So... yeah, I'm slacking/sucking on the whole write/think thing. I would like to say awesome things kept me from doing the whole spew magical word out and stuff, but no... I just didn't do it.
Anyone want a rehash of what went down in a years time? No? Great! I'll tell ya anyway because I can.
Let's see last summer was crazy busy with softball and baseball games, BBQs, and the usual summer activities. Fall was full of excitement as my momma went through cancer and treatment. That brought us to Christmas. That's when my husband and I made some very tough choices and how to deal with them. The new year came and blessed our family with more cancer and treatments, only this time with my Dad being the lucky one. After both were "cleared" of the cancer cells and treatments were done, they (my parents) took us to Disney. Must say I'm not sure who was excited more... the kids or me. That trip was well needed and very fun. The expressions on the older faces were just as priceless as the ones on the kids. I watched my mom light up as she watched Dude meet Spiderman and as Evie walked through HoneyDukes. Dad was fun to watch at the beach. It was his first time in the ocean and awesome to be able to see him enjoy the sights of everything.
Many have wanted to tell us how sorry they are that we went through all this, but in all honesty... we're not. I don't mean we want to go through that kind of year again, but it wasn't as bad as it seems on the outside. I mean you hear cancer and instantly think "OMG! You poor thing!" and "how terrible" and blah blah blah. It wasn't like that. Once we listened to the chances, possible treatments, and everything, we all sat down and talked about what we heard/knew/wanted. We all came up with a treatment plan and knew what to expect. Were we all scared at one point? Yes. Did we all have a day where we freaked the freak out? Well duh! Of course we did and usually on different days so we supported each other. Our family bonds strengthened and faith was reassured. Mostly we kept each other positive. While doing all that we all tended to cut the outside world off and kept to each other. Made things easier and less scary. Now each of us are starting to get back into the social swing of things... have to admit, that is more scary than the cancer was.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Dishes and thoughts (this is very old)
I found this old post (note) on my fb page and thought it was just as good today as it was back in 10 when I wrote it. It was originally wrote on 10/21/2010... enjoy :) Very very LONG!
As I stood in the kitchen washing dishes, I began to reflect on different things today. Yes, I have a dishwasher and yes, it does indeed work. With that said, there is just something about doing this chore by hand that I find peace enough to talk to God and reflect on the choices I’ve made and the choices I’ve made for others in my life. I’m not sure what it is about this chore that relaxes me enough that thoughts flow through me like water from a faucet, perhaps its like the cleansing of the soul as well as the dishes. Never fails though, I feel better after a sink or two of dirty dishes.
Some days the “cleansing” is intense, massive, and quite frankly painful, but yet others are light, silly, and even whimsical. Everyone has a place or function they can be/do to have this same affect, and before you even dare say you don’t, you do. You just haven’t located or found it yet. My “safety zone” has always been my kitchen. I know, I know the old adage the woman’s place yada yada blah blah, but really that is where I feel the most comfortable, safe, and well free.
My thoughts today came from a few places; a phone call, a concerned friend, a blog post, and well another “runner.” I call us runners because lately we’ve been hiding, building walls, or straight out running away. Running from what or who? Ourselves!
The other runner is an amazing writer. She can put words into actions like an artist applies paint to a canvas. I envy her for this. If there was one thing I truly want to be better at (other than the outside appearance) would be this amazing communicating skill. Yes, it’s a skill. Some can be taught, while others seem to be naturals at it. She has the vocabulary that sparks interest, the choice of verbiage that makes even the most simple of phrases seem outstanding and awe inspiring. So I guess you would call this a gift that she’s been given. So in my dishes my thoughts float to her and her running and I am most grateful that she has “awakened” and found some peace within her.
Drifting in my thoughts comes another friend that took the time to call and find out why my distance from everyone is so prevalent and if I needed or wanted help. She didn’t mean that she could come over with a magic wand or with some new fandangled trick to make everything better, but she was simply offering a kind shoulder to lean/cry on, a box of tissues, and an ear to bend. She had no idea what was going on, but willing to help the only way she could, being a friend. Since finding her, my dear sweet friend, things usually get back into prospective with out the entire wall building and blocking. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t quite quick enough. There were no signs this time to see. This time things came too fast, too abrupt, too much, and hit me with a huge impact. I also had been reading some blogs at the same time which made me already start to reflect on some aspects of my life.
Two of these blogs came from a writer best known as Single Dad laughing. The first one was about perfection and the second was about breaking your child. These two blogs hit me hard. Way hard. I mean we all deal with the first one and the second really just goes hand in hand. The want and so call need for our children to behave ‘prim and proper’ 100% of the time in public. We all as parents have heard the people in stores with out children say things like “if that was my kid, I’d” (fill in the rest you’ve heard). So of course while reading these blogs I cried. No, correction, I bawled like a baby.
I started doing the whole good cop/bad cop routine and beating the crud out of myself. Asking things like; Do you believe you have the right to stomp on their hopes and dreams? NO! do you really think that you’re so perfect or special to deem them to be the same? NO! Who or what gives you the right to be the judge, jury, and executioner? Nothing gives me that. Just because you gave birth to them doesn’t give you the right to dictate who they are or will be. Yeah, this eternal beating went on for days. Ok, ok … weeks. More things were about to go way wrong in life than this simple banter.
At the time I was starting to reflect, my mother fell ill again. My Mom, the one person who knows EVERYTHING about me, my rock, the one that keeps me most grounded, makes things seem comfortable even when I don’t, and my very best friend. She was sick again and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could do to help but clean her house in anticipation of her arrival back home. So I cleaned her house and made it ready for when she could be home again. She is doing so much better now. She is home, safe, and doing well, where we like it (ok where I like her to be).
So my dishes were cleaned, rinsed, and drying on the rack when I somewhat “woke” up to realize that, no, I’m never going to be that perfect mom that I see some of my friends being, but I still get hugs, cards, love notes, kisses, and most importantly the “I love you, Mommy.” So I can’t be screwing up that horrible, I guess. I will never be that super pretty/popular mom that everyone flocks to for anything and everything from advice, to cooking, to the “OMG! How did you ever create that adorable________” (fill in the blank with whatever whatchamallit that was the hit of the class. So what am I then? I am me, just plain simple me. I am the woman with the two amazing, adorable, creative, energetic, polite, authentic, and loving children that love me no matter how bad I mess up. They are the best of me, and with any luck, very little of the worst in me. Would I say that I am an amazing person? Not in the slightest, but my kids are. Am I reliable, responsible, polite, charming, and fun? No, I’m not compared to my children. So am I a complete screw up? Not in the slightest, I have done at least two things very well in my life. May the Lord bless them more than he has blessed me, and believe me; I’ve been extremely well blessed.
Someone once told me that we never make mistakes, only discoveries. So may you make some fantastic, amazing, and horrific discoveries today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your lives. Sometimes what seems like a horrible mistake is actually the best and most amazing discovery of all time. So I guess I hope you screw up from time to time and make those amazing discoveries. :)
As I stood in the kitchen washing dishes, I began to reflect on different things today. Yes, I have a dishwasher and yes, it does indeed work. With that said, there is just something about doing this chore by hand that I find peace enough to talk to God and reflect on the choices I’ve made and the choices I’ve made for others in my life. I’m not sure what it is about this chore that relaxes me enough that thoughts flow through me like water from a faucet, perhaps its like the cleansing of the soul as well as the dishes. Never fails though, I feel better after a sink or two of dirty dishes.
Some days the “cleansing” is intense, massive, and quite frankly painful, but yet others are light, silly, and even whimsical. Everyone has a place or function they can be/do to have this same affect, and before you even dare say you don’t, you do. You just haven’t located or found it yet. My “safety zone” has always been my kitchen. I know, I know the old adage the woman’s place yada yada blah blah, but really that is where I feel the most comfortable, safe, and well free.
My thoughts today came from a few places; a phone call, a concerned friend, a blog post, and well another “runner.” I call us runners because lately we’ve been hiding, building walls, or straight out running away. Running from what or who? Ourselves!
The other runner is an amazing writer. She can put words into actions like an artist applies paint to a canvas. I envy her for this. If there was one thing I truly want to be better at (other than the outside appearance) would be this amazing communicating skill. Yes, it’s a skill. Some can be taught, while others seem to be naturals at it. She has the vocabulary that sparks interest, the choice of verbiage that makes even the most simple of phrases seem outstanding and awe inspiring. So I guess you would call this a gift that she’s been given. So in my dishes my thoughts float to her and her running and I am most grateful that she has “awakened” and found some peace within her.
Drifting in my thoughts comes another friend that took the time to call and find out why my distance from everyone is so prevalent and if I needed or wanted help. She didn’t mean that she could come over with a magic wand or with some new fandangled trick to make everything better, but she was simply offering a kind shoulder to lean/cry on, a box of tissues, and an ear to bend. She had no idea what was going on, but willing to help the only way she could, being a friend. Since finding her, my dear sweet friend, things usually get back into prospective with out the entire wall building and blocking. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t quite quick enough. There were no signs this time to see. This time things came too fast, too abrupt, too much, and hit me with a huge impact. I also had been reading some blogs at the same time which made me already start to reflect on some aspects of my life.
Two of these blogs came from a writer best known as Single Dad laughing. The first one was about perfection and the second was about breaking your child. These two blogs hit me hard. Way hard. I mean we all deal with the first one and the second really just goes hand in hand. The want and so call need for our children to behave ‘prim and proper’ 100% of the time in public. We all as parents have heard the people in stores with out children say things like “if that was my kid, I’d” (fill in the rest you’ve heard). So of course while reading these blogs I cried. No, correction, I bawled like a baby.
I started doing the whole good cop/bad cop routine and beating the crud out of myself. Asking things like; Do you believe you have the right to stomp on their hopes and dreams? NO! do you really think that you’re so perfect or special to deem them to be the same? NO! Who or what gives you the right to be the judge, jury, and executioner? Nothing gives me that. Just because you gave birth to them doesn’t give you the right to dictate who they are or will be. Yeah, this eternal beating went on for days. Ok, ok … weeks. More things were about to go way wrong in life than this simple banter.
At the time I was starting to reflect, my mother fell ill again. My Mom, the one person who knows EVERYTHING about me, my rock, the one that keeps me most grounded, makes things seem comfortable even when I don’t, and my very best friend. She was sick again and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could do to help but clean her house in anticipation of her arrival back home. So I cleaned her house and made it ready for when she could be home again. She is doing so much better now. She is home, safe, and doing well, where we like it (ok where I like her to be).
So my dishes were cleaned, rinsed, and drying on the rack when I somewhat “woke” up to realize that, no, I’m never going to be that perfect mom that I see some of my friends being, but I still get hugs, cards, love notes, kisses, and most importantly the “I love you, Mommy.” So I can’t be screwing up that horrible, I guess. I will never be that super pretty/popular mom that everyone flocks to for anything and everything from advice, to cooking, to the “OMG! How did you ever create that adorable________” (fill in the blank with whatever whatchamallit that was the hit of the class. So what am I then? I am me, just plain simple me. I am the woman with the two amazing, adorable, creative, energetic, polite, authentic, and loving children that love me no matter how bad I mess up. They are the best of me, and with any luck, very little of the worst in me. Would I say that I am an amazing person? Not in the slightest, but my kids are. Am I reliable, responsible, polite, charming, and fun? No, I’m not compared to my children. So am I a complete screw up? Not in the slightest, I have done at least two things very well in my life. May the Lord bless them more than he has blessed me, and believe me; I’ve been extremely well blessed.
Someone once told me that we never make mistakes, only discoveries. So may you make some fantastic, amazing, and horrific discoveries today, tomorrow, and for the rest of your lives. Sometimes what seems like a horrible mistake is actually the best and most amazing discovery of all time. So I guess I hope you screw up from time to time and make those amazing discoveries. :)
Keeping up with appearances?
It seems that after a certain
point in our lives we have created a stigma around ourselves that others have
come to know us only to be. If you were creative in school then you were arty
or crafty, if you had a knack for the theatrical then you could have been a
drama star/queen, or if you were sporty then of course you were a jock (if you
hung with them too), and those that study were nerds. Labels we placed on each
other throughout our lives and herding us into a direction that would shape who
we were not really caring if we possessed other talents. Once in a place/label
you start to then maintain your status and you get sucked into this mainstream of
thinking until it dawns on you that do not have to be that person everyone said
you were.
The problem with trying to change that is usually when someone else sees the change in you and decides that they don’t like whatever it is you are doing. Usually it is because they don’t like change or fear that you will leave them/their way of thinking, which they will try and convince you that it is wrong for you to do said change. Being that in their own insecurities they tell us how awful this change is but sometimes you are lucky and have a supporter that will be your personal cheerleader. Most of us tend to hang on to the words that are spoken to us. It goes back to the whole thing about “if said enough, you start to believe it” theory which does tend to happen more often than we would all like. I know that my four readers are saying “whatever, I’m a strong person and no one tells me what to think/say/do” but if you really think about it, we all influence each other daily. If you are constantly told that you are terrible at writing then guess what usually happens. Yup, you quit writing and don’t give it a second thought because you are positive that you suck at it suddenly. This goes with anything really (art, sports, parenting, the way you look, etc.). One of the things I try to keep in mind for my kids when saying anything because once the damage is done, then the whole attitude of just keeping up with what everyone expects starts to happen.
Perhaps this is why I personally don’t tell many people that I like to write. If I have one piece that is good, then they will probably be expecting more which I can’t honestly be sure to give them. OR they hate everything I write and beg me to please just stop. The less people truly know, the less I can disappoint and all I have to do is keep up with appearances that they do know about, and that keeps me in a safe bubble. Fear of rejection is huge in some decision making. The problem with doing that is clearly that you become unhappy with the status quo and suddenly need to stretch out (for lack of better words) those talents or you start to fall into a rut or downward spiral of self-destruction. Here is where it can get tricky because you can either share your talents or simply hide them away. Yes, I know that one of the four will no doubt be clawing her way to kick my arse because how dare someone not share their talents or think less of one-self. She is probably right and she does inspire people to be greater while accepting themselves for who they are (even though she needs to be reminded herself) so I can’t say I don’t deserve a beat down in that area, but it all goes back to self-preservation and keeping up appearances (this doesn’t just go with talents, but also with health, personal relationships, outward beauty, and just about anything really). How much do you hide to just keep up the status quo…
This is just some more rantings from a looney woman… :)
The problem with trying to change that is usually when someone else sees the change in you and decides that they don’t like whatever it is you are doing. Usually it is because they don’t like change or fear that you will leave them/their way of thinking, which they will try and convince you that it is wrong for you to do said change. Being that in their own insecurities they tell us how awful this change is but sometimes you are lucky and have a supporter that will be your personal cheerleader. Most of us tend to hang on to the words that are spoken to us. It goes back to the whole thing about “if said enough, you start to believe it” theory which does tend to happen more often than we would all like. I know that my four readers are saying “whatever, I’m a strong person and no one tells me what to think/say/do” but if you really think about it, we all influence each other daily. If you are constantly told that you are terrible at writing then guess what usually happens. Yup, you quit writing and don’t give it a second thought because you are positive that you suck at it suddenly. This goes with anything really (art, sports, parenting, the way you look, etc.). One of the things I try to keep in mind for my kids when saying anything because once the damage is done, then the whole attitude of just keeping up with what everyone expects starts to happen.
Perhaps this is why I personally don’t tell many people that I like to write. If I have one piece that is good, then they will probably be expecting more which I can’t honestly be sure to give them. OR they hate everything I write and beg me to please just stop. The less people truly know, the less I can disappoint and all I have to do is keep up with appearances that they do know about, and that keeps me in a safe bubble. Fear of rejection is huge in some decision making. The problem with doing that is clearly that you become unhappy with the status quo and suddenly need to stretch out (for lack of better words) those talents or you start to fall into a rut or downward spiral of self-destruction. Here is where it can get tricky because you can either share your talents or simply hide them away. Yes, I know that one of the four will no doubt be clawing her way to kick my arse because how dare someone not share their talents or think less of one-self. She is probably right and she does inspire people to be greater while accepting themselves for who they are (even though she needs to be reminded herself) so I can’t say I don’t deserve a beat down in that area, but it all goes back to self-preservation and keeping up appearances (this doesn’t just go with talents, but also with health, personal relationships, outward beauty, and just about anything really). How much do you hide to just keep up the status quo…
This is just some more rantings from a looney woman… :)
Friday, March 23, 2012
Goofy stuff we’ve all done, right?
Yup, that’s right…step out of your
comfort zone and admit that you have done a few of these things. Well, that is
of course unless you are not human or have no sense of humor and humility.
Let’s start out in the bathroom because that just sounds like fun.
The “Hot Water Dance”
This is the dance you do when you fill your tub up with warm water to soak your worries away or awaiting the soap to bubble up and whisk you away. Mr. Bubbles apparently no longer really does this and it is only achieved in fairy tales (dagnab that Cinder-freakin-rella). So you are thinking “ah yeah!” and you go into the kitchen, pour yourself a nice glass of wine, grab the ipod for some “mood music” (not saying the Marvin Gaye type) and revisit the tub. You don’t even stop to think about checking the temp because, well, you weren’t gone that long and it can’t be that hot, right? WRONG! Wrong, oh my effin’ that is super-hot, wrong! So you then do the dance. This is when you raise one foot out of the water and stand like a flamingo alternating feet and using some choice words that your mother would definitely blush at and Grams is about to make you eat that soap. Why don’t we get out of the tub and just let it either cool down or add cold water? Where is the fun in that? We do the dance because it has mystical and enchanting powers making us feel better while giving thanks that no one is there to watch you.
The Crazy-Towel-Wrapping
The moment you are singing your favorite Adele song in the shower, all into it like the rock star you are, and the doorbell rings or you hear a crashing noise so you feel compelled to go “check it out.” You then grab that towel that you can’t really see because the shampoo/conditioner/facial cleanser is in your eyes and you wrap yourself thinking that you have covered all the important parts all to go sneaking around to check out the problem. Well, you think you’re being sneaky. At this point things could go either way at this point (gratifying that you were indeed sneaky or horrifying because the mailman now knows what you really look like) and it wouldn’t really matter because shame has nothing on you at this moment. Own it, fess up to it, and wear that wonky wrapped towel with pride.
The tripping/stubbing of body parts
We’ve all done it, run into something and then say choice words because it really did hurt, but turn to see if anyone is looking. Cats and dogs do this … cats are calm, cool, and collective, like they meant to do that and handle it with dignity; however, dogs don’t care if anyone sees this because HECK YEAH, that hurt like hell. Most of us are in between with the hooting/hollering right after the fact and with the hoppy jumpy dance we do (cuz that’s the magic jig that will make things so much better) and then look around and play it cool if someone is watching.
Have kids? Lock the bathroom door!
That second that you finally get to use the bathroom in your own house and for a brief shining moment thinking that you get to 5 minutes of peace is shattered with the unlocked door syndrome. The kids have an alarm system build into this door somehow because if you go in, they want to know the answer to the question you have already answered 3 times before but they just want confirmation. Want to take a shower in peace? Too bad, that is usually when one of the kids busts in and wants to chat. You secretly sob because dignity, self-respect/worth, and personal boundaries no longer exist but no one knows because the water washes it away unless of course you are not answering in time and they pull back the curtain to make sure you are both there and listening. Yes, this has happened. May this be a lesson for all, LOCK YOUR DOOR! If by chance you did lock the door because you have already learned this lesson then perhaps you now have the little fingers coming up from under the door usually followed by the words “what ya doing?” to which you can’t believe that you are going to have the poop conversation all over again while quite possibly doing the deed. Yay! As they grow up this isn’t so much a problem anymore but you may want to padlock your toiletries for the issue of “sharing” or “borrowing” which is a whole new issue.
Be careful while have tea with someone that cannot reach the sink or that can’t quite cook on her/his own… think about this and use your best judgment (the patties are not chocolate which would lead also to perhaps the *tea*).
Sometimes it is best to go overboard with directions … watering the plants could mean that they now reside in your shower.
I hope you all (the 4 of ya) giggled a bit, agreed (some, don’t worry, no one will know), thanked the stars that it wasn’t you, and enjoyed today’s rant. I bid you good whatever it is (day, night, happy hour).
The “Hot Water Dance”
This is the dance you do when you fill your tub up with warm water to soak your worries away or awaiting the soap to bubble up and whisk you away. Mr. Bubbles apparently no longer really does this and it is only achieved in fairy tales (dagnab that Cinder-freakin-rella). So you are thinking “ah yeah!” and you go into the kitchen, pour yourself a nice glass of wine, grab the ipod for some “mood music” (not saying the Marvin Gaye type) and revisit the tub. You don’t even stop to think about checking the temp because, well, you weren’t gone that long and it can’t be that hot, right? WRONG! Wrong, oh my effin’ that is super-hot, wrong! So you then do the dance. This is when you raise one foot out of the water and stand like a flamingo alternating feet and using some choice words that your mother would definitely blush at and Grams is about to make you eat that soap. Why don’t we get out of the tub and just let it either cool down or add cold water? Where is the fun in that? We do the dance because it has mystical and enchanting powers making us feel better while giving thanks that no one is there to watch you.
The Crazy-Towel-Wrapping
The moment you are singing your favorite Adele song in the shower, all into it like the rock star you are, and the doorbell rings or you hear a crashing noise so you feel compelled to go “check it out.” You then grab that towel that you can’t really see because the shampoo/conditioner/facial cleanser is in your eyes and you wrap yourself thinking that you have covered all the important parts all to go sneaking around to check out the problem. Well, you think you’re being sneaky. At this point things could go either way at this point (gratifying that you were indeed sneaky or horrifying because the mailman now knows what you really look like) and it wouldn’t really matter because shame has nothing on you at this moment. Own it, fess up to it, and wear that wonky wrapped towel with pride.
The tripping/stubbing of body parts
We’ve all done it, run into something and then say choice words because it really did hurt, but turn to see if anyone is looking. Cats and dogs do this … cats are calm, cool, and collective, like they meant to do that and handle it with dignity; however, dogs don’t care if anyone sees this because HECK YEAH, that hurt like hell. Most of us are in between with the hooting/hollering right after the fact and with the hoppy jumpy dance we do (cuz that’s the magic jig that will make things so much better) and then look around and play it cool if someone is watching.
Have kids? Lock the bathroom door!
That second that you finally get to use the bathroom in your own house and for a brief shining moment thinking that you get to 5 minutes of peace is shattered with the unlocked door syndrome. The kids have an alarm system build into this door somehow because if you go in, they want to know the answer to the question you have already answered 3 times before but they just want confirmation. Want to take a shower in peace? Too bad, that is usually when one of the kids busts in and wants to chat. You secretly sob because dignity, self-respect/worth, and personal boundaries no longer exist but no one knows because the water washes it away unless of course you are not answering in time and they pull back the curtain to make sure you are both there and listening. Yes, this has happened. May this be a lesson for all, LOCK YOUR DOOR! If by chance you did lock the door because you have already learned this lesson then perhaps you now have the little fingers coming up from under the door usually followed by the words “what ya doing?” to which you can’t believe that you are going to have the poop conversation all over again while quite possibly doing the deed. Yay! As they grow up this isn’t so much a problem anymore but you may want to padlock your toiletries for the issue of “sharing” or “borrowing” which is a whole new issue.
Be careful while have tea with someone that cannot reach the sink or that can’t quite cook on her/his own… think about this and use your best judgment (the patties are not chocolate which would lead also to perhaps the *tea*).
Sometimes it is best to go overboard with directions … watering the plants could mean that they now reside in your shower.
I hope you all (the 4 of ya) giggled a bit, agreed (some, don’t worry, no one will know), thanked the stars that it wasn’t you, and enjoyed today’s rant. I bid you good whatever it is (day, night, happy hour).
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Welcome? Sir CrazyPants the plumber…
So I will now go into the
original ranting’s of the Adventures in whatever it was since we now have a
back story on the plumber now known as Sir CrazyPants.
As you know from the last entry, CrazyPants shows up unannounced and thanks to the Powers-that-be, he leaves and comes back later that same day. Being that at first the story is absolutely hilarious due to the crazy-lady-in-a-towel dance that I did to praying and trying to get dressed in a hurry, I thought I would share with a friend that was not having a good day. So I start to share the story with her and she indeed does giggle at/with me (sounds strange but trust me, it was funny). So he comes in with this other guy that I don’t know and goes to the bathroom. Turns on the light, stares at the ceiling for five minutes, and neither of them say a word to each other. The smaller dude (we shall call him the SaneOne) starts to mark and cut a hole out. What I hear from my living room went something like this:
CP: What are you doing?
SO: Cutting a hole. We need a hole, right?
CP: Yeah, ok. I’ll go get the ladder and stuff.
This is where my anxiety starts kicking a bit and I quickly IM my friend (who was having a bad day). I send a silent prayer that my hubby comes back from the gym early so that I can go to work without fear of my house being completely torn apart. S.O. goes out and starts going into the attic so that he can now wire a fancy-dancy new switch to operate my new vent/light. Cool. Wait, nope, not so cool as the conversation really sends me into anxiety overdrive.
SO: Hey, I think I’m in the wrong spot. Can you see me? (I’m thinking eff no he can’t see you, you’re in the attic sir flowerbrain)
CP: Nope, you should be good, keep going.
SO: No, I’m positive I’m not in the right spot.
CP: Just keep going. I don’t even see a hole.
SO: Seriously? I just hit something that isn’t drywall. I’m in the wrong place.
CP: You're in her pantry.
SO: How? I thought you said…
CP: Well I don't know but you're still drilling her pantry. Back it up. The ceiling is falling but you're still in her pantry. Try her again.
O.M.G! There is a hole in my pantry and he wasn’t going to tell me about it. WTF? I start to believe that there just isn’t enough vino in the world to ease me out of this new set of nervousness and distress, so I IM my writer friend and tell her about it. We then agree that there is not enough vino and that we should switch houses for one day. I commented to her about the blind leading the blind in my house and how I almost had a light switch for my bathroom in the pantry and she had arachnid issues (shivers just thinking about it) and publishers being pricks (hello, read the books first before you say no, a-holes). We declared the day a wash.
At the end of the morning I had a working vent fan that of course vented into MY ATTIC. Hello to another WTF moment. Sir CrazyPants then informs me that they will be back in a few weeks to fix the vent issue. Yeah, GREAT! So when does he come back you ask? HAHAHA! He got me again, that sneaky fartknocker, two days later and not two weeks. Crap! Here we go again with the whole “he’ll be back in 10 minutes.”
So this time when I come back upstairs I quickly open up the door so that the screen door is letting in some wonderful air while I go to the bathroom to finish getting ready (hair/makeup/brushing teeth/stuff) and I hear his truck pull up. No big, knew he was coming back anyway so I expected to hear the doorbell. NOPE! Sir CrazyPants just walks right on in like he owns the joint and gets into my kitchen before he thinks about yelling out “Hello?” and so I peer out of the bathroom going “umm HeLlO?!” and our conversations goes a bit like this:
CP: Yeah, we’re going to fix that little problem with the vent.
Me: ok, well thanks.
(now he is in my personal space and I’m thinking Oh no, don’t go there) CP: Well we should be done pretty quickly.
Me: great, well I have to get ready for work so I will let you get to work now. (he is literally staring at me for a few moments and then goes to work)
CP and SO leave a ladder unattended in my driveway and the wind gets hold of it causing it to gauge in my BRAND NEW door. Awesomesauce… Yes, he is paying for it, begrudgingly, but still doing it all the same. Needless to say, he will not be doing any more work at this house thanks to the shenanigans that happened this last few times. *Choirs sing “Hallelujah”*
I leave you with happy thoughts and blessings of a better day. I do have a very nice working vent/light in my bathroom with the switch in the bathroom so BLESSED BE! :)
As you know from the last entry, CrazyPants shows up unannounced and thanks to the Powers-that-be, he leaves and comes back later that same day. Being that at first the story is absolutely hilarious due to the crazy-lady-in-a-towel dance that I did to praying and trying to get dressed in a hurry, I thought I would share with a friend that was not having a good day. So I start to share the story with her and she indeed does giggle at/with me (sounds strange but trust me, it was funny). So he comes in with this other guy that I don’t know and goes to the bathroom. Turns on the light, stares at the ceiling for five minutes, and neither of them say a word to each other. The smaller dude (we shall call him the SaneOne) starts to mark and cut a hole out. What I hear from my living room went something like this:
CP: What are you doing?
SO: Cutting a hole. We need a hole, right?
CP: Yeah, ok. I’ll go get the ladder and stuff.
This is where my anxiety starts kicking a bit and I quickly IM my friend (who was having a bad day). I send a silent prayer that my hubby comes back from the gym early so that I can go to work without fear of my house being completely torn apart. S.O. goes out and starts going into the attic so that he can now wire a fancy-dancy new switch to operate my new vent/light. Cool. Wait, nope, not so cool as the conversation really sends me into anxiety overdrive.
SO: Hey, I think I’m in the wrong spot. Can you see me? (I’m thinking eff no he can’t see you, you’re in the attic sir flowerbrain)
CP: Nope, you should be good, keep going.
SO: No, I’m positive I’m not in the right spot.
CP: Just keep going. I don’t even see a hole.
SO: Seriously? I just hit something that isn’t drywall. I’m in the wrong place.
CP: You're in her pantry.
SO: How? I thought you said…
CP: Well I don't know but you're still drilling her pantry. Back it up. The ceiling is falling but you're still in her pantry. Try her again.
O.M.G! There is a hole in my pantry and he wasn’t going to tell me about it. WTF? I start to believe that there just isn’t enough vino in the world to ease me out of this new set of nervousness and distress, so I IM my writer friend and tell her about it. We then agree that there is not enough vino and that we should switch houses for one day. I commented to her about the blind leading the blind in my house and how I almost had a light switch for my bathroom in the pantry and she had arachnid issues (shivers just thinking about it) and publishers being pricks (hello, read the books first before you say no, a-holes). We declared the day a wash.
At the end of the morning I had a working vent fan that of course vented into MY ATTIC. Hello to another WTF moment. Sir CrazyPants then informs me that they will be back in a few weeks to fix the vent issue. Yeah, GREAT! So when does he come back you ask? HAHAHA! He got me again, that sneaky fartknocker, two days later and not two weeks. Crap! Here we go again with the whole “he’ll be back in 10 minutes.”
So this time when I come back upstairs I quickly open up the door so that the screen door is letting in some wonderful air while I go to the bathroom to finish getting ready (hair/makeup/brushing teeth/stuff) and I hear his truck pull up. No big, knew he was coming back anyway so I expected to hear the doorbell. NOPE! Sir CrazyPants just walks right on in like he owns the joint and gets into my kitchen before he thinks about yelling out “Hello?” and so I peer out of the bathroom going “umm HeLlO?!” and our conversations goes a bit like this:
CP: Yeah, we’re going to fix that little problem with the vent.
Me: ok, well thanks.
(now he is in my personal space and I’m thinking Oh no, don’t go there) CP: Well we should be done pretty quickly.
Me: great, well I have to get ready for work so I will let you get to work now. (he is literally staring at me for a few moments and then goes to work)
CP and SO leave a ladder unattended in my driveway and the wind gets hold of it causing it to gauge in my BRAND NEW door. Awesomesauce… Yes, he is paying for it, begrudgingly, but still doing it all the same. Needless to say, he will not be doing any more work at this house thanks to the shenanigans that happened this last few times. *Choirs sing “Hallelujah”*
I leave you with happy thoughts and blessings of a better day. I do have a very nice working vent/light in my bathroom with the switch in the bathroom so BLESSED BE! :)
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Adventures in ….plumbing?
Yes, this entry is all sir
crazyplumberpants but first a little back story for you. I am your typical
“Daddy’s girl” and “baby” of the family. I get into trouble, can’t figure my way
out, I call daddy and he helps me get back on track. Character flaw? Absolutely
but I own that flaw. Now that doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to do stuff,
it just means that sometimes I go WAY OVERBOARD with the things I do. Perhaps
this explains why I have as many jobs/volunteer for as many things as I do. I
could list them but quite frankly NO ONE CARES and that includes me (90% of the
time). Moving on with the back story, we had nasty metal pipes in the house
that needed “updating” and so I asked my Dad about who I should call to fix it.
He hired this guy he knew from a guy that knew this other guy that knew someone
that did that (see where I’m going with this here) and so we are using the
“good o’ boy” system. Meaning everyone else said he was ok also meaning “don’t
worry about it, Sis, we got this.” This guy comes into my house and starts
changing all the pipes which is exactly what I wanted, however, what I didn’t
want was the mess he left for me to clean up and ruined a BRAND NEW cleaning
bucket and didn’t bother to say a word about anything. He leaves, go up to the
bank and charges my dad for the “job well done” and goes on about his life
UNTIL I have to call him again because yes, you guessed it, they (new plumbing)
is leaking and not working quite right. He comes back and I may have made
mention loudly on the phone (hello passive-aggressive move) about how my new
bucket is ruined and I had to spend 2 DAYS cleaning up a mess only to find a
much bigger mess where the pipes were leaking. He then calls my dad and apologizes
to him and does nothing else about it. Yup, that is why I begged/pleaded/stated
my case against ever hiring this “good o’ boy” again. Should have worked right?
Nope! He was hired to fix something else, and then since I couldn’t get my
point across I started to hire my own guy to fix things…. Whom you might ask?
ME! I am woman; hear me curse like a drunken sailor all the while putting in
new shower fixtures, sinks and faucets, and pipes. That’s right, I CAN do this.
Well no, I can’t all the time…which is now where we are with the vent.
So we were going to hire out my uncle but apparently summer was vastly approaching and we needed this vent put in to avoid more problems that would occur from the moisture that collects/builds. My dad, God love him because I do too, was helping but temporally lost his memory about said guy because guess who was at my door to fix it. Yup, comes and knocks/pounds on the door unannounced… no scratch that, 3 weeks late. I was, of course, not expecting said man to be there at all let alone that particular day and so went on getting ready for the day as if I had the whole “school day” to do so. Yup, you guessed it, he came right as I was IN THE SHOWER! The nerve, ha! So I do that whole not-so-sneaky thing and wrap a towel around my body and peak around the corner of my kitchen to see the door and HE WAS LOOKING IN! Eek! Almost break a hip turning around to hide in what I’m sure is a not so safe place, but still send a silent plea to the Lord above. I’m sure it was something along the lines of: “Please, please, please make him go away for 10 minutes. I would be forever grateful. I will TRY to keep track of things better and be a better person/mother/wife/daughter. I would only like him to go away for like ten minutes, please Lord, I beg of thee.” I do believe it was the use of “thee” that I suddenly hear his truck start and peel out of my short driveway. I send another prayer and blessing to the Lord and run down the stairs (still sopping wet mind you) and dang near trip/slip/slide into the couch in the basement which hold about 3 baskets of clean clothes. It is noted not that when you want to find something in a hurry and in fear of another unexpected guest (hello, daddy knows code to get into house) you cannot find a single thing except your cell phone which is lighting up with notifications of a MISSED CALL from mom. Aw crap! I call her and am unable to control the panic in my voice and my anxiety is soaring. She calms me down and I get ready and await the guy to show back up.
Since this is super long, I will save you the details on this bloggityblog entry but go into details next entry. We do have a working vent in the bathroom.
So we were going to hire out my uncle but apparently summer was vastly approaching and we needed this vent put in to avoid more problems that would occur from the moisture that collects/builds. My dad, God love him because I do too, was helping but temporally lost his memory about said guy because guess who was at my door to fix it. Yup, comes and knocks/pounds on the door unannounced… no scratch that, 3 weeks late. I was, of course, not expecting said man to be there at all let alone that particular day and so went on getting ready for the day as if I had the whole “school day” to do so. Yup, you guessed it, he came right as I was IN THE SHOWER! The nerve, ha! So I do that whole not-so-sneaky thing and wrap a towel around my body and peak around the corner of my kitchen to see the door and HE WAS LOOKING IN! Eek! Almost break a hip turning around to hide in what I’m sure is a not so safe place, but still send a silent plea to the Lord above. I’m sure it was something along the lines of: “Please, please, please make him go away for 10 minutes. I would be forever grateful. I will TRY to keep track of things better and be a better person/mother/wife/daughter. I would only like him to go away for like ten minutes, please Lord, I beg of thee.” I do believe it was the use of “thee” that I suddenly hear his truck start and peel out of my short driveway. I send another prayer and blessing to the Lord and run down the stairs (still sopping wet mind you) and dang near trip/slip/slide into the couch in the basement which hold about 3 baskets of clean clothes. It is noted not that when you want to find something in a hurry and in fear of another unexpected guest (hello, daddy knows code to get into house) you cannot find a single thing except your cell phone which is lighting up with notifications of a MISSED CALL from mom. Aw crap! I call her and am unable to control the panic in my voice and my anxiety is soaring. She calms me down and I get ready and await the guy to show back up.
Since this is super long, I will save you the details on this bloggityblog entry but go into details next entry. We do have a working vent in the bathroom.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
The potential for snow = freak the freak out!
Today
was just like any normal day, wake up, and get the kids ready and yada yada
yada. That was all fine and dandy until the weatherman speaks. I don’t usually
hear the weather guys because I quit listening to him, I mean come on, and he
lies to me more often than he tells the truth. So I didn’t hear him say that
after a wonderfully gorgeous day yesterday, that today would be full of rain,
sleet, and possibly snow and got to work thinking all was well. I HAD a full
schedule when I walk into work which made me super duper happy and ready to
tackle the day. I had about an hour to “kill” before my first client came in to
which I started to get everything ready for her. Got the chair cleaned and
cleaned again, the tub sanitized (twice), and everything I needed to provide
the best service for her lined up. Cancellation after cancellation due to what “might”
be and right now it is only raining. Which just means that the stores will have
a surge in sales and I won’t be able to find the regular stuff I buy every
Thursday because of the “could be blizzard.” I figured why let all that go to
waste now that I have two open spots for pedicures, treat yourself, girlfriend,
you are entitled to it. So as I’m sitting here having my own little wonderful
pedicure, my mind wonders as it often does.
Love that word “entitled.” Yes, I do believe that it is over used and for many different reasons. An advertising company for instance, uses the word knowing that it will make the consumer think “that’s right, I’m worth it and I deserve it” and then they have you hook, line, and sinker. Congrats you have fallen prey to one of the most powerful advertising words out there. Want to know the others? They are easy to spot once you know what they are… FREE! Gotcha didn’t I? Yup, you guessed it, that is another and only two more to go, and I want you to know because you are a preferred reader. Empowered you there for a minute didn’t I with the whole “preferred” thing. You see it all the time, preferred customers only or get on our preferred client list. HELLO! Gimmick alert going off. Last one is guarantee because we all want to make sure we are getting the “best bang for our buck” so we all look for that word. Think about it, you go out to buy a car and you want warranties and guarantees to back up the products or you hear some sales pitch with the words “we will guarantee your satisfaction or your money back.” Wow that one line had two things fight against us, guarantee or it’s free?! Scary how often people (myself included) fall prey to that because there is usually some microscopic print that has a disclaimer for everything you could find fault with. Damn the luck.
So now my thoughts are wrapped around advertising and I have come to the realization that I have finished yet another rambling blog but also my pedicure. To think that when I started it, I couldn’t even decide what color to use and now that it is done and I don’t recall making that decision, my toes are done and quite charming, thank you. I bid you farewell for today or until I come up with another totally useless rambling bloggityblog blog. :-) Blessed be
Love that word “entitled.” Yes, I do believe that it is over used and for many different reasons. An advertising company for instance, uses the word knowing that it will make the consumer think “that’s right, I’m worth it and I deserve it” and then they have you hook, line, and sinker. Congrats you have fallen prey to one of the most powerful advertising words out there. Want to know the others? They are easy to spot once you know what they are… FREE! Gotcha didn’t I? Yup, you guessed it, that is another and only two more to go, and I want you to know because you are a preferred reader. Empowered you there for a minute didn’t I with the whole “preferred” thing. You see it all the time, preferred customers only or get on our preferred client list. HELLO! Gimmick alert going off. Last one is guarantee because we all want to make sure we are getting the “best bang for our buck” so we all look for that word. Think about it, you go out to buy a car and you want warranties and guarantees to back up the products or you hear some sales pitch with the words “we will guarantee your satisfaction or your money back.” Wow that one line had two things fight against us, guarantee or it’s free?! Scary how often people (myself included) fall prey to that because there is usually some microscopic print that has a disclaimer for everything you could find fault with. Damn the luck.
So now my thoughts are wrapped around advertising and I have come to the realization that I have finished yet another rambling blog but also my pedicure. To think that when I started it, I couldn’t even decide what color to use and now that it is done and I don’t recall making that decision, my toes are done and quite charming, thank you. I bid you farewell for today or until I come up with another totally useless rambling bloggityblog blog. :-) Blessed be
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