Behind the Blog

Our lives are so much more than our blogs. I know that any one blog is really just a small glimpse into a tiny window of someone's actual life. So much goes on "behind the blog".

These are some things that have happened over the past month or so, that haven't made it here (well, they're here now, but you know what I'm sayin'):
1. We had a scare with Puddin' after I fed him peanut butter. He was taken to the ER and treated with chest x-rays, Benadryl, steroids (oral and shots), an epinephrine shot and several breathing treatments. He was on the oral one for a week and it gave him a touch of 'roid rage. My generally mild child bit me 3 times one morning in the pediatrician's office.
2. Last week I took him to the allergy doctor and he had 3 vials of blood drawn from his tiny arms for allergy testing, so that we can determine which foods to avoid so that we don't have a repeat of number one. We'll probably know the results by Monday... Friday if the stars and the moon align just right in my favor.
3. Our roof was damaged from H. Gustov and we had some roofers come out to fix it on Friday. The guy said the roof is old and the whole thing needs to be replaced. Yee-ha.
4. Puddin' got sick the night before last and started throwing up. He emptied his stomach and then dry heaved and spit up stomach acid throughout the course of the night. He's been cranky and whiny for the past 3 days. I am having an extremely difficult time dealing with all the whining.
5. Our washing machine broke and stayed "broke" for 3 or 4 days. We got that fixed last Thursday and still haven't caught up on all the laundry, what with all "the throw-ups" and whatnot.
6. I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting yesterday. I've reached a point where I feel it necessary to either start buying "shaping undergarments" or I better bust up some fat. It is time. My starting weight is 168.6. This will not become my weight loss dumping grounds, but I may mention it now and then if I'm particularly happy with my success.
7. The tires on the van need to be changed. Our other vehicle is a small 2-seater truck and Stretch & I can't figure out how the two of us can get the van to and from the shop because we don't know where to put the kids. Tricky stuff, that.
8. Oh, and two of the kids have snot noses.

Today I'm feeling rather blah and irritated, and like I have a ton-o-stuff to do. Welcome to adulthood, right?

The Catch of the Day

[Pretend that I wrote this today, and not yesterday. Then all the 'today's will be today and not yesterday.]

You'll never guess what happened at our house today! We have a tree down from Hurricane Gustov that my poor, ridiculously busy husband has had nans-a-lick o' time to deal with, until this weekend. He got out there today and did all kinds of Man Things, one of which was hacking away at that tree with a chain saw.

I was out in the yard, swinging Sugarhead and visiting with my father-in-law when we saw this tiny thing coming from that direction, hopping across the grass in our direction. At first I thought it might be a bird but the closer I got to it, the clearer I could see.

YA'LL.

IT WAS A TINY, PRECIOUS, SWEET, SWEET BABY BUNNY! You simply cannot imagine my delight! I was thrilled! I snuck up on it and me and my father-in-law wrangled him and snatched him up when he was trying to hop over some oak tree roots.

YOU CANNOT BELIEVE HOW EXCITED I WAS TO BE HOLDING A BABY BUNNY! The poor thing. He was not so thrilled. He screamed. Have you ever heard a rabbit scream? It's so horrible. I felt sorry for the poor fella. So I held him real close and cupped him in my hands ('cause did I mention, tiny?) until he settled down.

So. So. Stinkin' Adorable. Oh, and SOOO soft! The fur! I dare say! No wonder people want coats made out of that! The kids and I could not be contained!

Of all the baby animals, baby rabbits are far and away the best. They're probably God's favorite, too. He made them so much cuter than everything else. It's not fair to the rest of the Animal Kingdom really. If I was like, a baby squirrel, I'd be HACKED!

See what I'm sayin'?

Happy happy!(click pictures to enlarge)

In Which I Admit Defeat

I wish I had some AWESOME newly painted bathroom pictures to show you but alas, I do not.

Y'all.

I just can't do it. This bathroom is totally beating me.

Not too surprising though when you consider that two days ago I was just putting Kilz on the walls.

As my very own Public Service Announcement, I'd like to tell everybody, dark paint is not very forgiving next to bright white trim.

That right there might save you alot of aggravation. ('Course you might be perty smart yerself and have already figured that out.) If you are considering painting a room in a very dark color next to bright white trim, let me just say this. Don't.

Hire someone else to do it. Let them gnash their teeth and writhe in pain on the bathroom floor.

And of course I would NEVER, EVER, NOT IN A MILLION YEARS, ever exaggerate.

I know I promised something would be on the walls by today. And, well, something is. But I don't think BooMama would appreciate me posting Before & After pictures where the Before looks more "done" than the After. I don't think that's what she had envisioned for this whole little project thang.

I'm pretty disappointed about the whole thing. The color has got me twisted in knots. I'm completely on the fence. It's like that song, Should I Stay or Should I Go, if you alter it a little....

Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I could there could be trouble.
If I stay it could be double.

There's a new debate on the table. Continue with dark, evil, could-be-striking-in-a-good-way-or-could-be-hideously-hideous teal, or do I bury that stuff under a thick layer of Kilz and go instead with a nice, forgiving peachy pink?

When I do finish this, I'll show y'all the fruits of my labor. It just won't be today.

(Sigh)

I need a miracle!

I am a nervous wreck right now. I have just a few hours before THIS and I just don't know if I can pull it off! Plus I'm disappointed with the color. It better dry darker, that's all I'm sayin'! Right now it is bright and ghastly. Who knew teal could be so tricky? I want dark, dark, deep dark teal. Not bright, scary aquamarine/turquoise teal. It could be the difference between fabulous and terribly wrong.

This whole thing was already postponed once. Man, I wish it'd be postponed again.

Note to self: Turns out procrastination is not my dear friend, ally and comrade, but my nemesis. It is ruining my life.

Also, how can one tiny bathroom take so long to paint!?

Hopefully I'll have the promised Before & After pictures up tomorrow. I'll be happy if they're up by 10 o'clock.

PM.

In case you were wondering.

I caught a lizard!

Twice actually. Two times.

The first time I grabbed it I shrieked like the girl that I am and hurled it to the ground.

Then, spurred on by Sweet Pickle's excitement, I snuck up on the gnarly beast and grabbed it again. My boy was so proud. His Mama has come a long way, baby. Yes indeedy. Now I am officially cool.

Lizards... so neat and yet, so freaky-deaky. Remember that time they caused me to say totally ridiculous things to my children? Yeah. I remember.

Follow those links, man. You could track our lizard history through the ages. It's good stuff.

Ray Stockton takes care o' bidness.

And today, so do I. :)

Ok, so I've wondered about blog etiquette as it concerns responding to comments. Do ya send an email back to the person who comments or do you continue the conversation in the comment thread....

Personally, when I leave a comment, I would like to get an email back because I just don't have the time to check back at the original post to see if there's been a response posted. I understand though that some people are like, really popular, and they get like, tons of comments a day and that it's just not feasible to respond to everyone. But that ain't me, so that's neither here nor there.

Okay, so there's that, and then sometimes I'll get a comment that doesn't have a return email address.

So basically I've just been mixin' it up a little. Keepin' it crazy confusing fresh.

I would like to send a personal email back to everyone who leaves me a comment because I appreciate them so much (I APPRECIATE YOU!), but then my response may pertain to other commenters, so then what....

How do y'all handle this? Do you email back or do you leave a comment on your post? What's kosher? And if you're a commenter, what do you prefer??

How can people worry about famine and pestilence and war when there are real problems like this to be solved?!

Please help me lest I worry myself into a tizzy.

tizzy - (noun)
a really dumb-sounding word that means,
1. state of nervous excitement or confusion; a dither.

dither - (noun)
1. a funner , less stupid-feeling word to say than tizzy.
2. a trembling; vibration.

You're welcome. Oh, and thank you.

Spillin' Over

I've been blogging for almost a year now, and I've come across this question on other people's blogs: Are you the same person in real life as you are on your blog? I generally tend to think I'm better on paper, thereby somewhat different than I am in person.

Editing, ya know? If I say something unfitting, I can just delete it and have a do-over.

Real life doesn't offer that.

(Nor does it offer background music or a theme song, which I also think is unfortunate.)

Add to that that in real life, I am nice, but not friendly. I am not great at small talk. In fact, I pretty much suck at it.

(How is this possible for a Southern girl? I don't know.)
(Maybe I'm British after all.)
(Which is not to say that the British aren't good small talkers. I wouldn't know.)
(If you're British, don't get all put out. I don't mean anything by that.)
(All I'm saying is it is decidedly UNsouthern to not be a fantastic small talker. It's in our DNA.)
(Well, most of us anyway.)

So anyway, this Can't Small Talk Disease does not apply to people I already know. I could straight talk the HEAD off of someone I have an established relationship with. If you know me... you know. :)

However, if it's someone I don't really know, I am a social misfit. I get lock jaw. I think people sometimes experience me as rude or maybe snobby. It's not that. I don't think I'm better than you. I'm just terrible at small talk.

So where am I going with this anyway? Well, back to the original question... Are you the same person in real life as you are on your blog? Well, on my blog I feel so much more freedom. I have become practiced at saying what I'm thinking. Therefore, blogging almost every day is changing me. It's starting to spill over. It's kinda nice, but it kinda makes me nervous, too. Being practiced at saying things here is now more easily translated into the real world, where real people are looking at me. In real time.

When I'm writing a post, there's no one who may possibly be forming judgments about me. No eyes, watching me. But it's like I'm training myself to be different. Forming different habits. Perhaps unfolding. I'd like to think of it as that.

I think blogging has been good for me in this regard. I've never enjoyed my handicap, but it has served me. I've always wanted to converse more easily with people - to be better at putting other people at ease... because we're all dealing with our own stories and insecurities about ourselves. Sitting in awkward silence only makes it worse. When I am with someone who is chatty and friendly though, I mirror that. Because I like it. I am more inclined to become friends with those people. Their open friendliness puts me at ease and dissolves my fear of rejection.

I'd like to think that blogging is helping me to overcome some of that junk.

So, if you know me, have you noticed a difference?
Also, if you blog, what's been your experience with this? I really want to know.

(An Acceptable & Descriptive Title)

You may have noticed that I've changed my colors.

Again.

(If you didn't notice, it's because you're new here (WELCOME!!) or you're colorblind (I'm so sorry!)

I cannot seem to rest on one color set for long, regardless of how much I love it. There are so many color combinations that I am drawn in by that I feel the need to mix it up often.

(foreshadowing)

That, or I just have some serious ADD.

The pink and gray feels very ballerina to me. It does help having the picture of the thick-legged ballerina in the sidebar to set the mood, too, though. (Isn't she cute, all up on her toes?)

On a side note: Man, I really miss ballet. I hope it comes back into my life soon.

Come back Ballet! I miss how you make me feel tall and like a beautiful swan! Come Baaack! I promise I'll change!

In other news, I got new shoes recently. It is safe to say I am more than a little excited about them.

Way more.

Here they be:
To me, they are almost perfection. They're a flat wedge.

(Sarah, I know your heart just skipped a beat. You can borrow them anytime you're in the area.) (Or you know, if you can't make it to my area, you could go buy you some at Target.)

I start to sound all girlish and stupid when I talk about them, because seriously, the color (wine! perfect for fall), the toe (so stinkin' cute on my foot), the wedge/flat combo (it combines 2 or my favorite styles of shoes). It falls slightly short of perfection based solely on comfort - which I expect will improve with time. I just have a wide instep, so it's a smidge tight across my toe area. Dang hobbit feet.

Can someone please tell me why it's impossible to buy a shoe that is both awesome and comfortable. Oh, and affordable. Can't forget affordable -- 'cause it's all about the Benjamin's.

Actually, in my house it's more about the Hamilton's and the Jackson's. That's how we roll. If I could, I would roll straight Washington's but you can't find shoes for a dollar that are accepted outside of WalMart.

Is it just me though? Does everybody suffer with this conundrum?

Oh, and what do you think about the color situation here? Ya likey?

I hope your weekend is straight fabulous!

Fighting a Losing Battle??

boy and girl have conversation (with interjections from Mom) while using stuffed animal arms and legs like bazookas -

boy: Pretend he's shooting poo at you!
girl: Yeah! Hahaha! Poo and pee!
Me: Gross guys. No potty talk.
boy: Ok, pretend he's shooting throw-up...
Me: No, what if he shoots like... jello? Like in the Snoodles Tale. Remember in the Snoo...
boy: Noooo. What about fire?
girl: Ok! (with great big smile across her lips)
boy: What about firecrackers?!
me: How about something nicer - like water balloons??!!
boy: OKAY!! I'm gonna shoot water balloons at you - and pretend you're allergic to water and it pops on your face!

As much resistance as I put up, that whole conversation makes me chuckle. Honestly though, I have no idea how much violence is too much. Where to draw the line. Clearly they see my suggestions as "aww Mooom, that's so boring!" And what they're suggesting is not awful. It's gross, but it's not in the same caliber to me as saying, 'I'm gonna kill you', which we don't allow. If I had all boys I probably wouldn't make such an issue about all the grossness and shooting and whatnot because it's the nature of boys, I think. (Am I wrong there?) But what we have here is a girl sandwich. A girl smack in the middle of two boys. Does that change the rules?? What do you think? What would you do?

A-Z

My friend Chel tagged me. (Heeyyyyy girl! Thanks for giving me something to write about!)

Attached or Single? So very attached. Which I prefer to tryin' to get a man.

Best Friend? My Stretch and my sister. And I also have some pretty awesome bosom buddies. I'm a lucky girl. I have great friends.

Cake or Pie? Yes. I'm down wit' it.

Day of Choice? Saturdays, Christmas Eve, Christmas day and my birthday (month).

Essential Item? Toiletries. You may notice a pattern as you read on... I have difficulty narrowing things down into something smaller than categories. Single items are just too limiting and make me rather nervous.

Flavour of Ice Cream? Honey Bun. Whuttup yo.

(I like seeing flavor and color spelled with u's.)(Why am I not BRITISH?!)

Gummy Bears or Worms? How about Sour Patch Kids. Although I don't discriminate against the bears and the worms. They taste the same to me. How could one choose between identical brightly colored gelatin food colored chemicals?

Hometown? There are two main ones, but others that are speckled in between. The two primary ones are little towns called Port Barre (Port Barry) and Franklin.

But not Mamou. I mean, I did live in Mamou for a short stint, but I'm not from there. Regardless of what other people may have told you.

Indulgences? My hair stylist. Which I soon have to downgrade because she keeps graduating to the next level stylist making her above our pay grade.

But I'm definitely against abortion. That's not above my pay grade.

January or July? July. Any month I can wear flip flops will trump other months where I cannot. Or should not (because of pain-inducing cold)(but sometimes do anyway). Because I like to think I'm a renegade.

Kids? Three o' dem bad boys. (And of course by "boys" I mean "kids". Only 2 of them are boys.) Cute things, too. And no, we're not having anymore.

I hope.

Last Movie I saw in a Theater? Hmm, gotta think... no clue. I'll come back to this one.
.
.
Okay, I'm back. ...still nothin'. Why can't I remember this??

Middle Name? Marie. Exotic, I know.

Number of Siblings? Three. 2 brothers, 1 twin sister.

Oranges or Apples? Yeah, sure.

Phobia or Fear? Fear. Spiders, heights, creating bad stories for my little people, tanning beds...

Quote? I am Word Girl. How could I possible narrow this down to one single quote. So unfair. I'm picking two. (Because I'm a renegade.)

I'm always thinking one step ahead....like a carpenter...that builds stairs.

You can't get arrested for being AWESOME!

Reason to Smile? Those quotes. :)

Season? Spring and Fall! The fashion is cracka-lackin'!

Tag five more: I'm not doing this part. I'm not comfortable with the whole tagging thing (although I don't mind being tagged) - so if you feel so inclined and you wanna do this, then tag. You're it. Do yo' thang.

Unknown Fact About Me? To encourage me to never eat again, all you'd have to set in front of me are these two things:
1. a jar of pickled pig's feet in that pink juice
2. a big, nasty cow tongue wrapped up, ready to buy. Somebody is gonna EAT that?!
Dis. GUST!

Vegeterian or Oppressor of Animals? How come a vegetarian isn't called an oppressor of vegetation? (This is what Chel said and I'm leaving it because I like it so much.)

Worst Habit? Self-indulgence that looks like procrastination. I don't like doing something until the mood strikes me. When it does hit, I honor it. But until it does, I sort of wait around for it, doing not much of anything until it feels juuust right. There are two categories of people - cleanies and messies. I am a messie. Because of this habit.

Xrays or Ultrasounds? They're both useful. I don't want either though. I like having all of my organs and bones in tact so I'll pass on the x-ray. And I'm good with having only 3 kids, so I'll go ahead and pass on that ultrasound as well. Thanks though.

Your favourite Food? There is no way I can answer this. It's WAY too broad. Now, if we broke it down into something very specific, like favorite (favourite) cookie or favorite pasta dish, or favorite chocolate... then I could answer but favorite food is just impossible. It cannot be done.
But my favorite cookie: my chocolate chip oatmeal raisin cookies.
Favorite pasta dish: crabmeat fettuccine.
Favorite chocolate: Hershey's Reserve Dark with cacao nibs. But I'm not sure if it's strictly about the taste of the luscious chocolate with it's crunchy love nibs. It may be in part because I like to say cacao.

Zodiac? I think astrology is interesting in this way: you meet a group of people who were born at the same time, under a certain sign, and they have very similar personality traits. I think that's very interesting. But horoscope? That's a bunch o' bunk. It's what we call 'pas bon'. No good.

And that there is my A-Z.
Happy Wednesday.
Which reminds me, it's Business Time.
(**make sure children or mother's that might be offended are not within earshot**)

I'd like to give a SHOUT OUT...

To my brother in law, David, who wrote a book! The man is published, people. And look, I've seen this book. I've touched it. It smells real good. How cool to be in print!!

Instead of describing it in my own words, here is what his totally awesome wife, Tonja, had to say about it:

In case you're wondering what kind of book it is...it's a bibliography of Christian Non-fiction, a reference book to find books written by Christians on almost every topic you can think of. It's a first of it's kind. Although it'll be sold mainly to libraries, I think it would be a wonderful tool for any Christian. If you've ever walked into a library or bookstore and were clueless as to what to read, then thought you'd like a book on...say, home decorating...written by a Christian...but didn't know how to find that and neither did the librarian or book store clerk, then this book would be your friend.

And...if you're as excited about it as we are...please tell everyone about it. You may even ask your local bookstore or library if they have it yet! Thanks in advance if you do!


How cool is that?! We're all so proud of David for his hard work and total coolness. :)

Follow this here link to Amazon and read all about it! Get in the know!! And then pass it on. Faith Reads

Satisfying Inquiring Minds

You remember that thing I once said about asking me some questions so I would have something to say? And then, you asked me some questions?! I was all like, HECK YES! (thanking you) And then you were all like, when you gonna ansa my questions. And I was like, whenever I feel like I wanna do it. Gosh.

So here is where I answer your questions.

Sarah wants to know: What's the most difficult thing you've lived through so far?
This has been the toughest question to answer. There is no one thing that stands head and shoulders above the rest. I've lived through several difficult things... I think most of us have. One of the things that has had the most widespread affect on me though, is that I was abused as a little girl. It has touched every aspect of my life and has been the toughest thing to walk out. In my heart. With my family. In my marriage. It has been a very difficult thing. In the past 6 years though, there has been phenomenal healing and God is dealing with that wound.

Mama Belle asks: Hmmm ... If you could do anything in the world, besides being a mommy and wife (can't use that cop-out), what would you do? Like what did you want to be when you grew up (as a kid)? Something different than what you do now.
The only thing I remember wanting to be was an Oceanographer. I blame Jacques Cousteau. We had VOLUMES of his books. VOLUMES OF BEAUTIFULLY PHOTOGRAPHED SEA CREATURES, PEOPLE. I wanted to do that. To be him. I wanted to dive deep into the deep depths of the ocean and take pictures of creatures like cuttlefish and angler fish that dwelt in the depths of the deep, deep ocean. Deeply.

And then one fated day in the early 90s, I saw an episode of Rescue 911 that would change my choice forever. A child, while swimming on the bottom of an underground pool, was somehow trapped in the drain, pulled in (somehow) by the suction of the drain. From hence, I feared deep water... like the deep end of a pool and I would dare not swim in the ocean (or really just the Gulf because I had not yet seen the ocean until long after this dream had died) past the point that my feet touched the sand. I dared not swim past the drop off. (The drop off!? What! Whatareyou? Insane?!) And from that point on, I never ever gave serious thought to what else I might do with my life.

Basically I realized I was big chicken. But don't be sad. I'm not. It was a passing fancy at best.

But that's only part of your question, isn't it. The other part is, what would I do if I could do anything in the world.
1) Work in some capacity to free young girls from prostitution.
2) Have a thrift store that's managed by someone else and my primary job is to shop at flea markets and yard sales and other thrift stores where I find amazing treasures that I give new life to. Or not. Those amazing treasures can live with me in my house for a little while, and then when I'm ready for a change (if ever), they could go into the shop where they'd brighten the faces and lives of other happy recipients.
3) I once heard of a girl who tried on shoes for a living. As a perk, aside from not actually having a real job, she got to keep loads of shoes. I'd like to do that. If anybody's asking. I wear a size 8.5 or 9. Depending. I'm totally available. CALL ME.
4) I would like to be a girl that repeatedly wins Sweepstakes and Giveaways from stores like Target for filling our their surveys. Or because they continually, randomly, land on my name when scanning the phone book. I'd like to be the girl whose names gets drawn ALL THE TIME! That would be cracka-lackin'!

Jackie asked these next 3:
What 5 words would your hubby use to describe you? (Answered by Stretch, himself. In his own words. As it were. Even though I tried to um, help him. But these are really his words. I had suggested Long-suffering, but as you can see, he didn't go with that.)
Witty
Mesmerizing Beauty
Merciful a.k.a. full of mercy
Overcoming
Committed

And vice-versa? Stretch is:
Anchoring
Committed (I said it first.)
Quality
Connected
Earnest

On paper this may sound rather sterile and dull, but these are some of my favorite of his qualities. He's a family man who loves his people and takes the time to prove it. He's quality.

What would your perfect meal consist of? You probably thought this was a random question that you'd catch me off guard with, huh? No indeed. I have been answering this question for myself for years now, should I ever be on death row; altering as need be, as my palate ripens. Heh. (Do they still give you whatever you want to eat as your last meal on death row?) At any rate. I know the answer to this question. Eeeeeasy.
-Granny's Pork Roast, rice and gravy
-some perfectly seasoned Boiled Crawfish avec my very own special sauce (including potatoes and corn on the cob)(or torn on the tob)(whatever)
-some type of delicious Salad, containing feta cheese therein
-Bread Pudding - more than likely, a white chocolate version

What is your favorite "me time" thing to do? Shop. Hands down. No contest. I love to be in the stores. Particularly in clothing and craft stores. I especially, especially love thrift shopping though. Just thinking about it makes my heart beat faster. No lie. And then playing with all my new stuff. If I buy anything because I'm very cheap tight frugal.

So there ya have it. And listen, don't think that just because this section is closed you can never ever ask me anything ever again. No, my doors are always open. I got myself an open door policy. So fire away. I quite enjoy it when people are interested in me. *a wink and a smile*

How to Make a Manic (agitated, frenzied, frantic) Monday.

I wish it was Sunday. That's my FUN day.

Actually I don't really care. I mean, it IS a manic Monday, but the rest of that just got stuck in my head. I really DON'T wish it was (were) Sunday because then I'd have to do this morning all over again. And um, no thank you.

So what ingredients make up such a Monday?

I'm gonna get to that in just a second but let me switch gears for a second and first say:

Thank You for all of your comments on yesterday's post. I want to express my sincere gratitude. It's always difficult to throw something like that out there, but y'all are so gentle and encouraging - you make it easier. Sincerely! You really, really warmed my heart.
Y'all are the best. Fuh real. :)

Okay, now back to How to Make a Frantic Monday.

1) Find clothes in dryer on Sunday that didn't finish drying when the electricity went out on Friday due to Ike. Clothes now carry the repugnant stench of mold. Clothes are darks. So they cannot be purged with copious amounts of Clorox that may or may not make clothes disintegrate. But hey! It gets rid of mold. Or at least the foul odor of the mold. Clorox 2 not as effective at exorcising mold demons. What to do?!

2) Add to that one over-flowing toilet with someone's business floating around, as my excited children said, 'like little boats'. When the water FINALLY receded, after much shrieking and yelping and plunging and flushing, the kids wished aloud excitedly: "I hope it does that AGAIN!" Who knows WHAT they'll tell their teachers today!

3) Mix in more FILTHY, REPULSIVE, VILE towels with still no Clorox and a Mom with hair too ratty to go out in public to buy some until after she's showered (even at Wal-Mart which has no standards)...

.... and you could have your very own manic (agitated, frenzied, frantic) Monday morning.

Dude.

I hope this isn't setting the pattern for the rest of the day.

Finding my voice

When I first started blogging, I did not think this was gonna be a problem. (And on serious posts, it's not.)

But sometimes on humorous posts I have a hard time deciphering the voices in my head. Because funny quotes and things tend to stick with me. Comedy is my favorite. I love making other people laugh. But see? I'm on a quest for the BEST POST EVER. My mind wants to grab ahold of the funniest thought floating in my brain and use that - even if it's not original. But then I feel like I am essentially bland because the funniest things I think aren't even my thoughts. They're things I've picked up along the way. From books, movies, TV, etc. I don't want to be a copy cat. I'd like to be different, just like everybody else.

There are so many people blogging. So. so. many. I don't want to be boring. When I first started I assumed no one was reading it, because no one even knew about it. And then I started getting comments. I got hooked on Comment Crack. The more I got, the more I wanted. I'd like to say that's different now. That I've matured. I haven't. It's the same as it ever was. But now I have this added pressure to keep them coming, and to get new ones. Because what kind of loser blogger only gets like 4 comments.

I like writing funny posts. Funny draws a crowd. People like funny people. I like being liked. It's a good partnership, no? Secretly though, I would like for all people everywhere to think that I am funnyandwittyandclever and SO VERY AWESOME and perhaps wish to be my bosom buddy because of my AWESOMENESS. I would like to have several, several comments on each and every post to reaffirm my high level of awesomeness.

Instead, I have an average of 4 or 5 per post. Which I don't think is entirely bad. It's probably very good for me.

Because it's humbling.

I considered not posting this. I feel really, really exposed. I thought about just working it out in the confines safety of my own head, between me and myself where no one would know my weakness. No one would see me struggle. I'm not a fan of public struggle. I would prefer to hibernate or be vaporized until the struggle is over and I am free from whatever thing was binding me. And then I could be reconstituted, or whatever the opposite of vaporized is, into this whole, free person that everyone could look at as exemplary greatness.

I know that it is profitable to struggle openly, to some degree. I understand the benefits. Yet I still am not a fan.

My issues have names that are obvious by now, right? Their names are Pride and Fear of Rejection.

So why post it? I suppose part of my reasoning is in the interest of full disclosure. For the sake of honesty. Partly, also, because it was on my brain. And the things that linger on my brain tend to make it here.

And then maybe there are other people who deal with this, too.

Or maybe I just need the humility.

(And now I will be checking my email all day long to see what you have to say about this. See what I mean?)

Today I...

• Dusted off our basket full of supplements. We forgot to take them today. And roughly every day for at least half a year. It's nice to know we invest in our health.
  
• Found a cup on the dresser in my bedroom containing about a fourth of an inch of coagulated milk. (Who put THAT there?) (Oh yeah... me.) And then for reasons which are beyond even myself, I sniffed it. (Not so bad. I was expecting much worse. I've smelled worse from the fridge.)
  
• Found myself in too much silence, wondering where Puddin' had gotten off to. I turned to see him sitting on the floor surrounded by banana peels he'd retrieved from the trash can. (Oh, that's not so bad.) And then I saw a flash of blue. (What?) A wad of gum. Also from the trash can. Strung and stuck to his tiny little fingers. On both hands. Such a little mess mess.
  
• Threw out Froot Loops (hurricane remnants)(which claim to be made with natural ingredients. Shut it Froot Loops. Your'e not foolin' anybody.) and then I baked vegan brownies. Yes, I am the bomb. Heh. They're tasty. Mine came out cakey. But I'm not hatin' on 'em.
  
• Was about to outdo my own self and make some homemade hummus for the very first time, but found my tahini had expired in oh-six. I bet I bought that tahini under the same influence (which has now worn off) (even though I didn't want it to) that made me buy all those supplements.
  

Awesome.

Reasoning

me & Sweet Pickle on the way to school this morning

Mama, why is the sun bigger than the earth? Oh, I know. It's to keep us warm. Mama, if the sun moved closer we would burn?

Yeah.

Like french fries. And if the moon moved closer we would freeze.

No baby, we wouldn't.

Yeah....

internal dialogue while he's talking:
(Is that true? Am I wrong? Would the moon make us cold?)
(How stupid am I for even thinking that?!)
(Of course that's not true!)
(Is it?)
(No that's not right. Moving away from the sun would make us freeze. It has nothing to do with the moon.)

...We would freeze like popsicles. That's what Mrs. Mouton said and she's bigger than you. She's a teacher. Is she bigger than you?

Yeah baby, she's older than me.

Well, she's older, so she's smarter.

Success!

Yesterday, the school cafeteria offered one of Sweet Pickle's favorites. Spaghetti + meatballs. My boy is a fan (fanatic) of the meatball.

Much to my delight, he didn't like their meatballs because as he said, "they were small and hard and they hurt my throat when I ate them".

However.

In contrast.

My spaghetti + meatballs last week was delightful, delicious, and delovely. The meatballs were large and very tasty. And they did not hurt his throat on the way down.

And that, dear friend, is how I spell victory.

Mmm-hm. *balls up fist and digs elbow into side and says in best Napoleon voice, YES!*

I will go ahead and confess this though. Up til yesterday, (ya know, when he got served up the hard meatballs), he was saying mine and theirs were about even, and the only reason mine was a close tie and required any thought at all on his part, i.e. had any merit whatsoever, was on meatball size. I don't know what it is with him. How can something straight from a can even be in the same league as something started from boiling down grape tomatoes in herbs and broth thereby making one's own marinara sauce!! That boy is gonna turn me into Paula Deen.

Ask me anything...

Yes, that's right. I'm opening up the microphones to my public. Today is the day you get to ask me anything you want. From the silly and ridiculous to the more personal. I will, of course, use my own discretion when choosing what to answer. But I hope you'll participate. I love filling out surveys, and I also like talking about myself (hence the birth of my very own blawg), so this is a way to combine those two pleasures. I get to fill out a survey about me! I'm all smiles just thinking about it.

Is that my only motive? Of course not. Y'all are bright people. I'm sure you all see through me like a lace curtain. See, as material goes, I got nothin'. This way, you get to provide me with material (lest nothing fresh be posted).

It's like you're all the Student of the Week and you get to help with special jobs, like sharpening everyone's pencils and emptying the trash can.

(Although truly, I would be happy to be the pencil sharpener because I really, really love the smell of fresh pencil shavings, and I have a strong appreciation for a smooth and effective pencil sharpener. Strong appreciation.)

Anyway, I know this is a brave move. Not because I'm afraid of what you'll ask (I'm totally not). But, it may come to pass that no one asks a question. That would just be sad.

I don't want to be sad today. So, really, ask me anything.

It's your turn now. Shoot!

I've never been much of a stickler for deadlines. (Which may have FINALLY paid off for me.) But I may now be ruined forever.

I'm so glad this was postponed. My poor husband made some headway in the bathroom (took off the cabinet doors, primed a portion of the wall & said doors) and then got unspeakably busy with other things.

(Which is totally unlike him, by the way. To leave something undone.)

(This is a man that starts and finishes a project the very. same. day.)

We are not alike in that regard.
No indeed.

And it is not the only regard in which we are different.
No indeed.

Anyway, BooMama procrastinated and I, for one, am heap glad. Now that there's a new date in place, we may actually finish painting the bathroom.

If only I could decide what color I want on the walls....

I was absolutely. set. on teal. SET, ya heard?!
Dark teal. Even though the bathroom is small and without windows.
This color, actually:

Conversations in our house went something like this:
Are you sure that's what you want?
Yeah, I think so. I'm pretty sure.
It's gonna be really dark in there.
Yeah, I know the color's dark, but that's the color I want. It's gonna look really good. It'll be offset by LOTS of white and lights and mirrors.
Are you sure though?
YES! I'm sure. Quit asking me. My mind is made up.

But now it's not so made up anymore. I am no longer absolutely-quit-asking-me-certain-for-all-eternity-certain.

I'm torn. (It's not the first time something like this has happened.) Between a mustardy-wasabi green that I've fallen in lurve with, and the dark teal that I was previously SET on. The trim will be glossy white. That much is certain.

(No. For real certain. (Shut up.) We already bought the paint.)

The green I'm feeling would be somewhat like the background color you are now enjoying.

I have a hard, hard time turning away from that green y'all. Hard. I'm just afraid I'll miss the shade I'm looking for and be disappointed... That I'll get it on the wall and it'll look not quite right. Too lime-y, not enough mustard. I don't want that to happen.

And so, the waffling, it continues.

What is a girl to DO? And now you can see why procrastination is my constant companion.
And why deadlines are my undoing.

Believe this though. By the 26th of this month, something will be on those walls.

I hope I make the right choice. Clearly it's a critical decision. Maybe someone can host some debates so that I can get a clear view of each candidate.

Whatever happens, you will be privy to Before & After pictures. I know. You just can't wait, can you?

Packing, Riding it out, and Returning Home

How many bags does it take to hold what's important to you? For us, it took about 9 (not counting groceries and pillows).
Packing equals emotional decisions.
What do I need?
What do I love?
I need to make sure that I pack everything that we might need. But I also want to make sure that we all have things that we love, because if we lose everything, we need to have a bright spot to look at.
Every thing I love fit into (1) small-ish Rubbermaid-type box. Baby books, photo albums, framed pictures, pretty things I like to look at...

Final choices:
For Sugarhead, favorite blanket, monkey and ruby slippers, games and coloring supplies
For Sweet Pickle, (1) blanket, some books, games and coloring supplies
For Puddin', (1) blanket, and us. His people. Because he's not really attached to any things.
For me, the Rubbermaid box, hair stuff (blow dryer, flat iron, products), and my make-up bag.

I'd have also taken our tempurpedic mattress, but it doesn't travel well. I will, however, be enjoying it immensely tonight.

I found when choosing what to salvage, in case worse came to worse, most of the stuff I thought I loved didn't mean as much as I thought. Not enough to pack it into our van in case a tree fell on our house and destroyed it all. Saying that to say, there's still clutter that can be cleared from our house. Even for a Sentimental Messy.

In summary,
things I'm grateful for:

• a hot water reserve after electricity had gone out, so that we were still able to have warm baths
• a generator to operate the fridge, a lamp, the TV, and a small fan
• sweet mercy in the form of warm coffee every morning (we'd temporarily swap out a lamp for the coffee pot)
• batteries-- for flashlights and a radio (for local news)
• never running out of diapers/wipes
• prescription eczema lotion when Puddin's skin started screaming from humid, humid night air during all-night thunderstorm last night
• all family safe from harm
• having a place to go that is not a shelter
• sporadic cell service, and texting when no service or busy network
• children never panicked. In fact, they wanted to "stay at PawPaw's forever".
• children got to see the hand of God, answering our prayers for protection and safety
  

Damage tally:

• (1) pine tree snapped and down. The one nearest the house. Fence broken, but house unscathed. Thank you, Jesus.
• (1) trampoline, complete with net, mangled and scattered far from house. House undamaged in process. Thank you, Jesus.

Quick Update

We fled the hurricane and just returned home about an hour ago. Our power was restored today, so after being away for 4 days, we're glad to be back home. We are very grateful for having a place to go, as a party of 5 is not easy to take in.

I'll be back later with more. There's alot to do around here.

Thank you for all of your prayers. Sincerely.