "Andrea, you can't keep ignoring this. You have to do something. This isn't going away." SLAP! Not what I WANTED to hear, but what I NEEDED to hear. She also went on to help me figure out what the solution should be and how I would handle whatever outcome was dealt. It was much easier to deal with once I had a plan and felt in control.

Why do we advise others to try not to worry? Is it because we don't want them to worry US with it? Maybe. Is it because we don't have the answer? Possibly. Is it because we don't care? Could be.

With my situation, I didn't need organs donated or large sums of money. I called on a family member who has some connections that could make things easier (and cheaper) on me. I called on someone when I needed a shoulder to cry on and dump all my anxiety to. Neither of those came through for me.

Basically what I am getting at is that we have all needed help at one time or another. So next time a friend comes to you and confides or explains a problem they are having, think about what you would need in that situation. If you can't give them what they need, I bet you could listen sympathetically, support them, and understand their worry and frustration.

Just whatever you do, PLEASE don't tell them not to worry. I'd say they already tried that one.

Friday, September 3, 2010

I Have a Creeper, and I Like to Pee Alone and Drink Cherry Pepsi

"I Have a Creeper"
We all have one or two, whether we know it or not.  I have a few.  I'm aware of it, but when it is blatantly thrown in my face, it freaks me out.  I considered ending my blog and deleting my Facebook, but I decided that I am not going to end my cyber-social life because someone else gets their jollies by nosing into my life.  I've said many times that I don't post anything I wouldn't want anyone to read.  I mean it.  I have no problem sharing the details of life that I post here.  What bothers me is people who know me, and maybe don't like me, reading and poring over every word I write trying to get any and all information they can about me.

I don't understand the motive, and I don't understand the purpose.  My life isn't all that interesting, though I try to make it blog-worthy at best.  These "creepers," when confronted, would tell you they don't give two flips about me or my life, yet they continue tracking me.  One person told me they knew where I lived and knew "everything" about me, and that they had found my boyfriend on Facebook.  OK?  Want a gold star?  His profile is private, so I'm not sure what information they obtained, but they are trying to bully me and I don't care for it.

I had a girlfriend who was cornered at a funeral and interrogated as to my whereabouts, my lifestyle, and all the goings-on of my life.  Did I mention this interrogation was by a self-proclaimed Andrea-despiser?  It's sickening to me.  I have moved on and away from Warsaw and its drama.  I have very FEW contacts there by choice.  It would be nice if those who supposedly want nothing to do with me would practice what they preach and butt out.  Move on with your life and let me live mine.

That was my rant.  Now here's my 5QF!

"I Like to Pee Alone and Drink Cherry Pepsi"

1. What do you do when you have time to yourself?
Until yesterday, I literally had NO time to myself.  When Chloe wasn't here, I was working.  When Bryan wasn't here, Chloe was.  The only time I may have had to myself was the hour or so on Saturday morning that I was getting ready.  The most wonderful thing about that hour was being alone in the bathroom.  A shower without the bathroom door bursting open letting cold air fill the room.  "Potty time" without someone walking in (and Chloe wasn't the only one) wanting to use the sink, or just chat. I can't tell you how many times I've said, "Is it too much to ask to pee ALONE?  Just two minutes in the bathroom alone."  So time alone in the bathroom is what I do when I'm alone.

BUT.  Now that Chloe is in pre-school, I have about two and a half hours each day all to myself.  Yesterday I walked two miles (how I've missed my walks!), watched Grey's Anatomy (UN-interrupted) and flicked to Girl Meets Gown on commercials.  No Yo-Gabba-Gabba, no bossy Ruby, no Backpack.  I also did laundry, showered (and kept ALL the steam in the bathroom) and put on (gasp!) make-up, something I NEVER do on weekdays.  I was very happy when six-thirty rolled around and all three of us were at the table discussing our days, but I did enjoy my alone-time.  I can definitely get used to it.

2. When you look out your kitchen window, what do you see?
I don't see another house, or a fat neighbor in shorts and tall-socks.  I don't see anyone creeping by, I don't see an old woman's bent-over ass.  I don't see stray dogs or over-grown bushes.  I see my car, and the random other vehicles that may be parked here.  I see the road, the field full of cows, and the barn.  I see trees up on the hill, and more fields of hay and cows.  Way up on the hill I see the church.  And at night, I see the stars.  I love it out here.
3. Who/What would you want to be reincarnated as?
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  I think I'd like to be reincarnated as a giraffe.  They're just  :)  I'd even take being a zoo giraffe and show off for little kids all day and eat crackers and stick out my long tongue at them :)
4. What is your biggest pet peeve about other people's kids?
I try not to get irritated with other people's kids, because I know that kids are just kids.  However, when we are talking about older children, I DESPISE disrespectful children.  I understand that kids can be loud, uncouth, and obnoxious.  It's their nature, and I am pretty tolerant of kids in general.  But I can not STAND when kids are blatantly rude, disrespectful, or foul-mouthed.

Where little kids are concerned, I get irritated more with the parents.  For example, if your child is screaming her lungs out in Children's Place, please do not continue shopping.  Please take your child from the store so the rest of us don't have a meltdown.  In that case it's not the screaming child who "peeves" me, it's the mother.

5. Regular or Diet soda?
Diet "SODA" ranks right around whole-wheat pasta for me.  Yuck.  Two things I SHOULD be using in my diet in place of their unhealthy counter-parts, but I just can't do it.  I will, on a rare occasion, get a Diet Coke if I'm at Casey's and needing a caffeine fix mid-day, but when eating out, which is about the only time I drink pop, I always go regular.  Fountain Pepsi, please, with cherry.  :)

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Her First Day.

In all my life, I never imagined the first day of pre-school to go like this.  I imagined myself crying as my first (and only) baby put on her big-girl clothes and went off to her first day of school.  I figured she'd cling to my leg, and that I'd cry all the way home.  It was nothing like that.

I woke to the sound of thunder and noticed, though it wasn't visible through the clouds, the sun had come up.  I rolled over and looked at the clock.  It was 10:30 AM.  Good thing we didn't have morning class!  I went into the living room and saw Chloe curled up on the couch watching the credits of Tinkerbelle (somehow when it storms at night ANYWHERE but her own bed calms her nerves).  "Is it morning?" she asked sleepily.  "Yeah," I said.  She smiled.  She knew it was her first day.

We got our lazy butts around and got ready, and headed off to school.  It was pouring rain, and we had all the first day supplies to lug with us. She was all smiles, though.
We went to the school and waited in the foyer for the teacher to come get the kiddos.  Chloe was very quiet and shy around the other kids and parents, but I knew she was bubbling on the inside.  When the teacher came, the children lined up, and the parents all followed with their yellow Dollar General sacks in tow.  Several parents crowded the doorway; some went into the room and led their children to the cubbies.  I stood back, as is my nature, and watched Chloe wiggle her way through the crowd.  She stood at the table where her teacher was trying to get everyone organized, and followed the directions to put her bag away and get a puzzle.  I felt bad not having said goodbye.  I scooted into the doorway and watched her grab a colorful balloon puzzle.  She looked up and winked at me.  I smiled and she said, "Bye, Mom!  See ya after school!"  I stepped to the table, kissed her cheek, and told her bye.  I squeezed past a bawling grandma and a picture-snapping mom.  I wondered if it was bad that I wasn't upset or hurt that she was going to school.  I started to feel guilty, but realized that I am happy for her.  I do miss her being a baby sometimes, but for the most part I enjoy watching her gain her independence and grow into a little girl who will all too soon grow into an adult.  I'm excited for her to meet new friends and start the journey of school.  I don't think badly of any of the mothers who let their babies go in tears, but I feel good about the relationship Chloe and I have, and I am proud to be encouraging her forward rather than trying to hold on to her baby days.