Me, My S.E.L.F.™ and My Weblog

Oh, Waiter, as in someone around here with some PATIENCE!

2008-07-29T22:49:00.000-06:00

Well, hhhmmm, stepping back to analyze my lack of recent entries, I would have to surmise that:

blogging from this crappy laptop on a nightly basis from the middle of wireless he-- has proven to be more of a challenge than I (my lazy self) anticipated. May I have some cheese to go with this wwhhiinnee?! Basically, I just can't tolerate the keyboard, and the multiple disconnections. Another refill to the top of my whine glass, please!

Don't read me wrong - I have so TOTALLY appreciated this time away from reality (I return to my real home in the central mountains of Laundry, ID, on Friday). I have had a lot of solitude, stretched out in 60 second intervals between daughter/son/daughter/dog/daughter/son/husband/those highly annoying dishes that magically redirty themselves/daughter/dog interruptions. Please tell me that you other blogger moms out there can appreciate a STRONG desire for just 30 MEASLY MINUTES in a row??!!

You'll have to forgive my complete lack of patience - this has to do with my perfectionistic tendencies. One would never in a million light years guess that I am a perfectionist, especially if one were to judge my house-keeping abilities, or the blatantly obvious lack of. I am the all-or-nothing type of perfectionist, which means I spend an exorbitant amount of time doing, you guessed it, nothing. You know, if you can't do it 'right', why bother?

Perfectionism is just really fear in disguise (a real ugly, ill-fitting one, I might add). Fear of judgement, criticism, failure, etc., etc., etc. Mostly, the fear of not being good enough. So, if we are constantly trying to use the tape measure of the Martha Stewart mentality, the Supermom Syndrome, do you think we always measure up? We cannot airbrush away our imperfections, so we should try a little harder to embrace them.

Yes, you read me correctly; I said, embrace your imperfections, which means loving yourself in spite of them. I may be getting a wee bit of inspiration from Keira Knightly (recently refusing to bump up her cup size in publicity photos). However, I have let my all-or-nothing attitude keep almost 50 extra pounds on my frame since I had our first child, which has now been over 12 years ago, so I think my excuse meter has expired!! I have let my perfectionism get in the way of some much needed healthy weight loss (waiting for the ideal conditions to start the perfect exercise program backed up with the perfect diet), and I have to hope that I haven't realized the error in my thinking too late.

The older I get, the more I realize how little I know, which has been good kindling for this whole blog idea. As many mistakes as I've made it my life thus far, I should have a roaring inferno blazing here in no time.

Whoever Dreamed Up Webkinz Must Be Smiling In Their Sleep

2008-07-24T01:35:00.003-06:00

I had to laugh at my daughter tonight (well, from my obviously biased position, she is always saying something adorable; that is, when she is not always saying something argumentative). Chatter-boxing her way right past her bedtime during her usual attempt to stay up later, she launches into a lengthy commentary describing all the new Webkinz creatures coming out next month (if you're not a parent of a seven-ish year-old child, you don't even want to know - they are like Beanie Babies meets Neopets meets the last remains of your piggy bank).

Then she says to me, "I'm mad at myself." And I say, "Why is that?" And she says, "because I haven't been having any dreams lately." This conversation catapulted me back to a memory retold to me by my sister of when I was about five years old. My sister told me she came down the stairs one morning and I was sitting under the kitchen table talking to myself, so of course she had to listen in without making her presence known.

I said to myself/the other me, "Did you have any dreams last night?" And the other me replied, "No, I didn't." I again said, "Are you sure you didn't have any dreams last night?" And the other me retorted, "I already told you, I'M SURE I DIDN'T HAVE ANY DREAMS LAST NIGHT!" Evidently this developed into quite a heated argument, until my sister could no longer contain her volcano of laughter.

She teased me relentlessly for years, one of her many obligatory duties as a big sister.

I've thought often about this funny story, and the importance of dreams, both the subconscious kind and the goal-oriented kind, and how they are interrelated more than we realize. There's the practical side of me that shies away from the concept of dream interpretation or analysis, and then there's the curious part of me that is utterly fascinated. I guess both of these parts of me were sitting under that kitchen table some 35 years ago. Either way, I believe God speaks to us through our dreams, and I've been having some pretty interesting ones since I started to get reaquainted with Him. I plan to do more research, invest more thought, and blog more on the topic in the near future.

Your thoughts? Dreams? Nightmares? I welcome all comments, with the exception of Freddie Kruger's.

Lucy, I'm Home! Well, Kinda Sorta, Not Really

2008-07-23T01:24:00.002-06:00

Hello, my loyal and lovely readers . . .it's so good to be back! Sorry for my web absence - my family is in the Federal Witness Protection Program, and we suddenly had to relocate....again, but we are pretty much getting settled in after what makes the third move this year.

Ha! Did I getcha for a half a second? One definite fact about my life - it has never played out like a mystery novel, but my whereabouts these last few days have appeared a bit mysterious. Not intentionally - I just have some, to name a couple, really annoying habits: forgetting to communicate effectively, and losing track of time. But I'll get to that in a minute . . .or 30. Truth be told, I lived in the same house until I was eighteen, so when I moved dorm rooms twice within my first year of college, I almost had to ask for directions. So much for my veil of mystery . . .

When I FINALLY was able to log back onto my blogspot and saw that there were comments (Gasp! Comments?!) I had to look back over my shoulder a few times to make sure there wasn't some other blogger there whom you were talking to. You all missed me.....really?! Thank you, thank you! I feel like Sally Field at the Oscars (her first infamous speech, NOT the 2007 infamous speech), only not as blubbery-eyed and not nearly as well-dressed. (Can jeans and a stained T-shirt come anywhere near the definition of well-dressed?! I better call Webster before the next revision comes out. . . we need to talk. Just keep me away from that what-not-to-wear crazy duo, and that Entertainment Tonight - ahem - 'guy', and my wardrobe can continue to live out its peaceful non-existence.)

Now onto where I have been for the last ten days......and where I actually still am. I have never been very adept at making a long story short, and I am also really bad at explaining details of complicated situations, so here's my nutshell attempt:

After what felt like a rather impromptu pow-wow between my husband and myself, the four of us (and the dog) are staying at a cabin in the woods that we purchased several years ago as an investment (it's been a rental all this time). We are now trying to sell it (for one, because we can no longer afford the payment) which is why we are here. Of course we tried the realtor route first, because who has the time to do everything yourself, but after nine months of that NOT working, we decided we had no choice but to try to sell it ourselves. And in case any of you have been living under a rock instead of a residence for the last couple of years, that teenager known as the real estate market has been behaving very badly; and doesn't like to cooperate with desperate sellers. This is as short of a story as I know how to make it, although there are about a million other mundane details jumping up and down in the background, shouting "pick me, pick me!"

So, my husband had to pry my reluctant blogger fingers loose from my computer keyboard (but what will I do, how will I survive?!) and after a painful separation (from my computer, NOT my husband! Miscommunication is one way ugly rumors get started, so just thought I'd clarify) we temporarily relocated to the cabin in the woods. (I know what you may be thinking . . . only an insane person would weigh the options between life at work or life not at work, but this is just me).

I was jittery at first, but I knew I would relax once we were here. And setting aside the huge mound of predictable guilt that I naturally heaped upon myself for taking a break from my 'real' life, I am secretly loving this! (well, secret from anyone who does NOT read my blog, which I guess would be the population of the entire globe minus five. However, it is the quality of my readers that I care about, not the quantity - I love you guys!)

In amongst playing board games with the kids and chew games with the dog; reassuring several of my family members that I have NOT lost my mind nor am I experiencing a mid-life crisis (I've never felt so loved); and washing dishes by hand (a welcome reprieve from my dishwasher addiction); I have been doing a lot of reading. Yes, actual reading, instead of wishful reading. Somewhere in the last decade I misplaced my love of reading, so I am so happy to have found it again! How I will ever read all I intend to catch up on is beside the point.

So yesterday, we had a wonderful, marvelous, miracle of modern technology installed, one of them thar fancy-dancy phone lines with some of that high-speed DSL, and I am now DSL (Dancing Strange Like). Barring an explosion of this ancient laptop, or a power outage (had one of those already today as a result of a freak storm), I will be back to blogging every night, um, early morning. We won't be here too many more days as there is only so much we can do, and then the cabin will sell or it won't sell; that part will be in God's hands. Meanwhile, I could pretend to be a famous author summering at my cabin, but the movie Misery ruined that fantasy years ago. Thanks again, Stephen King; you always know how to scare the crap out of me.

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog . . .

2008-07-11T13:15:00.003-06:00

{Insert cuss words} - just when I was starting to build a little reader momentum, I'm going to need to be offline (unexpectedly) for a few days. (EE yi yia - I'm experiencing computer withdrawal symptoms already). I'm also experiencing technical difficulties with my email server for the first time in over a month. COULD THIS BE A SIGN??

Mucho thank yous and appreciation to the new readers that have been dropping by - I WILL be blogging again soon, so please keep checking in.

A'LL BE BACK <~~~~ please excuse my lame Ahnold impersonation.

Sanity Resumed - For The Moment

2008-07-11T01:58:00.013-06:00

Okay, I have not, until now, had a blog entry turn into three blog entries . . good grief, Charlie Brown!

Today I found the book that I had misplaced. Well, um, er, it was . . . (if I could make my font half as tall right now, I would).....on the bookshelf where it was supposed to be.

If I would have slowed down long enough to look right in front of me, I would have found it much sooner.

Coincidentally enough (!), one of the excerpts that I've been wanting to share has a lot to do with this topic of slowing down.

Out of eight short but extremely profound essays in her book, Gift From The Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh devotes one to the importance of solitude. Here is just a bit of it:

"Actually these are among the most important times in one's life - when one is alone. Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone. The artist knows he must be alone to create; the writer, to work out his thoughts; the musician, to compose; the saint, to pray. But women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves: that firm strand which will be the indispensable center of a whole web of human relationships. She must find that inner stillness which Charles Morgan describes as 'the stilling of the soul within the activities of the mind and body so that it might be still as the axis of a revolving wheel is still.' "

Later, she goes on to say:

"With our garnered free time, we are more apt to drain our creative springs than refill them. With our pitchers, we attempt sometimes to water a field, not a garden. We throw ourselves into committees and causes. Not knowing how to feed the spirit, we try to muffle its demands in distractions. Instead of stilling the center, the axis of the wheel, we add more centrifugal activities to our lives - which tend to throw us off balance."

Okay, she wrote this in 1955 (reprinted in 1975 and 2005 - she passed away in 2001) -before our 24/7 world, before the Internet, before our array of electronic appendages, before the existence of a soccer season! Some of us assume life must have been so simple for a mom in the 50's, but I think this struggle with setting aside 'me time' has been going on since the beginning of time itself.

Oh, I could go on and on.......hhmmmm......maybe this is going to turn into four entries. I have more side dishes that I want to serve with this appetizer of thought, but I desperately need to be still right now in my cozy bed, so I will leave you with a morsel to chew on:

In my daily battle for sanity and balance, if I manage to start off my morning in prayer, instead of a fist fight with my snooze button, my entire day goes SO much better. How about you?

"The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still." Exodus 14:13-15.

Has Anyone Seen My Sanity? It Was Here Just A Minute Ago . . .

2008-07-09T22:15:00.012-06:00

Oh, but of course......when I reached for my book "Gift From The Sea" tonight to expound upon Anne Morrow Lindbergh's simplistic wisdom,

I - COULDN'T - FIND - IT .

Okay . . . DEEP breathe; resume normal nostril positions; unclench teeth, jaws and forehead muscles - Botox is NOT the answer.......

The disappearance of 'things' is an infuriating yet admittedly common occurrence in our household. One can only randomly select from a multitude of possible scenarios:

- My husband could have 'borrowed' it. He's proven to be an expert at not only misplacing his own things, but also at misplacing my things so I don't have to bother.

- The scent-obsessed canine of ours could have decided that it tasted better than his bone, and buried it secretly somewhere in the backyard. If I find this to be the case, then he will be a gift TO the sea.......

- One of the kids may have absconded it, thinking that it was just the perfect size for a doll bed, a Hot Wheels ramp, or a snack plate.

- I may be the one who-dunnit for all I can remember - it has been one of those kind of days.

It's a really good thing I'm sticking to my vow to keep this an expletive-free blog, or the swear words would be a-flyin'!

Fruits of the Spirit, Fruits of the Spirit, Fruits of the Spirit.......

One problem is - I have too many books. Now this might lead you to believe that I read a lot, but this is just a clever disguise for my 'someday' habit. It's like I think if I surround myself with books, then I can absorb their contents via osmosis, and to begin magically writing them as well.

Hhhmmm..............what do you think, Dr. Phil?!?!

Another problem is my allergy to housework, but we'll get to that later.

Heavy sigh. . . I know the book will turn up (probably tomorrow) and hopefully still be in one piece. What I find mind-boggling is the amount of time and energy that can be completely wasted searching for 'things' in the single course of one day. Time and energy burned in a bonfire of frustration and exhaustion. Time and energy that could be put to much better use. Like sleeping, for example, instead of rantin' on my blog.

A Gift From the 50's

2008-07-08T22:50:00.012-06:00

I spent the better part of today in a complete funk. I became so disillusioned with reality by our mini-getaway in the woods that I am having major difficulties returning to my 'real' life.

First, I bemoaned our current complicated existence, and languished over thoughts like "why can't our lives be lived out of a suitcase every day?" Compact and neat, limited space, only the essentials.

Like what I preach to my kids on a probably-too-often basis: "You get what you get, and you appreciate it!"

The funny thing is (as in ironic funny, not ha-ha funny), this is how our kids feel, too. My seven year-old daughter said, "I would rather have it this way; you know, without all that electricity stuff", and my twelve year-old son said, "can't we just move here for the summer? At least for a month, anyway?" Bless their sweet, sweet, innocent, wise-beyond-their-years hearts. I love my children more than life itself.

While on our retreat from real life, I 'stumbled' upon a book at the local thrift store, a hardback for 50 cents. I almost forgot that I bought it, until I went looking for something to lift my fog, and remembered it was still in my suitcase. I read it tonight, in its entirety.

"Gift From The Sea" by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, first printed in 1955, and reprinted in 1975, is stunning. So much wisdom and insight packed into a few pages. I will share some tomorrow night.

Reentry Is Rough

2008-07-07T21:55:00.008-06:00

We just returned from camping, so please allow me some time to recover from the spa-like effects of two full days in the mountains. A dose of peace and solitude that large is unnerving. Literally. I have been deprived of my nerves. I was so relaxed that I actually laughed when some impatient driver passed us in the canyon on the way home, instead of screaming obscenities out the car window. (Oh, but I'm just using that as an example, because I've NEVER done that before.)

So I'm just going to ignore the Everest-sized stack of mail and the jumbled heap of bags and boxes piled inside my front door. Until tomorrow, my lovely.

I'm also waiting until tomorrow to read the news, so I don't have anything new to complain about. Yet. So check back tomorrow. I do wish that my Idaho manicure had lasted longer, but my marshmallow tips are no more.

God Bless America, and God Bless S'Mores!

Part Dog, Part Alien

2008-07-03T00:31:00.016-06:00

Now, for something on the lighter side . . . let me introduce you to Rodney, our rat terrier, better known as our canine pogo stick. We have very few clear photos of him since he usually operates at the same pace as a small tornado.

Yes, I know, I know - you're thinking, oh, great, she's going to stoop to the old 'she has nothing to write about so she's going post pictures of her DOG' trick. This seems to be a contagious blogger phenomenon.

But come on, he's just so dang cute.

Rodney, the wonder dog, able to leap small children in a single bound, and wipe out small countries with a single swipe of his tail.

As an added bonus, if you ever want to hire a hit dog, he will lick your target to death in a matter of minutes.

The only payment he'll require is a squeaky toy.

Oh yeah, and you'll have to throw it for him for eight continuous hours A DAY.

FOREVER.

Or his alien host will take over and abduct your children.

He is SO worth the effort. He has brought a tremendous amount of much-needed joy and laughter into this household ever since we robbed a bank and bought him for our son a little over a year ago. (Okay, so we didn't really rob a bank - just to set the record straight for my police officer brother).

How is it that a puppy from a classified ad in the newspaper could cost so much? My first puppy only set my parents back 10 bucks! Like I said, though, the payoff on our investment has been priceless.

I hope he mellows out enough in his later years to take him around to retirement homes - if any dog can put a smile on your face, it's Rodney, and these people need as many smiles as they can get. If he doesn't make you smile, than he will draw one on your face with his saliva.

I can't imagine living a truly-fulfilled life without a pet. I would love to hear about yours!

Coffee Crisis? Starbucks Closing 600 Stores

2008-07-01T18:23:00.015-06:00

I decided to give my brain a break and lay off of the blogging tonight. However, I can't help but point out this ABC News article that I read this morning.

The article gives some scary validity to my comments in the last couple of weeks about our country's Starbucks mentality - the land of too many choices. Click on my title above, or on the link below to read the rest.

http://abcnews.go.com/Business/story?id=5288740&page=1

Speaking of rest, I'm gonna go get some of that.

A Little Bedtime Story

2008-06-30T23:55:00.039-06:00

The story I'm about to tell, I tell for a few reasons:

1) to remind myself how wonderful my husband CAN be, even as I chisel his left-behind, peanut butter-encrusted table knife loose from the kitchen counter; and close the doors to the cupboards, the microwave, and the dishwasher (love you, dishwasher!) which he left open - AGAIN

2) because I like to tell stories with a moral, and I'm better at writing them than I am at narrating them, and . . . .

3) to remind you all that dreams CAN be achieved, as long as you never give up on yourself.

Oh, so much for leaving the moral for the end - I never said my name was Aesop!

(Yikes, I just realized how often I do this 'number list' thing - I must have taken one too many multiple choice exams in college.....)

Which round-a-bout brings me back to my story:

One day, long, long ago, a little farm girl (that's me) dreamed about earning a college degree. So........many dorm-room parties, several apartments, a thousand roommates, one switched major, many part-time jobs, one full-time job, one back surgery, one wedding (my one and only, thank you very much), and eight and-a-half years LATER........she finally did it.

Are you all still breathing, because if you forgot to breathe while you were reading that last long, drawn-out sentence, you might be turning blue around the lips.

Well, the second semester into those eight and-a-half, mind-numbing years, she met the man that was to become her future husband. (Yeah, he's the peanut butter guy - love you more than the dishwasher, sweetie!)

This gave them a lot of time to create dreams together, and dream about those dreams together, and talk about those dreams together; which resulted in a lot of conversations that began with: Someday we're going to do this, and Someday we're going to do that.

On the day that she (the farm girl, which in case you forgot, is me) finished her last college class FOREVER (at least I sure as heck hope so), her partner-in-dreams gave her a gift.

What was the gift, you ask in breathless anticipation?

(Here - I'll add some more spaces to build the mock suspense)

It was . . . .

a T-shirt.

Now I know what you're thinking because it was the same thing she was thinking, until she unfolded it.

The message that he had custom-printed on that T-shirt?

TODAY

SOMEDAY

Yes, he is a keeper, that husband of mine, and so is that T-shirt. A few months ago when our finances started to turn really ugly (think the evil-queen turned old-witch in Snow White kind of ugly) I found that T-shirt in a box in my closet, and it is now displayed proudly on the wall above my computer, along with a poster of a board game that my sister was in the process of creating, to inspire me and motivate me to quit procrastinating, to continue dreaming, to keep writing, and to never give up.

Another item hangs besides my computer, a dog-eared piece of paper covered in Scotch tape that's been hanging there for over three years. It reads:

I can do all things through Christ who gives me the strength. Philippians 4:13

Some days I feel incredibly weak, like giving up and throwing in the towel, but these reminders help keep me going. And trust me, I still have a lot of somedays:

Someday we're going to pay off all of this debt on our own
Someday I'm going to experience uninterrupted joy in my life
Someday I'm going to travel, and spend more time with family and friends
Someday I'm going to organize all of my kids' baby photos - good grief; my oldest is twelve NOW??

I do know that someday those somedays will come, but I also have to remind myself that:

'Someday is not a day of the week'

and:

'Pray for a good harvest, but keep hoeing'.

(I don't know what I would do without the reader board at the motor-home park across the street from our neighborhood providing me with such sound advice . . . .)

Are you going to transform one of your somedays into your today?

I'll Tell You Where The Beef Is.......

2008-06-29T21:38:00.011-06:00

This past Friday night I loaded the dishwasher like I always (almost never) do, hit the start button and went off to bed.

What greeted me Saturday morning on my kitchen floor? A wonderfully aromatic mixture of dishwasher water and the remnants of the old starting-to-look-like-a-science-experiment-in-the-fridge roast beef that I had put down the garbage disposal, right before I hit that start button on the dishwasher and went off to bed. Not only were both sides of the sink completely plugged; but the dishwasher was backed up and overflowing as well. E-gads!

Miracles of the day? Paper towels.

A whole entire roll of paper towels.

And bowls for bailing.

And towels for soaking.

And Liquid Plumr Gel.

Professional Strength.

The whole entire bottle.

I have never appreciated my dirty sink and my rumbly dishwasher as much as I do RIGHT NOW. Praise God from whom all blessings FLOW.....

Greetings, Earthlings

2008-06-27T20:39:00.013-06:00

Okay, so here I am again, spending more time that I don't really have, messing around with the world of weblog creation, all for drivel that people probably really have no interest in reading. And the point is........someone, anyone?????????????? Bueller?...Bueller?...Bueller? (Forgive me for being stuck in the 80's - is that a crime? Sue me if you'd like, but you'll have to take a number.)

Sigh.....things have changed from the way that I remember them now that I'm back on good ol' Planet Earth. I was away on Planet Retail for the last decade, which is equivalent in earthly terms of being in a coma. Now that I've returned from the near-dead, I realize that I have no life. Sad, isn't it? Well, at least most of you can sleep well with the sense of relief that you never quit your 'real job' and chased the all-American dream of owning your own business. The dictionary got the spelling wrong, that's all - it's not entrepreneur, it's entremanure. Oh, but I'm not the least bit bitter, what makes you think I'm bitter? Try eating a brick of Baker's Chocolate.....now that's bitter!

I am slowly coming to terms with the lessons that I have learned from my many experiences of these last ten years, but it's going to take me the next decade to get them on paper, or in this case, in HTML format, which for me is like learning an alien language.

Take me to your leader - Me Need Java!

So, until next time.../P} {P....... (I'm pretty sure this means something to the effect of 'insert blank space')

Count Your Blessings

2008-06-26T00:11:00.004-06:00

The following is a post from the blog of a dear friend of mine regarding her niece (pictured at right) and her niece's friend who both miraculously survived an ATV accident, so for you praying folk out there, GET BUSY!

"Two girls are taken to the hospital after driving an ATV over a 150 foot ravine near Featherville. Witnesses tell us the girls went over the edge of the ravine at about 3:00 p.m. Saturday. They tell us one girl was unconscious and another was hurt, but was responding to rescue crews.It took several hours for crews to reach them in the ravine because hospital helicopters couldn't land near the crash site. They had to land at the trailhead in Featherville, and use ATV's with trailers to get them to the helicopters. No word on the their conditions."

"This is what the news reported of my Niece Lyndsy Porter on Saturday night, June 21. Lyndsy and her friend Angie were lifeflighted to St. Als hospital. Both girls are recovering well. Lyndsy had a 4 hour surgery the night of the accident to clean up an open wound on her leg and to also put a rod on her broken femur. Angie suffered head trauma and a broken pelvis which she is going in for surgery today.We are very proud of Lyndsy, she is a very strong girl and we love her very much! She is being moved from ICU today to a regular hospital room! Please keep Lyndsy and Angie in your prayers for continued good recovery!"

Thank you, all, for your prayers - for updates on the girls' continued improvement, you can check in at randisfamilyfun.blogspot.com.

Withdrawals

2008-06-25T19:35:00.003-06:00

Oh, what to write about tonight.......I'm experiencing brain-freeze again, which is:

a) a term that I like to use interchangeably with writer's block

b) a result of working on the computer for too many hours.....AGAIN

c) NOT from sneaking one of the kids' Popsicles - I am cutting out sugar, REMEMBER?? So back away from the crazy lady.......slowly now.....and show no fear......or you may be attacked and strip-searched for a Hershey bar..........

Nights like this are what spawned the category creation of Zee Recycle Bin: partly because sometimes I talk with various foreign accents when I'm loopy-tired (yet another weird and wonderful detail about myself that was totally unnecessary to share); and partly because I needed a category to place my entries in whenever I'm a typing zombie or have nothing interesting to say. So, basically.......just check back here for at least another year.

If I was not dirt-poor right now I would spend some dough and spruce up my website with some purty graphics........wait, wait, changing channels......where does that term come from anyway.....dirt-poor. Is it because whoever coined it felt they were worth less than the ground that they walked on (that is not me) or because they were raised on a dirt farm (in this case, that would be me) or because they had more dirt than they had money (I definitely have more dryer lint than money). And why do they call it dirt anyway? Oh, Lord.........I'm starting to sound like Andy Rooney......

I also need to have such a category so I am not tempted to break down when my topics reserve runs low and start blogging about:

my husband's annoying habit of leaving EVERY drawer and EVERY door in the whole entire house OPEN (he was born in San Francisco, NOT a barn)

OR: that I didn't know that I would also have to change my FIRST name when I got married (he fondly addresses me as "Haveyouseenmy")

No, no....I wouldn't want to slip and start revealing such start-a-brawl-on-Jerry-Springer kinds of things.......that would be in bad taste, and would defeat the purpose that I am blogging for.

So, anyone that doesn't enjoy my blogging style....well, they can bite my carrot stick!

Lions, and Tigers, and Prozac - Oh, My!

2008-06-24T00:39:00.004-06:00

You need less stress.

Take some time for yourself.

You should really try to get away for a vacation.

Who among us have ever heard THESE clichés?

Dreamed about these clichés??

Consumed an extra row of brownies straight from the pan because there is nothing we can do about these clichés??? (Oops - give me a minute to sweep the crumbs off of my desk.)

We all react differently to stress, but a large number of these reactions are unhealthy; namely, addictions. Yes, I know, I sound like another cliché waiting to happen, but I am trying to go somewhere with this:

When I was growing up, the only kind of addictions I ever heard of applied to drugs or alcohol. Now? Well, you could get addicted to addictions! Think about the growing list……

New kinds of drugs
New flavors of alcohol
Sex
Food
No Food
Sugar
Artificial Sweeteners
Money
Reality TV
Video games
And of course, Internet EVERYTHING

Soon we may have a list of addictions that can compete with the 87,000 choices on the Starbucks menu!

Our everyday lives are bombarded with advertising that fuel our addictions:

How would you like your addiction today? Maybe some whipped cream on top? How about a new chat room? Electronic gadget with 47 new features? Would you like fries with that?

And then, we have the growing list of mental disorders. Say goodbye to the simple garden variety of depression, and hello to the likes of:

Mild depression
Regular depression
Severe depression
Atypical depression
Postpartum depression
Manic depression (now re-named as Bi-Polar Disorder)
Existential depression

Enter in new types of anxiety:

General Anxiety Disorder
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Panic Disorder
Phobias
Post-traumatic Stress Disorder
Social Anxiety Disorder
Eating disorders

And the list goes on……………

While the medical and psychiatric communities are making great strides in identifying our disorders and addictions, they are also reinforcing the fact that, WE’VE GOT A LOT OF PROBLEMS, PEOPLE!

Okay, now for my opinion (by now you should know that I’m always going to give one, so some of you can stop rolling your eyes, and keep on ‘areadin’):

Regardless of the causes behind our addictions (I think I’ve made enough lists for tonight!); and the many sources of our depression and anxiety, whether they are from a chemical imbalance or many other reasons, I believe that the root of the problems for millions is the absence of spirituality, or what I call a lack of a “God connection”.

Before we turn to addictions to fill the emptiness, and medications that may only serve as a Band-aid, why not consult God first? All addictions grow from the seed of LONGING – a longing for comfort, a longing for love, a longing for success, a longing for acceptance, a longing to belong. I don’t care who you are; we all long for something. Wy don't we just condense our longings into a longing for God? He is there to help us with all the other complications.

Jesus said in Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest”.

Prayer is helping me tremendously to deal with my own issues – anxiety. . .depression . . .SUGAR! I’ve brought my financial worries and the contents of my pantry to His feet. Phew, that was a lot of trips! I just have to remember that I'll have to make these prayer trips over and over again, even everyday.

And the rest I need; well, I’m not going to be finding it in a five-star hotel anytime soon, but I am able to rest in the peace of knowing that I can count on my Baggage being handled with the utmost of Care.

Zzzzzzz.............

2008-06-23T00:54:00.004-06:00

My husband and I have spent so much time on computers today with all this web-site building that we decided we need post-it notes on our foreheads that say "CLICK HERE" so we'll remember to talk to each other. Now I'm just brain-dead. Haven't there been a bunch of studies done that have scientifically proven that the human body needs sleep? Oh, I can't even pull off sarcasm tonight, so I'm going to step.away.from.the.computer. And then I'm going to go to bed.com.

Thanks A LOT, Mary Poppins!

2008-06-22T23:45:00.004-06:00

How do I get my seven year-old daughter, who has a nasty chest cold, to take her cough medicine??? I am not a psychologist, so why do I pretend to be one............

It'll make you feel better. You DO want to feel better, don't you??

You won't get better until you drink it!

It tastes like candy!! Look, I'm tasting it - it tastes great!! Yum, yum!

How about if I stand on my head and make balloon animals simultaneously, WILL YOU TAKE IT THEN???!!!

Even though the drug companies try to disguise the flavor of children's medicines with two thousand tons of sugar and psychedelic colors, she refuses to be fooled. The only thing that has ever worked with her when it comes to taking medicine is to sneak it into a soft drink, which adds MORE sugar and MORE pretty colors. We call it her Magic Kool-Aid (hey, this sounds like a good name for a Willie Wonka product).

What did our moms do, before the existence of these "pick a flavor, any flavor" corn syrup-laced medicinal concoctions? Hhhhmmm..........we were not offered a choice, as there weren't any. The only option was to JUST TAKE THE MEDICINE. It was one flavor fits all, and it was mostly sugar-free.

Does anyone besides me remember Paregoric?? I think it's still around, but I'm not going to check anytime soon......it has to be the nastiest-tasting medicine on planet earth. But it's what my mom fed us kids when we had a stomach-ache (I now have a stomach-ache just thinking about it!) But we took it, no questions asked, and yes, we felt better. I also don't remember Mom threatening us with bodily harm if we didn't take it, or bribing us either (oh, but I have NEVER done that with my own children.....)

Heavy sigh.......I miss the days of simplicity:

When there was one choice of toothpaste, three basic flavors of ice cream, and one kind of water (Remember? It was called TAP).

When there were no such things as combo meals, to-go cups, and commercials at the movie theater.

When you had one T.V. in your entire home, so you were forced to spend this time together; and there was one telephone, attached to the wall by this thing called a cord, which the whole family had to fight over, I mean share.

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic, or maybe I turned 40 this year (!!) but I do stand firmly by this belief.....our country has it WAY too easy, and we are WAY too spoiled. In my humble opinion, we have allowed our economy to be built on an outrageous pyramid of consumer choices, and as our economy is currently experiencing a major "shift", I think more people are going to start to realize that we don't NEED all of these choices. And the economy will suffer. We're going to start taking a closer look at wants versus needs. And then our economy will suffer some more. We all want and enjoy up to 87,000 combinations to choose from at Starbucks (you say Really? and I say check their website) but do we really NEED that many?? And if Starbucks ever goes under, God forbid; our entire economy may go down in a flaming blaze of glory!

Well, I'm signing off now, because I need to go write my daughter's toothpaste on the grocery list:

Kid's Colgate, Strawberry-Flavored, with fluoride, 2 in 1 Toothpaste AND Mouthwash.

How Do You Spell "Whoah"?

2008-06-21T01:59:00.004-06:00

I just about fell off my blogger's be-Hind:

I logged into my site to start my entry of the evening, and what do I accidentally spy but this little section that I had not noticed quite yet......(insert playful suspense and morbid curiosity). It says my site has been visited 332 times in the past week. 332 TIMES. What THE.......

I have not emailed this many PEOPLE!!!! No one knows I'm here!?! Either you guys have all been really busy with some pyramid-like referral system, or someone's messin' with mah head.

Maybe I should figure out how I can charge admission.....or maybe I should install a home security system.............oh, I'm just joking around. It does say 332 times, but it's probably mostly Google and Yahoo trollers, and I haven't even received any spam yet! You know that your site has no traffic when you have no SPAM....

I do have some thoughts on the topic of purpose, however. I think if you make an honest attempt to figure out God's purpose for your life, then miracles will start to flow.

Allow me a little digression: a couple of year ago, when I started to realize there may be life beyond retail, I started some major soul-searching. I read everything from "Purpose Driven Life" to "The Rhythm of Life" to "Excavating Your Authentic Self".

And what do you think happened? Nothing. Nada, zip, zilch, zippo. My theory on why not? I felt my life was too much of a mess at the time, and I had to do too much catching up before I could arrive at the point of "now I'm ready to figure out my purpose". Kind of like when you're trying to leave for a trip to somewhere: Well, before we can leave, I need to clean out the car, do the laundry so everyone has something to wear, find a sitter for the dog, mow the lawn, and what about the mail......I think you see where I'm going with this.

I felt under-prepared, as in "I'm not ready yet!" to find my purpose.

Then I read this amazing book, "Let Go, Let Miracles Happen: The Art of Spiritual Surrender" by Kathy Cordova. (Note to self: maybe you should write to her.....DER)

I stumbled across this book (I'm defining 'stumbled' as God hit me over the head with it) shortly after finding the Miracle debit card on the counter in our store. While I didn't agree entirely with the premise of her book (based somewhat on her experience with A Course In Miracles) I was struck by one profoundly simple, simply profound statement in her book and that was this:

Love is the opposite of fear.

She also used a Biblical reference:

There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear.......1 John 4:18

When I decided to dig a little deeper inside myself, I hit pay dirt. I finally unearthed the one thing that had been holding me back from my life: FEAR. Fear of failure, fear of criticism, fear of rejection; you name it. I was using the excuse of "I'm not ready yet" because underneath that excuse was the fact that I was CHICKEN.

I'm a wife, so I have that title to hide behind. Oh, yeah, and I can hide behind my kids, too, because I'm a parent, and I need to focus on that, not on anything else.

PLEASE don't get me wrong - I CHERISH being a wife and a mother! I am not belittling the roles that marriage or raising a family brings, because they are a VITAL part of God's purpose. If these are not among the first priorities on your list, then there is no point in even having priorities.

What I mean is: you HAVE to pay attention to your God-given gifts, and not let ANYTHING stand in your way of this discovery process. They can be anything (remember what I said about nothing being insignificant to GOD??)

So back to using me as an example:

I am not so great at this parenting thing. My kids are somehow turning out to be amazing all on their own, without much help from me. (Yes, yes, I know; they haven't hit the teen years yet - by then I'm sure I'll be screaming for HELP).

I am a lousy house-keeper. Our house consistently looks like the aftermath of an Amtrak derailment.

I am an even lousier spouse, but I do manage to make the coffee in the morning.

I don't know about writing yet - the only writing that I've ever done consistently was the LARGE quantity of notes I used to pass to my friends in high-school typing class! However, I do tend to be rather pet-peevish about other people's spelling errors (never my own, of course!); I was once dubbed 'the comma Queen' by a past business partner; and I was allowed to skip an entry-level English course in college because of my SAT scores. So, maybe there's something there after 20 years of ignoring it.

I'm still struggling to dig my way out from under the avalanche of doubt that has accumulated from my years of living in fear. Because of my ever-present insecurities, I check in with the Boss rather frequently......are you sure that I'm supposed to spend time writing, God?

And he's always like, "yeah, I'M sure".

Use what you're good at, use what you love. If you have no clue, then just Ask. I think you may be pleasantly surprised, something like an unexpected number of visits to your website.

Blah, Blah, Blog

2008-06-20T01:57:00.001-06:00

It's amazing how stress and anxiety can zap your energy (or maybe it was the two Pop tarts and SMALL bag of Cheeto's that I called today's lunch.....ya think??!! Why, oh why, oh why did I let my husband go to the grocery store with the kids AGAIN???)

Today has been a zapper. I think I at least have enough energy left to examine the irony in all the publicity that the upbeat company Despair, Inc. has been receiving - the irony of the whole thing is that the motivation industry is what motivated them to start their anti-motivation industry.

Okay, so maybe I don't have enough energy left. I'm tired. And anti-motivated to type anymore. I have been working on this computer since 9:00 this morning. I wish I could say the day was spent at the coffee shop writing my best seller.....heavy sigh......."HEY, DREAMS ARE FREE, YA KNOW!!" Take THAT, Despair, Inc. - let's just see you try and rain your pessimism on this happy parade! (The 'dreams' saying comes from my good friend 'Fiona' - I'll have to tell you about her amazing dream-come-true sometime, if she'll let me.)

I've received so many wonderful emails from those of you kind enough to take a moment out of your day to read my twaddle (woo hoo - I made it past a week!) Thank you all so much!!!! And the honorable mention goes to Emily for the stash of secret restaurant recipes she sent me - almost better than free gas coupons, (but I could sure use some of those, too - hhhmmm, maybe I'll try the El Torito's Enchilada Sauce recipe in the gas tank).

I told her she was my hero for finding me the recipe for A&W Onion Rings, and then I got drool on my keyboard, oh, and then it just got ugly. I think it was about then that I broke open that little toaster box of cardboard pastries, I mean cardboard box of toaster pastries.

Stress-eating is a NASTY habit. And a good topic for another blog, another time, another night.

I just realized that, given the time of 'day' that I usually get a chance to write here, I should close my blog with some form of good night.....so how about I take suggestions from you all for something catchy:

Not too Lawrence Welk-y or Sound of Music-y - please tell me you're following my train-wreck of thought. You know, the Von Trapp kids with their cutesy "so long, fair well, auf wiedersehen, Good Ni-ight!" And Mr. Welk's ditty, "good night, sleep tight, and pleasant dreams to you. Here's a wish, and a prayer, that every dream comes true. And now, 'til we meet again.....adios, au revoir, auf wiedersehen, Good Night!"

Yikes, I'm so tired I'm starting to have hallucinations of nuns inside floating bubbles, so a simple g'night will have to do for now.

Depression Hurts. God Can Help!

2008-06-18T01:51:00.002-06:00

So I'm going to quit procrastinating, and start talking about the hard-to-talk-about stuff, the not-so-funny stuff of my life. I did agree that writing would be part of my DIY therapy!

I've lived my whole life with that DIY philosophy - if you want something done right, do it yourself. Stubborn, pig-headed, independent; whatever you want to call it, this kind of attitude made the idea of ever asking for help a totally foreign concept to me. Maybe I should have traded in Wonder Woman for a more realistic role model....

I've also applied that mentality to the control of my own emotions. For one, as a kid, I hated being 'overly sensitive', and for two, I didn't want anyone trying to help me figure it out. If I ever felt anything but happy, then I needed to be able to justify that to myself, a 'real' reason, and then I could handle it ON MY OWN.

Just like the time at summer church camp the July of my 6th grade year when I fell down in front of the ENTIRE lunch line. I was so mortified that I was crying over a boo-boo on my knee. I can remember grinding my bottom lip between my teeth in an effort to hold back the tears.

But when I looked down and saw that my favorite Hash jeans were ripped open and laying across my foot, AND a waterfall of blood was gushing down my leg, I said to myself, "Okay!! It's okay to cry now!!" (My friends told me later about the kids that turned ghost-white at the sight of all that blood, while others lost their lunch before lunch, so I had even more justification!)

Yeah, now that was a real reason to cry. Forty-seven stitches and one skin graft later, I was fine.

Yet this was one of the only major 'events' of my childhood. The rest was pretty smooth-sailing, without many ripples (well, other than those lovely teenage years, which I don't wanna talk about anytime soon.....like, gag me with a spoon!)

So with the new-found freedom that the age of 18 brings, I went out into that world of adult-hood, ready for sunshine and fairy-tales; you know - happiness! (if you're over the age of 30 and reading this, I'm guessing that you are now laughing hysterically).

My wedding day......extreme happiness.

And the births of our children......incredible happiness.

And lots and lots of other happy times, but also lots of the other stuff, that unexpected stuff; it was like, wait a minute, that wasn't in the script! I didn't want 'real' life to get in the way of my selfish, all-American pursuit of happiness. I didn't want to feel any pain; pain is uncomfortable and awkward and messy, and, well: painful! I did my best to avoid pain at all costs.

How about the death of our beloved cat of 11 years? Was that enough reason to cry? I cried buckets. But I thought, Oh, come on, Marielle, he was just a pet. People in Cambodia are dying from starvation, and here you are crying over a pet. Grow a backbone. Get over it! But I still cried more buckets, by myself.

Then finding out my sister had breast cancer - how did I react? You need to be strong for your sister and for your family; now is not the time to think about yourself! And I cried, by myself.

My father-in-law, diagnosed with lung cancer - I thought, You need to stay strong for your husband! Again I cried when no one was around.

Then the miscarriage - It'll be okay, you can have another baby. You are already so blessed to have one child. Besides, think of all the women that can't have children, EVER. Quit feeling sorry for yourself. More tears, in the dark.

The funeral of my father-in-law - You shouldn't be thinking about how much our kids are going to miss out on by not having him in their lives, or the fact that it's our wedding anniversary today; it's not about you. So I waited to cry when my husband was gone for days at a time, settling his father's estate, while I stayed home with our four-year old and our new baby.

Then when I had to walk down the aisle of the church to be seated at my sister's funeral, the same church aisle that I walked down arm-in-arm with my dad to be given away on my wedding day, I just couldn't be strong anymore. I finally gave myself permission to cry. But I still didn't ask for help, not even from God.

Oh, I said plenty of "what's wrong with me" prayers, but that was still me trying to solve things on my own. What I finally realized is that I needed to start praying "please help me" prayers. It took Him a while to get His point through this thick skull of mine!

God's point for me was this: that I will get stronger by "living" in, instead of hiding from, painful times in my life. Romans 5:3-5 puts it SO much better than me:

"We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

So do you think God has to wait for a good reason to love us? Um......NO!

Then why do so many of us think we shouldn't bother Him with our little problems, and that we have to wait for something major?

It's okay to cry now, and it's also okay to ask for help. God has given us the ULTIMATE justification.

As for me, I still feel that my problems are insignificant compared to other people's, but I know now that nothing is insignificant to my Creator. I also know that I'll face many more sad times, tough times, painful times in my life, but I'm learning that I can handle it, with a little Help from above.

Spa Westphal

2008-06-17T21:19:00.002-06:00

I forgot to include my "Body Mask/Beauty Treatment While Camping" recipe on my post last night:

Apply sunscreen liberally, and coat with layer of bug spray. Allow layer of perspiration to develop, and let elements blend overnight. Remove at the end of the day upon arrival home with EXTREMELY LONG shower. I guarantee your skin will have that fresh-from-the-spa feeling!

Miracle of the day: hot, running water. And deodorant.

Un-believably Simple Pleasures

2008-06-16T20:32:00.000-06:00

Ah, yes, camping......nothing says "you need less stress, Daddy" quite like a family camping trip on Father's Day. We have managed to maintain this tradition for, I think, the last three years now, but with our SUV in the 'shop' (a.k.a. the 'driveway'), packing was a little, er, shall we say, trickier, this year. The trunk of our little four-door Honda overflowed quickly, but I discovered that this car has fabulous under-your-feet storage space, and the front passenger's side - where I sit - can accommodate two 'laptops', as in the Monopoly game and my daughter's inflatable, very much inflated, floaty-toy for the lake.

So, with our knees at eye level, we (me, the husband, the kids, and the rat terrier) set out for the woods. On our drive, we relaxed to the sound of the oldies, with such favorite classics as:

"Are We There Yet?"

"Mom, She Keeps Hitting Me!"

"Can We PLEEAASSE Trade Places?"

And a new hit, "I Think The Dog Just Threw Up"

My husband and I did make a pact to leave our stress at home for the weekend for the kid's sake. So, don't get me started on the STRESS topic!!! The Un-paid bills, the Un-mowed lawn, the Un-fixed SUV, the Un-washed laundry and dishes, the Un-organized office, and the Un-paid bills (oh, wait, I said that already, didn't I?!) Maybe I should try drinking some of that Un-Cola........

After we Un-packed, we started to truly relax and Un-stress. We had almost forgotten one of the magical effects of camping:

You Un-wind when you Un-plug. No cell phones, no computers, no video games, no T.V., no talk about work. I think a "Hallelujah" is appropriate here!

Some highlights of our trip:

My seven year-old daughter learned that the tooth fairy can find you, wherever you might be.

My twelve year-old son figured out the most ideal conditions and the optimum locations for constructing his own lakes in the sand.

My husband made the choice to forget to shave (well, he said it was just a test to see how much 'gray' would grow in).

I decided that I would give myself permission to actually take off my shoes while at the beach, and I also remembered that breathing is really quite easy, once you get the hang of it!

And the most awesome highlight of all: being together with my family for the sighting of several deer, some cougar tracks, a baby fox, and my favorite - many happy butterflies.

Now that we're back at home, we found that, while we were gone, the lawn didn't stop growing, nor did the laundry or dishes wash themselves; the broken-down SUV is still sitting in the driveway where we left it, and Ed McMahon did not stop by to pay our bills (word has it he's having his own financial problems anyway!)

In the midst of all of the stress that will be greeting me each morning this week, I'm going to try my best to hang on to the simple pleasures of this last weekend for as long as I can. I'm starting to finally understand that stress will probably always be present in our household, but our children won't be for all that much longer, and we may not be either, for all I know.

Some sage advice from Master Oogway of "Kung Fu Panda" (gotta love this movie): yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift, that's why they call it the present.

And the best advice from the Master Himself from Matthew Chapter 6:

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Easier said than done, especially if you are prone to anxiety like me, but that's the topic of many future blogs, so y'all come back now, ya hear?!

Cocoons

2008-06-13T02:00:00.004-06:00

When my always positive, always upbeat sister lost her battle with cancer almost three years ago, I crawled into a cocoon of my own making, keeping it comfortably padded with denial and red wine. I felt this indescribable mixture of sadness and anger; I didn't know what to call it, but I wanted it to GO AWAY. All the trips that we could never take, all the crazy ideas that we could no longer share, all the laughter and silliness that came so easily between us: gone. I felt like I had the right to throw myself on the ground and scream, it isn't fair, it isn't fair!

But I didn't. I kept mostly quiet about it, agreeing with those around me that it was for the best because she wouldn't have to suffer anymore, and I knew that was true, but I didn't want it to be. And I crawled deeper into my dark, warm, safe cocoon.

Three months after her funeral, I was still swimming in this unsettling emptiness. Then one night, I remembered that a family member had shared a story at the funeral about his wife seeing a big, beautiful butterfly on their front porch the September morning that my sister had died. And it hit me; their beauty, their spontaneity, their love of adventure; of course! My sister had been a butterfly! She had too much to see and do to stick around this boring old earth. That night, I started to feel a sense of hope seeping into my cocoon, and I knew I was going to be okay.

Anytime I see a live butterfly, a picture of a butterfly, or even a butterfly sticker from my daughter's vast collection, I again feel that sense of hope, what I now call a butterfly moment. I've had so many of these moments since then, one of which took my breath away. On the 2nd anniversary of her death, I looked up from my computer to see the sun casting silhouettes onto my wall of two butterflies that were dancing outside my window. It was as if she stopped by to say hello, and be silly with me for old time's sake.

My latest butterfly moment: I recently received the following email regarding a really interesting fact about cocoons:

"A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could,and it could go no further.

So to help the butterfly, he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.

Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings.

It never was able to fly.

What the man, in his kindness and haste did not understand, was that the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening was God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If God allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly!

Remember...what we struggle with makes us strong!"

Surviving the loss of my sister has definitely made me stronger, and a butterfly wanna-be.

With that said, I'm going to clean up the mountain of used Kleenex that has piled up on my desk from writing this post, and flutter off to bed.

No Poop Here, People!

2008-06-12T21:12:00.000-06:00

With God as my witness, I do hereby solemnly swear that I will never have a category on my blogsite called 'POOP'. Some people's children..........if they have to resort to conversations about their own children's bodily excrements to keep their readers entertained, and keep themselves rolling in the dough from their advertisers, then they have arrived at a new echelon of pathetic.

I'm referring to a few, very popular 'mommy' bloggers that have been featured in the national news lately. Granted, they do have a lot of other quality subjects to share, so do they really have to resort to the shock factor to show their talent?

What has happened to our country and the definition of entertainment?? Whatever happened to the Disney movie on T.V. every Sunday night?? Where is our dignity?? Where is my soapbox??

It's so easy for us to go along with the crowd, and laugh at the embarrassing, the disgusting, the shocking. I've done it myself, plenty of times. But how comfortable are you with that, really?

So, here's our country, and here's this big movement to 'go green' - save the earth, recycle our plastics, use less of this, and conserve some of that. Even as I write this blog entry, an ad flashes across the television screen for "Pause to Prevent Pollution".

Here's a concept: while we are spending time and effort toward reducing the pollution of our God-granted Earth, why not also direct that time and effort toward reducing the pollution of our minds?

You know what kept me entertained tonight? Giggle fits with my daughter. We laughed the kind of laughter that produces rolling tears, red faces and aching sides. All from a simple card game, made from recycled plastics.

Go green, and go clean. And watch where you step. This is all I have to say tonight.

My Two Dimes Worth

2008-06-11T23:06:00.001-06:00

DISCLAIMER: The following content may not be suitable for those unaccustomed to whining.

If someone had tried to explain to me how really broke we could become after using up this much of our blood, sweat, and tears; and finally buying the home we want to raise our children in until we retire on our slice-of-heaven vacation property; I might have said to that person, “whatchyou talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?!” In other words, I was lounging in the easy chair of complacency. We made it this far, so that means we made it indefinitely, right?

If you want to make God laugh, just tell Him your plans. (I don't remember where I heard this, but it has been one of my favorite sayings for years, as it has proven to be true TOOOO many times).

Due to many complicated circumstances completely beyond our control, our business started to go south recently (and no, I don't mean to the sunny beaches of Miami). We started to brush up on our vocabulary, experimenting with words that were new to us, like 'downsizing', and 'budgets', and 'impecunious'. Yikes! Who would have thought........

In 1996 when we looked at the retail site that would become our first store, I found two dimes lying in the parking lot. As I put them in my pocket, I said to my husband jokingly, "oh, look honey, if we don't make it, at least we'll still have two dimes to rub together!"

I'm not joking about it anymore: last week, the only cash money we had left to our name was a jar full of pennies, and those two dimes.

When I first thought about telling anyone this story, I thought, I can't do that! It's humiliating, embarrassing, and depressing. Then I thought, no, it's my duty to humiliate myself on the Internet for all to see. Maybe, just maybe, I could help someone feel better about their own financial situation. Kind of like the reason people get addicted to reality TV - watching all those losers kind of lifts one's spirits! Besides, since my credit score is now lower than my cholestrol, I definitely see life from a more humble perspective.

Okay, so enough of my whining.........now onto the positive part of this blog.

Instead of allowing our complete lack of money to depress or discourage me, I thought, hey, as long as I always have these two dimes, I have more than I need, and that, to me, is the true meaning of ABUNDANCE. (I know I sound rather Pollyanna-like, but I've already worn out my self-pity party dress, and I'd forgotten how much fun the Glad Game is to play.)

Fortunately for us, God has supplied our lives with an ABUNDANCE of incredible people to help us through the tough times. Now it's up to us to make it right. We are forever indebted to these generous and amazing human beings, literally and figuratively, so.......THIS MEANS ALL OF YOU WILL BUY LOTS AND LOTS OF COPIES OF MY BOOK IF IT EVER GETS PUBLISHED, RIGHT?!?!?!?!?!? Just kidding......I think.

No matter what our future, I will always keep these two dimes as a reminder that God will always provide, and as a reminder of the TRUE abundance in my life -

abundance of family, abundance of friends, and abundance of love.

God DOES Have A Sense of Humor

2008-06-10T22:46:00.004-06:00

If I had written down every one of my "miraculous" experiences since the first day I really started believing in miracles, then I would have compiled almost two years' worth to post here. Now, I'm not talking about earth-shaking, back-from-the-dead kind of miracles. The kind of miracles I'm referring to here I define two different ways: small (mostly everyday occurrences that continue to teach me about gratitude); and BIG - those that I feel would NOT have occurred without some divine intervention.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language (Fourth Edition) gives one definition of a miracle as:

such an effect or event manifesting or considered as a work of God.

It is not my intention to use the word 'miracle' lightly; I just know that He has been at serious work in my own life ever since the day I first asked Him for a miracle.

Here's the story of that day with a little business history added in for effect......spring of 2005 marked the beginning of a real financial downturn for our business. We had overcome so many obstacles up to that point, and thought we were beginning to see the light at the end of the income statement. We had been steadily increasing our growth, and had managed to reach an average of $4 million in annual sales between our various divisions. So now let me try to put the meaning of a drop in sales in perspective: if you have only a 10% drop in sales, which directly affects your cash flow; and you have nothing in retained earnings because you've had to spend it all to grow your business to be able to reach that $4 million in annual sales; then that 10% 'offness' on $4 million equates to: $400,000 short of paying your bills. Now let's say that our drop in sales was more than 10%. I think you get the picture, and in that picture you can see us becoming, well, to put it nicely, royally screwed.

By fall of 2006, things were still not turning around. We started to downsize as quickly and gently as we could, but unfortunately a chance at survival meant laying off all of our employees (and borrowing a ghastly amount of money). At 5 am one morning that September, I kissed my husband goodbye as he headed off to try and make some quick sales at an out-of-state trade show, and I told him that I didn't know what else to do, so I was praying for a miracle.

When I arrived at the store later that morning in the cold and the dark, real fear set in. I again prayed for that miracle. As I started to straighten up the mess on the counter created by my husband the day before, I noticed that a customer had left their debit card behind. I'm sure I muttered a couple of choice words under my breath, then picked up the card to see the name on it so I could find him or her in the white pages. What I saw on the card made my drop it on the floor as if I had been bit by an electric current.

The customer's last name was Miracle. No, I am not making this up. I read the card over a half a dozen times before I would believe it. As I laughed through my tears, I said to God, "could you be a little more specific, please?!" I could just see Him up there, saying, "I'm going to have a little fun with this one."

Ever since that day, God has continued to work miracles in my life, and I have continued to ask for them. They are not always what I expect, but always what I need. As for Ms. Miracle? I never found her, and I still have her debit card in my desk drawer as proof. I called all eight people in the phone book with the last name Miracle, and no one had ever heard of her..... Hhhmmm..........

My Statistic-Defying Kids

2008-06-09T12:38:00.001-06:00

My children, boy age 12 and girl age 7, have not fought with each other. In five days. Not once.

And I don't think anything in the house has been broken. Or mutilated by Sharpie marker. Or tied to the dog.

I am stupefied. Quick, someone pinch me. I must be dreaming.

This is my miracle of the week, as I know it cannot possibly last.

The Beginning of the Beginning - Part II

2008-06-08T01:21:00.006-06:00

Now for some of my 'this is now':

The best way I can think of to describe the last decade of my life is this: it’s like I’ve been underwater. I am now trying to come up for air, working my way toward the surface of a 'normal' life after falling overboard more than 12 years ago when my husband and I first decided to quit our 8 to 5 careers and start a retail store completely from scratch. This totally insane idea was born from an innocent and well-meaning desire to have more time to raise our family. Ha! Allow me to again use the word insane, and the word naive as well. (I have a sneaking suspicion that I will be using the word 'insane' liberally in future blogs).

As the kids grew, so did the work load, along with a mountain of debt, make that a whole mountain range of debt, and the business complications accumulated quicker than the fast-food wrappers on the floor of my car. Gradually I started to sink into a sea of stress, weighted down by some good old-fashioned guilt, anxiety and depression. Yes, I am ready to talk about this now, instead of hiding behind a myriad of excuses, like I’m just so busy; or, I’m too tired; or, I’m sick (again); or, I'm so far behind, we'll have to get together when I'm caught up; or, I’ve got something else planned, sorry, maybe another day. It’s time to be honest about where I’ve been, and look forward to where I’m going.

Where am I going? I will have to ask God, and get back to you. I can tell you this - He has recently blessed us with a miraculous opportunity to sell our store, so I feel the need to make the most of the lessons He has taught me through this whole painful and difficult part of my life. I’ve started this blog for three main reasons: first, as a way to share those lessons learned; second, as a form of healthy self-medication and therapy (trust me, I need it); and third, for getting my feet wet in regard to this whole writing thing (oh, yeah, by the way, I think I am working on a book, which might have something to do with the the name of this website).

So . . . . as I venture out on the open sea of life again, I know that the storms aren't going to get any less stormy or less terrifying, but the difference is that I'm going to let God take the helm this time.

The Beginning of the Beginning - Part I

2008-06-07T23:35:00.004-06:00

Testing, testing, 123 . . . . . . . . . . .

I feel like I'm about to yodel into an earth-sized microphone as a contestant on "Global Idol" as I publish my very first weblog – let’s hope I can write better than I can sing. I guess I’m going to have to face the fact that I may encounter a few Simon Cowells of the web world, so without further ado . . . . . . . . . .gulp. . . . . . . deep breath . . . . . . here goes:

First things first – for those of you who don’t know me, I guess an introduction would help, hopefully not as in help you fall asleep faster or help bore you into a coma.

Here’s a little of my “that was then”:

Childhood-wise, I was born and raised on a farm in Southeastern Idaho (and no, I’m not Mormon – no offense to my Mormon friends, but it’s a common mis-perception about all folks from Southeastern Idaho).

Farm life provided a very nurturing environment, and I was always surrounded by the love of my family members:

- 2 wonderful parents, who have been married for more than 50 years, a fact which helps explain their wonderfulness all by itself. More about them later (don’t worry, Mom and Dad – I promise I won’t upload any embarrassing photos).

- a fascinating big sister - being 12 years older than me, she started college the day I started first grade, and when she would come home for a visit - or an ‘extended stay’ as my mom probably called it - she would bring many fascinating things with her. To name a few……her drawer full of incense (it was the 70's, people), her leather jacket with the wings of fringe on the sleeves, the books she left lying around, like “Dandelion Wine” by Ray Bradbury, and my all-time favorite……her kazoo. So many things awed me about this mysterious woman with the hour-glass figure who was my beautiful sister.

- an extraordinary big brother, especially in the sense that he actually enjoyed spending time with me. I will also be writing more about him later, and my dear brother may or may not be exempt from embarrassing photos! ;O) (insert evil chortle) My favorite memories: his assortment of dirt bikes, pickup trucks, and pop cans, and the mischief that we got into involving all of the above.

- a wide assortment of farm animals (yes, they counted as my family members - after all, animals are people, too). These lovable and memorable characters included, but were not limited to:

Cats, kittens, dogs, puppies, cows, calves, pigs and piglets, and did I mention cats?

Now let me skip ahead just a tadge (that’s my daughter’s combination of a tad and a smidgen). I'm going to fast forward past the eight years of my life that I spent earning a four-year bachelor’s degree (I’ll get to THAT topic some other time). Somewhere in there, there was my wedding day, THEN college graduation, a few houses bought and sold, and the births of our two absolutely amazing children.

Setting my 'former' life aside for the time being, if I had to describe my life now in one phrase, I would say that "it’s the beginning of the beginning". You know, kind of like that saying, “today is the first day of the rest of your life”.

Stay tuned for the next episode of “As Your Stomach Churns”, or "The Beginning of the Beginning - Part II".