Easter Weekend

It has been the best weekend.  Steph is leaving for the UK in a few days, and she has her first resident visa, so it's going to be a while before she is home again.  She is promising to come for Cade and Bethany's wedding, but that is 13.5 months from now.  It's happy and sad.

Matt and Heather came down Friday night, and came over for supper and hung out until late.  We finished putting together a jigsaw puzzle that Steph has been working on for a while, and it was fun.  the kids ran all around the house and watched some movies and it was so nice having them here.  Colesen took a drink of my coke and rum and said "beer".  and then tried to drink it all.

Cade and Beth and Carson came on Saturday morning, and it's been so much fun having them here.  it was Bethany's first time seeing the new house.  We all went out to Floyd in the morning to ride the horses.  Cory needed a video of George because he is trying to sell him, because he just bought BlackJack.  So we took the videos of George, and Cory rode him around for a while.  Cade rode one of the donkeys, which was great.  He could barely keep his feet up off the ground, and the donkey was so mad.  She stood next to the fence and pouted for an hour after he got off.

Lamasigh was saddled up, and Cade and Carson and Beth all rode some combination of the horses.  Cade said he was like Zoolander, because he couldn't turn left.  Everybody else could turn left on the same horse, but not Cade.  We played Yakety Sax for a minute while he was riding, and it was perfect.

When we came back to the house, Cory had to run to Clovis for a gun.  I got another puzzle because Beth said she loved puzzles when she saw the one we finished on Friday night.  So Cade and Carson took naps on the sofa while Steph, Beth and I sat at the card table and did a puzzle.  Cade helped out with it some, but telling us how much he hated puzzles the whole time.  Carson was watching Lord of the Rings, and he went off on a whole thing about how he prefers two-legged dragons to four-legged dragons.  He just finds them more aesthetically pleasing, and it seems like a four-legged dragon trying to fly would be like flying a 747 with the landing gear down.  And he'd really like to see the 'Lord of the Rings - 200 years later' movie.  With airplanes and stuff, when the Orcs would be working in the mines, and the Elves are running everything.

Later when we had some grilled chicken to munch on for supper, Beth got to talking about the way Cade teases her and makes her believe stupid things.  He will say things so seriously, and sound so convincing, and then when you ask if he is serious he will say no while acting like he's saying yes.  He says that once her shower wasn't draining well, so he told her she needed a shower snake.  She says "Shower snake?" so he immediately says "yeah, there's a breed of snake that you can get at Walters, or at most hardware stores.  They go into the drain when you put them in the shower, and then they can't turn around, so they eat all the hair in the drain so they can get out." and Beth says "...I don't really want to put a snake in my shower...."

She says she keeps a list of the times he tries to do that to her.  Like the time she was looking at the thermometer just as they passed the state line, and it changed by a degree, and Cade tried to convince her that it changes at the state line like the time does.

when they were on a cruise with her family, her mother wonders aloud how fast they are going.  Cade says, "And there are oil derricks everywhere.  So I say 'that's easy.  Just hold your arm straight out until you're even with the oil derrick, and then start counting seconds."  So Beth's mom and brother are standing there on the deck holding their arms out, counting seconds.  So Cade says "Okay, so eight seconds.  Now multiply that by 12.5" and he shows how they screw up their faces, thinking, and he says "102,  Now, divided that  by Pi" (or something, I don't remember what he really used) and they think, and he says "32.  so we're going 32 miles an hour."  And they are all amazed, and he explains that he learned that in the Boy Scouts.  And Beth is standing behind them shaking her head.  When Beth tells them he is full of crap, her Mom says "But did you really learn cool stuff in the Boy Scouts?"  and he has to admit he was never in the Boy Scouts.  We laughed so hard that it hurt.

Beth told us horror stories about baby names.   Like K'Lia.  When they asked the mom how to spell that (while filling out the birth certificate) she says "K, then a 'high comma', L I A."  "I'm sorry.  what?  K what?"  "High comma."  "You mean an apostrophe?'  "Yeah, high comma."

And the baby named (phonetically)  Absody (spelled) Abcde.

It was just awesomely fun and wonderful to have them here. :)

Also, apparently Preslie now tells everybody that she loves Harry Potter and wants him to sleep in her bed.

Quilt update

So I wrote a post a couple of weeks ago, but then I guess I didn't save it, which about the way things are going these days.

I was saying how I noticed that it had been a year since I started the post about the quilt, and I haven't made much progress.  Of course, I have had surgery and a granddaughter and a son's wedding and all that since then, but still not much progress.

But I was inspired to do some work on the quilt.  I remember laying in bed thinking about it, and thinking I was done with the four big squares and I needed to figure out how to do the flying geese and combine them all together.  Then I went and got out all my stuff, and realized that I wasn't finished with the four squares.  I was finished with three squares, and I still had to finish the fourth one.

So I got all the squares matched up and sewed them together.  All 123 of them.  And I ironed them all out nice and flat and I was feeling awesome about it.  Then I laid the new square beside the other three squares and stopped feeling awesome.  They weren't the same size!  My new square is a good two inches bigger each direction.  OMG.  How did that even happen?  I didn't do 1/4" seams on the other squares?  Geez louise.  So I put it up and wrote a blog post and forgot to save it.

So today I decided to work on it again.   I just didn't have it in me to do that big square again, so I decided to do some flying geese and do the big square later.  So I figured out how to do it, and made one test one, then cut some more material and made a few more.  Ironed down the first squares and started to sew them together, and the needle fell out of my machine.

I've tried to put it back and I've tried a different needle, but I can't make it work. 

I'm going to read a book now.  I think I still know how to do that.

Under the sink

I don't know why he looked under the sink.  It is one of the mysteries of life, but he looked, and now we know.  We know about the leak, so now it must be fixed. 

Something looked wet, so he moved things out of the way and then he moved more things out of the way, and then he yanked up all the insulation foam that he sprayed around the pipes when he remodeled the kitchen, and there was a wet hose.

So I handed him paper towels, and he dried off the hose, and then he twisted a handle that I'm assuming should have turned off the water to that hose.  But it didn't do that.  No, it didn't do that.  I'm not totally sure what happened, and I'm not going to ask, but he said "Motherfucker!" and I could hear water spraying.

I couldn't SEE the water spraying, for which I am grateful, but there was water spraying under the cabinet and he had to go outside and turn off the water.

That made my next words somewhat anticlimactic, "Supper is ready", I say, almost apologetically.  I mean, I've been simmering beans for hours and I made some buttermilk cornbread and fried potatoes, but somehow the leak under the house makes that less awesome than it could have been in a leak-less kitchen.

But he ate, after saying there was no way he could fix this tonight.  So he ate.  And he sat down for probably all of two minutes.  Then he went outside with a shovel.  It's dark and chilly out there, but he doesn't wait when something is wrong.  It's not in his genes.

So he dug a hole, presumably; (I haven't gone outside to look, I'm just guessing what is going on my the sounds and my context clues).  He came back in the house and said "It's been leaking a while, by the looks of it." And he went back out.  Then he came back in with very muddy hands.  And he didn't say anything.

Nerve-ous ranting

Holy motherfucking fucking fuck this hurts.  I'm trying really hard not to be a whiny complainer; nobody wants to hear this stuff.  I'm even tired of hearing about it.  But DAMN, it just doesn't stop.  The surgery and the time in the hospital is mostly a blur; things didn't go awfully well for me.  I guess the surgery took about eight hours, and then the Doctor couldn't get the bleeding to stop; they had to give me blood three times.  Then I couldn't move my left leg for long enough that they were on their way with me to MRI and go back into surgery, but I started moving it, so that was good.

They left me in ICU an extra day, and then I got up and moved around a couple of times, and then I developed a pulmonary embolism and had to stay in bed for two more days without walking.  By the way, that's one of my worst fears, the pulmonary embolism.  That is what killed my Grandmother; she went into surgery to have her gallbladder out, got clots and died.  So I've always had this fear when I go into surgery.  Now it happened, but it was okay.  But I'm going to be uber terrified if I ever have to have surgery again.  And now I have to take blood thinners.

Anyway, hospital for way longer than planned, a brief stop at a nursing home which was HORRIBLE!  ugh.  But then home, and the pain.  The incision and the numb places and the muscles that got shoved around; my bones are in different places and it was hard to walk and it made everything hurt.  Hips hurt, knees hurt, ankles hurt...but that didn't really take that long to get bearable.  I mean, that was all basically what I expected and I had pain pills and I slept as much as possible and Cory and Steph took wonderful care of me.

But now the nerves in my left foot are regenerating.  I think I'd be okay with a numb left foot instead of doing this.  I am having a hard time handling this.  The pills I have don't touch nerve pain; the Doctor gave me another pill that helps some, but it's one of those epilepsy/anti-seizure meds and it makes me dizzy and weak.  And it only helps a little.  Of course, it has to build up in my body; it's not a pain pill that works right away.  But it should be built up now and it still only helps some.  I can't sleep.  The pain is worse when I lay down, and it gets worse when I'm tired, so it's this vicious circle jerk that may never stop.  I suppose at some point I'll get so exhausted I'll sleep.  right?  (btw, it is currently 4:20 a.m....I've been awake for two hours after sleeping for about four hours)

I just took a pain pill and a muscle relaxer hoping it will knock me out; and also my ankles are killing from all the floor pacing I've been doing. 


(days later....)  I was typing the lovely rant above, and I hit a button on my computer and lost it, couldn't find it.  Started typing it again, lost it...decided it wasn't meant to be and gave it up.  But then later I figured it was saved as a draft and sure enough, there it was.  Anyway....I'm better now.  Still having some pain in my foot, but it isn't unbearable.  The dr gave me a steroid pack that lasts a week that 'should help with the inflammation around the nerves' and I think it is helping.  I know after the first day of steroids I got out of bed and showered AND did my hair AND put on real clothes and make-up and went for a walk around the park.  So they are doing something.

The foot hurts if I move it wrong or wear a shoe, I'm keeping it wrapped with an ace bandage and it isn't too too bad, but I am ready for it to be over.  But apparently this can take weeks.  Or months.  (the horror!)

I'm just going to believe that it will be weeks; two down and hopefully not many more to go.  :)

So disregard all the ugly words at the beginning of this post; I survived and it's getting better all the time.  So yay.  right?

In 21 days I have back surgery.  BACK to surgery,  ha ha ha   I'm trying not to think to much about the actual surgery part; the whole anesthesia - puking - feeling groggy and stupid for days - incision pain and stitches and laying in a hospital bed and having no privacy and no dignity and all that stuff.  Trying to just let that go; it will be what it is and it's just something to get through.  My actual worry is that this surgery doesn't fix me. I've lived with this stupid back problem for eight or twenty years (depending on which particular problem you are referring to) with the thought in my head that if it ever gets too bad, I'll suffer through surgery again but "not until I have to".  Well, I'm there, and I have to.  But what if it doesn't fix everything?  then I'm just stuck in this hell with no light at the end of the tunnel.

This is a little like spending your last dollar on a lottery ticket.

wow I don't know whatI just did, but my screen disappeared into this tiny tiny little column.  I couldn't read this crap with a telescope!!!


Oh, apparently something like cntl+o is zoom, and I zoomed down to 10%.  ha ha ha  that was an entertaining few seconds.

Anyway, yeah; spending my last dollar on a lottery ticket.  21 days.

Vacation dreams

So many places to go, so many things to see, and so hard to find time and money...but we bought a new camper and have all kinds of ideas and intentions to take trips and see things and be places....

So I need to put some of the ideas together so we can make a plan.  right?

First trip after the camper gets here is for my birthday and we're going to Cloudcroft.  That's going to be awesome.  I've never been there, and I'm excited.  We can also go through Alamogordo and see the space museum and stuff, so lots of fun there.

But then, later...I want to go to Salado Texas.  There is the Stagecoach Inn there.  it is the oldest continually operating hotel in Texas.  To make that just a little bit cooler, the hotel was originally built by Thomas Jefferson Eubanks, who is my 4th great grandfather.  (Paulk line)  So I really want to see that.

And also, there's this house in Denison Texas; it is a Historic Museum because Dwight D Eisenhower was born there.  And I like Ike.  But also, that house was originally built by someone in my family.  I can't remember who right now, and I apparently don't have it notated on ancestry.com.  I know it's in my scrapbook, but my scrapbook is all the way over there on the shelf.  So far.  I mean, sure I can see it from here, and sure it's probably like an actual ten steps away, but I'm sitting down and I'm pretty comfy, so I'll figure out who built the house later.  But I want to go there.  (to Denison, not the bookshelf)

And to Flower Mound, Texas, where another ancestor started the Methodist Church.  And to Sulphur Springs where people who are my family did everything.  Everything!  Created the county, built the first buildings, shot the buffalo.  I need to see it all.  Maybe I could find out something about that mysterious great-grandmother of mine.

And then maybe someday we could get really adventurous and go to Louisiana (where my family built churches) and Tennessee (where my family built churches) and Massachusetts (where my family accused the neighbors of being witches).  And there is also Cory's family history strung all across the country too. 

And I want to follow Route 66, and go to all kinds of old forts and see every antique store in the world.  Well, maybe not every one in the world....but maybe 62% of the ones in 27% of the United States within a 836 minute drive of my house.  Or something. Some antique stores/junk stores. 

And Wyoming where the deers are, and Uncle Joe.  We have to go there for sure. 

Cory says we need to get a journal to keep in the camper to keep track of our travels.  isn't that a cool idea?  I love it!!!  gonna do it.

gotta go now.  Bye.

the story of a girl and her quilt

So my son's girlfriend messaged me on facebook one day and told me that there was this quilt she found in a catalog, and she'd been thinking about buying it for a while.  She showed the picture to two of my sons, and they both said "don't buy that!!  Mom can make that for you!"

That is SO sweet, that they brag about me that way, and I love that the girlfriend would prefer to have one handmade by me....and of course I said I would make it for her.

But it's a complicated pattern, and speaking of patterns, I don't have one.  So I have a picture to look at, and a brain to use.  I can do that.  I made a spreadsheet, cause you know, that's what I do.  So I determined the size of the finished quilt, counted the number of blocks across the quilt, made up a measurement for the borders, put a formula in the spreadsheet to see what size the blocks needed to be....and it might fit the bed when I'm finished.  Of course, there is also the small chance that the quilt will be of a size to slipcover New Jersey, but I don't think so.  *worries a little*

So I'm thinking I will keep up with my progress here.  I'm always thinking, after I finish a blanket, that I should have taken pictures of all the steps, but I never do.  So this time, I'm going to do that.  Not tonight, tonight I'm just going to write about taking pictures of the fabric that I will cut and sew and turn into a quilt...but I will take pictures and keep up with my progress, and possibly share this whole story with my kids and girlfriends when I am finished.

And just to state the facts clearly, as I did to Cory at the fabric cutting table at Hobby Lobby, "yes I know I'm insane.  I don't care." I BELIEVE I can do it.  I think. :)

That's all

My sciatic nerve is not my friend.

That is all.

Saving the post office

Yes, yes I am going to save the post office from bankruptcy…apparently.  It’s all because my daughter fell in love with a British guy.  He better be glad that I like him, cause otherwise I would make his life miserable for taking my daughter to England.

Now, in all honesty, I have to say that I am thrilled that she is getting the opportunity to live in England and travel and see things that I always wanted to see.  I’m also glad that I will probably get to go to England and visit; that will be awesome if it happens.  But in the meantime, I may go broke trying to mail things.  J

I mailed a package last week, she had a Christmas gift shipped here and I needed to forward it, so that was seventy something bucks.  Then today, I send her ‘momma loves you’ package.

 

I have been informed that there are no good pickles in England.  They make all of the pickles sweet.  Well, some people don’t like sweet pickles…some people like hot pickles and sour pickles.  Like my daughter. So I bought some pickles on line to mail her ( and I look back at my past self with an indulgent smile...poor little naïve fool).  And also, she hasn’t been able to find good cheese.  She says they have cheese, but it’s like CHEDDAR…on STEROIDS…that’s been stored in a SOCK.

And even though my son-in-law was in the background making various loud noises,  shocked faces, and hand gestures that all communicated (very clearly) that he thinks European cheese is superior in every way to American cheese, the fact is my  baby girl wants some American cheese.  And some hot pickles. And she wouldn’t really mind having some good tea.  Oh, that one almost caused a stroke; he has such attitude about tea. rofl

My favorite son-in-law story of all time follows:

We are in a restaurant having dinner.  My tea tasted a little old, but I wasn’t sure if it was the tea or if it was me.  So I say “Taste this.  Does this taste funny?” 

He says “All of your tea tastes funny.  I’ve tried so many kinds of tea, but none of them taste right.  I don’t know what lipton is, but they put it in all of the tea, and it just doesn’t taste good!”

I look, in shock, at my daughter, who shrugs (with an evil smile) and says “I just didn’t have the heart to tell him”.

So I struggled to maintain my composure and not bust out laughing, failed miserably, and said ‘’Honey, Lipton isn’t an ingredient, it’s the brand name.”

He says “oh.  Well, it doesn’t taste good”.  Ha ha ha  Good times.

 So, being the loving mother that I am, I got a box and filled it up with American cheese, and string cheese, and hot pickles, and tea bags.  And then I spent $70.00 mailing it.

$70.00 ……… for PICKLES!!

And that wasn’t even all the pickles I bought!  It was just the ones I could fit in the medium size box.  If I had mailed the whole box of pickles, it would have cost $99 and some change to mail it.  So that’s $43.00 for two cases of pickles, and let’s just call it $100 to mail them…*mumbles to self while staring at the ceiling*…43 and 100 is 143 divided by 48 is (mumble mumble)…pretty damn close to $3.00 per pickle.  And you know, some cheese and a couple of tea bags.  Unbelievable!

But that’s what love will do to you. 

Step two in my plan to save the post office:

Bring back writing letters.  Do your part!!!  Maybe send some “it’s not Christmas” cards.  Think how much fun it would be if everyone did it, and you started getting mail that was fun!!  You go to the mailbox, and there’s an envelope that isn’t a bill, or a piece of trash…it’s a note or a card from someone you love!  It will make you smile, and it help save the post office.  I’m pretty sure Ben Franklin would come visit you in your dreams if you helped me save the post office! And hey, maybe someday you’ll get a box full of pickles.  :/

 

 

 

Ancestry requires math

Here's the problem with genealogy: exponential growth.  Both directions.  You don't understand?  Would you like me to explain?  I'll do the easy part first.

So say you want to trace my family, although I don't know why YOU would want to trace MY family.  You should trace your own family.  But whatever; here is the problem.

So my mom and dad got married 55 years ago and then proceeded to have six children.  So you start the family tree with mom and dad, you add the kids and there are eight people.

Well, five of the kids got married (four of them more than once) and proceeded to have eighteen children.  So now you have twenty-six people.  Now the eighteen grandchildren are beginning to have children. So far, eight of them have had twelve children.  Well, honestly, seven of them have had eleven children, but give it another couple of months and there will be a new baby, so let's just call it twelve.

So in fifty-five years, the "family" has grown from mom and dad - to mom and dad and children and grand-children and great-grand-children, and those two people made a family of thirty-eight people.

That's manageable, right?  Sure it is. (until you try to get them all in a room together!) But I told you I was going to start with the easy part. 

Check this out.

You have two parents, right?  and each of them have two parents, so you have four grandparents.  And each of them has two parents, so you have eight great-grandparents.  I'm sure you see where I'm going with this.  If you go back very far, it starts to be a lot of people.  A lot of people.  A lot.  And if you try to keep up with aunts and uncles and cousins, it gets totally out of control.

So say you want to go back five generations, your great-great-great-great grandparents. You have thirty-two of those.  You really want to trace the family history?  You're lucky enough that there are records available to the early 17th century when they all came to America?  (That's when most of my family got here - the rest of them were already here.)  So call that ten generations, that is what it is for the branch of the family I just glanced at.  So the Sabin dude that moved here in 1620, he's my tenth great-grandfather.   If you were able to trace every single ancestor back ten generations, there would be 2,048 of them!  I might be related to every person that came to America in the 17th century...how many people actually came over here that long ago?

Want to be fancy and say you're descended from Charlemagne?  Help yourself.  You probably are; you and about a bajillion other people.  Also, you're descended from Charlemagne and the other 467 million ancestors of that generation.  Okay, I didn't really do the math because ... well...I don't want to.  But if you tried to go back that many generations, you would either be descended from the entire population of Europe, or there were some cousins doing things that cousins shouldn't do.

Okay, I just looked it up and if you go back 30 generations it is going to be over a billion people, but there weren't a billion people on earth, and there wasn't a lot of inter-continental travel going on, either. But there was a lot of uncle/niece, cousin/cousin marrying and baby making.

So anyway, that's one of the issues that is somewhat troubling.  And the main reason that I don't want to try and write it all down on pedigree charts.  Phooey on that.  Websites all the way!!  :)

Also, people on ancestry.com will just write down stupid things.  Like going all the way back to before the time when surnames were commonly used, and there's a guy (in Wales)  named James ap Owain, which means James, son of Owain.  Right?  But then whoever is writing this down doesn't know the name of the mother, so they write down "Mrs. James ap Owain".  Well, I don't really think that's accurate.  Just write down 'unknown'.  Honestly, at that time wives weren't referred to as "Mrs. Husband's last name" because husband didn't have a last name.  So don't make stuff up.

Norse history?  If your name was Eric Thorsson, it meant you were Thor's son.  And your wife was named Hildegard Sigurdsdattar because her father was Sigurd. And your kid will be whatever you name him Ericsson.

So the good news is you know who everybody's father was.  You don't know who anybody's mother was, but I can assure you there are no actual records anywhere that say the mother of Hildegard was Mrs Sigurdsdattar.  People annoy me sometimes. 

And....I'm kind of done talking about that.  Bye.

My son

I was just talking to my oldest son on the phone, and I'm a little bit teary-eyed.  He's falling in love, although I'm not sure he realizes it. I think I'm seeing the beginning of a pathway that is going to lead to me not being the most important woman in his life.  That's a good thing; I want him to have love and a family and all that...but I don't know this woman yet, so I'm a little apprehensive.  Jake is no fool, and he's not a child. He knows what he wants in life and he isn't afraid to tell people to go away and he isn't afraid to walk away, so probably it's okay.  But it makes me sad and proud to see what a wonderful young man he has grown up to be, and to see him taking his first steps on this new journey and knowing what a trip it is going to be.


And trust my child to test me.  He's falling for a woman who is five years older than him, a woman who is divorced, a woman who has two children.  Every motherly instinct in my body wants to tell him to run and find someone who hasn't already had a bad experience with love...but I can't do that.

I once WAS a woman who was divorced with two young children, and it didn't make me a bad bet.  I fought against a lot of prejudice from men and mothers who thought I must be looking for a daddy for my kids, that I must be looking for someone to support me financially, that I must be desperate to latch onto any man that would stand still, but that was never the case.

From what I understand, this young woman is "such a good mom, just like you are.  She takes such good care of her kids and she doesn't NEED anybody to help her."  I can only hope that is true.

Bottom line is this:  I don't care what road she's been down or what block she's been around.  I care if she loves my son and treats him right and if she wants to join him in the life that he has chosen.  I hope he doesn't fall in love and give up his ideals or give in at the first sign of trouble.   It's hard enough to be married, it's even harder to raise children.  It's incredibly hard to start out marriage with children and deal with the other parents and all that goes along with that.

But who knows.  He isn't one to get in a hurry.  I may look back at this two years from now and laugh.  But I heard words and emotions from him tonight that I've never heard in 26 years, and I think he's taken a few steps in that direction.  We shall see. 

At least he isn't going to move to England, like my daughter!!!!!  Which is a whole different story.  We'll get to that someday.

The Fountain of Middle Age

Sometimes, like right now, I feel like a total failure.  Sometimes I feel okay, but not right now.  I am going to try and lay out a list of facts with no emotion.  I'll get to the emotion.

I am a woman who is forty-nine years old.
I have been married and divorced twice.
I have had a few other relationships that were all the same and ended the same.
I have four children, who I raised on my own, with very little help but a great deal of criticism from their fathers.
I have had nine jobs in my life.
I have owned eight cars in my life.
I have never owned a house.
I have burned a lot of bridges, sometimes before I was completely across them.
I have several very good friends, and I rarely talk to them.
I am currently in the best relationship of my life, with the man that is better than all of my dreams.
I have some health issues - some beyond my control, some...not so much.

Now, to more subjective issues:

I have always considered myself slightly above average looking.  I don't anymore.
I can be witty and charming.  I can be boring and one step away from catatonic.  I can carry on an intelligent conversation, and I can go for hours without speaking. I can be very giving and generous; I love without reservation.  I can be very selfish.  I have thoughts of things that I should do for people I love, but I fail at turning that into action.

I have raised four children by myself, and they are all wonderful people, with various problems and idiosyncrasies. They are all employed and self-reliant, I consider that a win. I worked and paid the bills and cooked the meals and attended plays, award ceremonies, parent/teacher meetings, baseball games, hockey games, soccer games, basketball games and tennis matches.  I watched practices and skateboard competitions; I was the president of the PTA, I was the room mother, I was on the Little League Board of Directors, the Athletic Booster Club, the Band Boosters, and the Orchestra Boosters.

Sometimes I think that I used up all my energy in the 27 years that I was raising my kids, and now there is nothing left.  Sometimes I think that if I would get off my fat ass and lose about forty pounds, a lot of my medical issues would cease being issues, and I would have more energy to DO things.

But then sometimes I think maybe this is just what it feels like to be fifty.  I don't know.  What does everybody else feel like?  How are you supposed to know that?  Does everybody struggle to shower and get dressed every day?  I mean, some days I just want to stay in my jammies.  Of course, that is a problem because I don't wear jammies - but the concept is the same.

I just don't always feel like I am being the person I should be.  Somewhere down the line I became this person that I don't always recognize.  I'm just so tired.  Not sleepy, tired.  Tired.  Tired.

What is keeping me awake tonight is I am feeling a little overwhelmed by my general unworthiness in life, and wondering why my ever so fabulous boyfriend wants me.  Or how long he'll want me.  I don't feel like I deserve him anymore.

Now, what is stupid about this is that some of the more tangible things that make me feel unworthy are totally under my control.  Like, for instance, I have this terrible tendency to be a slob.  I can leave dishes in the sink for three days while having the best of intentions of doing them in just a minute.  More than half the time, he does them, and he doesn't complain a bit.  But it makes me feel like crap.  So why don't I just get up and do the damn dishes?  So I'm tired.  So it makes my back hurt a little bit.  And?  Do the damn dishes!  Clear the clutter off the bathroom counter every now and then.  Quit putting your clothes in the bedroom floor.  There's a hamper in the bathroom.  Right? 

And you know, get on the bicycle or something and lose some weight.  He deserves so much better than how I look right now.  But I feel so helpless, somehow.  Overwhelmed.  It's just so much easier to sit on the couch and stare at the TV; play a game on my phone; read a book.  I just want things to magically fix themselves while I'm sleeping.  Is that so much to ask?  Yeah, yeah, I know.

So whoever said that life was fair?  Or easy?  As hard as I worked all those years when I had kids....I wouldn't have to do half the work now, but it didn't hurt to do it then.  :)  This aging thing is for the birds. 

So I should go to bed and get some sleep.  I should get up tomorrow and finish the laundry and clean the kitchen and the bathroom.  I should go ride my bike, and drink water instead of Dr Pepper.  I should keep a positive attitude and DO things instead of thinking things.  Doesn't that sound easy?  Sure it does.

And it might happen.  It might. Or I might sleep for twelve hours.  Again.

I meant to start with a bang....

This may ramble a bit, but I have all these things running through my head and I need to say them.  Also, I know that six months from now I won't remember most of this, so this is my memory.  :)

First, so far the week has been a little rough.  Not in a whiny "please give me pity" sort of way, but in a "help me laugh at how ridiculous my life is" kind of way.  So Sunday I started getting a sore throat.  Not a huge surprise, as approximately 73.605% of the people I know are sick right now, and one of them *cough Jenny cough* was at our house for Thanksgiving, and apparently shared a little too much.  HA  Anyway, so I was getting a sore throat.  Then I woke up in the middle of the night nauseous, and spent about five hours going to the bathroom every 45 minutes to do very unpleasant things.

On one particularly memorable bathroom visit, I fainted, and face-planted onto the floor and gave myself a concussion.  So Monday I didn't work, I made the mistake of calling my doctor, hoping he would say "You fall if you lean over, and when you are laying in bed, if you turn on your right side you feel like you are falling?  That's nothing to worry about.  Just rest and watch a few more hours of Gilmore Girls.  You'll be fine."  But no.  Of course he insisted that I go to the ER and get it checked out.  So after spending seven hours in the ER, getting a CT scan, two bags of IV fluids and two huge -- I mean choke a horse HUGE -- potassium pills, I get to come home and get very little sleep and then go to work.

So today, I have what I am pretty sure is bronchitis, I'm losing my voice, my throat hurts, and I'm very grateful to have ONLY bronchitis.  Honestly, once the concussion wears off, life is all good.  LOL

So also, I just have to say this.  I said it earlier to Stu, but I want to share.  (explains the title)

         I meant to start my week with a bang, but I accidently started it with a THUD.

(pause for applause.  and groans)

anyway, I don't care what you say; it's okay that it took me two days to come up with that!  I had a concussion!!! 

But that's not what I came here to say.

I came here to say this.  I would like to share my list of my top few favorite purely physical sensations.

Don't stop reading...it's okay...there are rules here.  I don't mean emotional moments that can be confused as physical; the sweet, sticky hug and kiss of a toddler, the passionate (hopefully non-sticky) embrace and kiss of a lover, any kind of sexual activity at all....because in my life, at least, there is all kinds of emotion attached to that.  I'm talking p.h.y.s.i.c.a.l.

Like, for instance, sinking down into a perfectly heated hot tub at the end of a long day.  It is just hard to beat that.  It's a little chilly in the hot tub room, and the water is perfect and bubbly and the tub is comfortable...and feeling that wonderful warmth all over is just SO amazing. I sink down into the water, and let my body adapt to the heat...and then I reach over and turn the motor on, and the water starts moving, and it feels good all over again.  *sighs*  Hot water does not get nearly enough attention in our world.  We take it so for granted, but it is the best thing ever.

 Or slapping the snooze button, and curling up under the covers for a few more minutes, after feeling just a second of that cold air that's waiting for you out in reality.

A really good foot rub, having someone wash my hair..which is usually followed by a cut and style....all good things.  Sitting by a fireplace reading a good book. 

Now, I realize that some people might argue that perhaps the sensation of flying down a mountain of snow with little boards strapped to your feet is more exhilarating, or racing a car or jumping out of a plane or something that requires an adrenalin rush -- but I'm simply not that kind of girl.  Give me a recliner to watch the leaves fall, a slow drive through the country, a comfortable chair and a fireplace, and for the love of all that is holy, give me a hot tub.  :)  I'll be happy forever.

And just for the record....I would rather have Cory than the hot tub....but that isn't what we're talking about here. 

More words

Current mood:annoyed

responsibility

professionalism

sacrifice

thought for the day:  How do the LACK of these qualities make a person the perfect employee?

 
 

(answer for the day:  Duh!!!  they freakin DON'T!!!!!)

 

Note to Myself

hey, this is a note to ME!!!  Why are you reading it?

 

remember these words for future posts:

nepotism

frustration

idiocracy  (ha...that movie is less and less funny all the time)

pandemonium (since Tom probably doesn't like the word clusterf*** as much as I do)

incompetant

unbelieving

uncaring

pointless

tortuous

alcoholism

catatonic

homocide

also, research various types of mental illness...refer to the physicians desk reference for help diagnosing current mental status....maybe there's a pill?

 

• ask Karmen and Brandi about therapy options.....
  go to the strip...buy more rum.  
  make appointment for pedi.
  buy more rum
  check on price of houses in cancun area
  buy more rum.......
  oh goody, the pizza is here!!!  c ya

The Word of the Day

Current mood:aggravated

Demoralizing

1.  to deprive a person of spirit, courage, discipline, etc.  Destroy the morale of (the continuous barrage demoralized the infantry)

2.  to throw a person into disorder and confusion;  bewilder  (we were so demoralized by that one wrong turn that we were lost for hours)

3.  to corrupt or undermine the moral of

Okay, no one has corrupted or undermined my morals.  At least not lately.....but I have been deprived of my spirit and courage.  There is no discipline.  I'm disordered and confused.  I'm a little bewildered.  I'm thinking of giving up.

 
 

and I'm only exaggerating a little bit.

Check back tomorrow for the truth about 'nepotism'.

 
 

It’s only a headline, people!

Current mood:annoyed

It isn't my philosophy of life.  It's a one-liner that probably made me laugh.

Better a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.....not a philosophy of life, I just think it's funny.  I don't drink very  much.  I mean, I enjoy a drink now and then, but I do not use alcohol to solve my problems.  I use Lortab to solve my problems.  HA HA HA  See, that was another joke. Get it?

 
 

And my latest headline?  Sex is not the answer.  Sex is the question.  Yes is the answer.

I think it's funny.  It's phrased in a very witty manner that is pleasing to me.  It made me chuckle, so I thought I would share it with the world.  IT DOES NOT MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A SLUT!!  My mini skirt makes me look like  slut.  (are you picking up on the jokes yet?  Have you GROWN a sense of humor?)

 
 

Anyway.  If you are interested in hearing my philosophy of life, we'll have to get together sometime and discuss it over some kidney beans and a nice bottle of Chianti.  The highlights are below.

 
 

Sex is fun.  I like it.  But it is not something I partake in randomly or with men that I don't care about. 

Relationships do not have rewind buttons, so you should be careful with them.

Alcohol is like salt.  A little bit is a good thing.  It can add some flavor to life.  Too much is bad, and it ruins your taste.

If you pass up an opportunity to do something that you aren't sure about, you'll probably have another opportunity later in life.  If you DO something you aren't sure about, and you end up regretting it, you can never undo it.  Or, as my Mama says more succintly, 'when in doubt, don't'

Another gem of wisdom from my mother?  "if there's a problem everywhere you go, chances are good that YOU are the problem"

And now, trying to sum up my philosophies for you, suddenly Mac Davis singing "I Believe in Music" is running through my head. 

 
 

Music is love and love is music if you know what I mean
People who believe in music are the happiest people I've ever seen
So clap your hands and stomp your feet and shake those tambourines
Lift your voices to the sky; tell me what you see.

Music is the universal language, and love is the key
To peace hope and understanding, and living in harmony
So take your brother by the hand and come along with me
Lift your voices to the sky, tell me what you see.

I believe in Music.  I believe in Love.

 
 

and I'm not a slut, no matter what my headline says.  K?  k. cya

Pondering

• Mar 21, 2008
  

  Current mood:aggravated
  

  I think I have it figured out.  Something that I've always said as a joke isn't a joke at all.
  

   
   

  Follow my logic here.
  

   
   

  The problem:  I've had a headache pretty consistently for the last two weeks.  It won't go away.  I've taken a bottle of Motrin.  I've slept for hours on end.  I've soaked my body in a tub of hot lavendar scented water...with a rag over my eyes to block the light.  I've tried drinking...and not drinking...eating...and not eating.  It will NOT go away.
  

   
   

  The possibilities for cause:  I've been a little sick.  My throat hurts.  The weather is weird...you know how the change in temperature can affect your body, right?  Maybe it's a tumor.  (It's NOT A TUMAH!!!!!)   Stress?  The good old standby, stress?
  

   
   

  My hypothesis:  Stupid people make my brain hurt.
  

   
   

  So, the good news is I know WHY I have the headache.  The bad news?  Not a damn blasted thing I can do about it.
  

   
   

  I'm going back to my old headline.  Better a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.
  

My new iPhone

• Feb 2, 2008
  So, here's how this works.
  Today my ex-husband bought me an i-phone.  No, really.  He did.  I don't know why...probably the beer he had at lunch contributed.....but he did.
  I mention this mostly because he told me I should say something on myspace about my ex buying me a phone and I told him I would and he said I would not and you know how those conversations go....but I have to prove that I'm right and he's not.  So ...I guess I'm done with that part now.  LOL
  Anyway, so I'm incredibly jazzed about this and way excited to activate my new phone so I go rushing right to a computer, and
  i find out that the version of itunes I have isn't good enough.
  it doesn't support the iphone.  so i have to download a newer version of itunes.
  okay.
  so i go to download a newer version of itunes, and i find out that the version of windows i have isn't good enough.
  it doesn't support the newer version of itunes.
  so i go to a different computer that has a newer version of windows and a newer version of itunes, and i hook up my phone, and it doesn't work.  i get some weird message about my sim card.
  wtf?
  so i call the guy that sold the phone, and he says that it's definately an itunes issue and i need to talk to the iphone support people, so he calls them for me.
  of course, i waited on hold for a while to get the at&t guy, and then i waited on hold for a while (a long while) to get the iphone guy, and he looked around at some stuff and told me that i'd have to talk to the at&t people because they didn't capture my serial number to my account or something.
  so we called them back, and waited on hold.  naturally.
  and they said that they can't activate my phone because it's a business account.
  now, i would like to point out that when the phone was purchased, it was done so with the clear understanding that it was for a business account.
  and when you open the screen in itunes to activate the phone, it asks if it is a personal account or a business account.
  but NOW they say that you can't have an iphone on a business account.
  so I'll have to change the name on my account before I can activate my phone.
  and i said 'fine.  do it' and they said, 'well, you have to call the business center'
  so we called the business center.  but they were closed.  so now I have to wait until monday to activate my phone.
  this sucks.
  this is the coolest thing I've ever had in my life, and all I can do is look at it.
  i want to play with my phone.
  damn.
  first the chick last night didn't have the stuff I wanted in inventory and now I can't activate my iphone.
  I have a lot of new toys and nothing to play with.
  :(
  poor me.
  (LMAO)

This Week

Current mood:adventurous

Yeah, just a typical week in the life of Kathy.  Ha ha ha ha ha.  (not really)

So last Friday I took a day off work, and drove to San Angelo with Nikki to see Aaron Watson and Zeb.  We stood in line for so long we almost missed Zeb, but we saw the end of his show and we stayed at the same hotel with Aaron, so that was fun.

Saturday it took me ALL DAY LONG to drive home from San Angelo.  I actually stopped in Big Springs and rented a room to take a nap.  Pitiful.

Sunday I never got dressed.  I was a lazy bum all day and I loved it.

So Monday night I went to Girls Night Out at the Cactus with Brandi, and stayed out until the wee hours of the morning making friends with new people and getting reacquainted with some old friends.

Tuesday I came to work feeling the effects of Monday night.  :)  Tuesday night I got a call from my daughter because she was driving down the road and the wheel fell off her car.  I hate when that happens.  She's okay, so I'm okay...but her car isn't so good, and the guard rail that she hit has some new scratches.

Wednesday I cooked hot dogs for supper.

Thursday I saw the Ten Tenors and loved 'em.  Especially that cute blondish one.  And now it's late Thursday night and I'm working and tomorrow I will sleep late then I will work some more then I'm going to a FUN party at Brandi's....then probably out til the wee hours again.

I'm not sure whose life I'm living in, but it doesn't seem like mine.  :)

 
 

It's just weird....for one thing, I never cook hot dogs.  ???  What's up with that?