I was desperately trying to come up with something to say for tonight... if for no other reason than to goad TLC, but I got nothin'... one little story about B.B..
Today at Walmart:
Me: B.B., do you want to look for something to ask Santa for?
B.B.: No (long pause) I want to be mean and hateful!
(Of course, that's much funnier knowing B.B.'s disagreeable tendencies and juxtapositioning it with her angelic 4 year-old voice.)
And a confession...
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
HUMBUG!
12/04/11 Editors note: If your Christmas tree is giving you problems and you Googled the name and got sent here, the only help I can offer you is to try THIS; although you can read the following year's entry and learn that it helped some, but not all of the problems.
P.D. asked me yesterday why artificial Christmas trees were invented.
"Well honey, I guess so people won't have to go to the trouble of going to buy a tree every year, they'll already have one at home. It's just easier."
Today, I had to rethink my answer.
For our first Christmas in this house, (2005) my mom bought a pre-lit tree for us. (Actually, for P.D.... she said that her baby deserved something better than the "table-top fiber optic gizmo" that Deat and I called "Our Christmas Tree".)
Oh, that tree that Momma bought, it's a beaut... a 7 1/2 ft Emerald Peak Tree (From K-mart's Martha Stewart line no less). It "features 800 multicolored lights and 1,504 easy-to-shape branch tips Revolving stand included" Yes, that's right folks, my tree TURNS. And man, that first 2 years, well, she was glorious. (Although, I will admit, having an angel staring down while turning in a circle as if she were surveying the room took some getting used to.)
Last December was terribly hectic, not to mention a hard one to "get into the spirit" so putting up the tree was a hurried affair one afternoon after school. I pulled apart the bunched-up branches like fighting fire. As a result, we had a somewhat "gappy" tree. Later in the season, one small line of lights near the bottom stopped lighting... no matter... in a few seconds the good side of the tree came around again anyway. Besides this thing has at least 16 different plugs (with a configuration so confusing, it came with all of the sockets pre-plugged except for the 3 letter-matched plugs and sockets required to connect the 3 different layers of tree.)
Today I decided I'd take a little extra care; I'd take advantage of those "easy-to-shape tips" to make sure our tree would look like the one on the box again. I thought to myself this morning, "I'll try to find that line if I have time and fix it, too."
So, I set the first section in the stand... two rows of branches that fall into place when you set them upright. I noticed as I was shaping the bottom row that the upper-row branches I kept pushing up out my way refused to say there, so I called to P.D. to bring one of my belts from my closet. I pushed all of the upper row branches up out of my way and cinched them with the belt.. worked like a charm! So there I sat on the floor shaping each tip, branch by branch; turn the tree, shape the next one... so pleased with my work... repeat for the next row.
Luckily, P.D. had retrieved not one belt, as I requested, but all of them, so I already had them for the middle section (five rows). I took the top-most of the middle sections branches, cinched them, then the second top-most, cinched them and so on down, so when I finished shaping the bottom-most section I was working on, all I had to do was release the belt above it, and only the very-next row would drop for shaping.
I really wish that had been as easy as it reads here. Those easy-to-shape tips (and the greenery adorning them) hurt! Anyone who has ever made the mistake of working in hay in short sleeves can relate to the scratches covering my lower arms. If you can't relate... be glad. One hour in, and I'm only beginning to shape the bottom-most row of branches for the middle section. It took me another hour to get those rows shaped.
Luckily, TLC called and kept me company for half of that ordeal and the shaping of the top section. As I mentioned to her on the phone, with 2 hours, I could have run out and bought a real tree, and the price would have been a cheap exchange for scratch-free arms! We discussed several topics as I worked, one being that she, (unlike me) had blogged 3 times in November and had also blogged yesterday. As I finished the top section, I told TLC I had to go... it was time to start the decorating.
I plugged in my 3 trusty letter-matched plugs and called to the girls for the first lighting....
Only one of that multitude of light-strings lit.... ONE half of ONE side of ONE row on the bottom of the tree. Just then, I noticed a tag on the plug leading into the base, "One spare fuse inside the socket." Hooray! It's probably just that fuse, right? I opened it up, checked the fuse inside, but it looked fine. I re-plugged the main wire into the wall socket... and now none of the lights will light.
Next year, I believe I'll be forgoing the convenience of my artifical tree for a troublesome real one!
Oh well, while my Christmas Spirit may be a bit lacking at the moment, my competitive spirit is alive and well... At least now I'm one up on TLC for blogging in December.
P.D. asked me yesterday why artificial Christmas trees were invented.
"Well honey, I guess so people won't have to go to the trouble of going to buy a tree every year, they'll already have one at home. It's just easier."
Today, I had to rethink my answer.
For our first Christmas in this house, (2005) my mom bought a pre-lit tree for us. (Actually, for P.D.... she said that her baby deserved something better than the "table-top fiber optic gizmo" that Deat and I called "Our Christmas Tree".)
Oh, that tree that Momma bought, it's a beaut... a 7 1/2 ft Emerald Peak Tree (From K-mart's Martha Stewart line no less). It "features 800 multicolored lights and 1,504 easy-to-shape branch tips Revolving stand included" Yes, that's right folks, my tree TURNS. And man, that first 2 years, well, she was glorious. (Although, I will admit, having an angel staring down while turning in a circle as if she were surveying the room took some getting used to.)
Last December was terribly hectic, not to mention a hard one to "get into the spirit" so putting up the tree was a hurried affair one afternoon after school. I pulled apart the bunched-up branches like fighting fire. As a result, we had a somewhat "gappy" tree. Later in the season, one small line of lights near the bottom stopped lighting... no matter... in a few seconds the good side of the tree came around again anyway. Besides this thing has at least 16 different plugs (with a configuration so confusing, it came with all of the sockets pre-plugged except for the 3 letter-matched plugs and sockets required to connect the 3 different layers of tree.)
Today I decided I'd take a little extra care; I'd take advantage of those "easy-to-shape tips" to make sure our tree would look like the one on the box again. I thought to myself this morning, "I'll try to find that line if I have time and fix it, too."
So, I set the first section in the stand... two rows of branches that fall into place when you set them upright. I noticed as I was shaping the bottom row that the upper-row branches I kept pushing up out my way refused to say there, so I called to P.D. to bring one of my belts from my closet. I pushed all of the upper row branches up out of my way and cinched them with the belt.. worked like a charm! So there I sat on the floor shaping each tip, branch by branch; turn the tree, shape the next one... so pleased with my work... repeat for the next row.
Luckily, P.D. had retrieved not one belt, as I requested, but all of them, so I already had them for the middle section (five rows). I took the top-most of the middle sections branches, cinched them, then the second top-most, cinched them and so on down, so when I finished shaping the bottom-most section I was working on, all I had to do was release the belt above it, and only the very-next row would drop for shaping.
I really wish that had been as easy as it reads here. Those easy-to-shape tips (and the greenery adorning them) hurt! Anyone who has ever made the mistake of working in hay in short sleeves can relate to the scratches covering my lower arms. If you can't relate... be glad. One hour in, and I'm only beginning to shape the bottom-most row of branches for the middle section. It took me another hour to get those rows shaped.
Luckily, TLC called and kept me company for half of that ordeal and the shaping of the top section. As I mentioned to her on the phone, with 2 hours, I could have run out and bought a real tree, and the price would have been a cheap exchange for scratch-free arms! We discussed several topics as I worked, one being that she, (unlike me) had blogged 3 times in November and had also blogged yesterday. As I finished the top section, I told TLC I had to go... it was time to start the decorating.
I plugged in my 3 trusty letter-matched plugs and called to the girls for the first lighting....
Only one of that multitude of light-strings lit.... ONE half of ONE side of ONE row on the bottom of the tree. Just then, I noticed a tag on the plug leading into the base, "One spare fuse inside the socket." Hooray! It's probably just that fuse, right? I opened it up, checked the fuse inside, but it looked fine. I re-plugged the main wire into the wall socket... and now none of the lights will light.
Next year, I believe I'll be forgoing the convenience of my artifical tree for a troublesome real one!
Oh well, while my Christmas Spirit may be a bit lacking at the moment, my competitive spirit is alive and well... At least now I'm one up on TLC for blogging in December.
Friday, December 4, 2009
I Feel Lucky, Too
Can you guys stand a story about how great my kid is?
Today is Friday, the day B.B. gets to spend all day with Mommy.
She's not actually old enough for Headstart (missed the deadline by 2 months) but she attends anyway at a local childcare. There's no Headstart on Friday, so we hang out together all day. Sometimes we go pick up McDonalds for breakfast after we drop P.D. off at school.
Normally, P.D. is my angel, always thinking of others and putting them ahead of herself. Most times, P.D. is really happy for B.B. when she gets to do something special. (My Dad says he's never seen a child as good as P.D.... he says he knows HE didn't have one!) Her sweet and kind nature make her sorrows that much more painful for me to see.
So, her reaction this morning really threw me. As B.B. was chattering happily about going to get pancakes, P.D. became jealous and hurt; she was so mad she wouldn't eat breakfast here at all. I reminded her that she and I had a lunch date earlier in the week after her doctor's appointment. Since I live for teachable moments, I also pointed out that this was why the Bible tells us not to covet... it only makes us miserable. I pointed out other examples where she got to go do special things without her sister. She was having none of it.
I spent forever on the phone this morning with my sister discussing it, it really upset me.
This afternoon when B.B. and I picked her up, she was in a serious but sweet mood. She reached over in the car and hugged me and said she was sorry for being angry this morning.
"I re-read part of 'A Child Called It' today." (A book about an abused child that had really upset her.)
Thinking this was P.D. changing the subject, I replied, "Oh, it made you really sad again, huh?"
"No, it made me feel lucky."
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
What? A new post?
Short but sweet
Warning to Ms. D. (my therapist, also becoming my newest reader):
1. All (well, most) the names in this thing have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent
2. It will make more sense if you start from the other end and go chronologically
3. Um, I know I spend too much time on the computer but if I start blogging again (now that I've seen all the SVU's) that almost counts as something productive, right?
For my other readers:
Okay, so I've made some efforts toward getting better, but I'm still not medicated. I got a referral from my regular doctor for an appt. w/ a psychiatrist, but it turned out to be a doctor that I have a major conflict with from her treatment of my brother-in-law, (can you say "I lay the blame for Deat's brother's death squarely at her feet?) so I didn't stay for the appointment. Ms. D also gave me referral to another guy, but the appointment isn't until November 20.
BUT, I have done some other things. I joined Curves and man, endorphins are SUCH a RUSH! I feel so much better! I also restarted counseling with Ms. D. I still have a way to go, but I'm feeling much better.
Because of the family-history, my sister still says I need to get started on meds, but I'm not completely convinced. Perhaps it's my mechanical inclinations, but finding the right medication appears to be a trial and error process, and that whole idea gives me the willies. I like A+B to equal C, every single time, not A+B might equal D, or it could be E, or if neither of those work we'll try F... It's particularly unnerving to me when we're talking about putting something in my body with the specific task of influencing my cognitive processes!
So maybe we'll try meds, maybe we won't. More to come...
Warning to Ms. D. (my therapist, also becoming my newest reader):
1. All (well, most) the names in this thing have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent
2. It will make more sense if you start from the other end and go chronologically
3. Um, I know I spend too much time on the computer but if I start blogging again (now that I've seen all the SVU's) that almost counts as something productive, right?
For my other readers:
Okay, so I've made some efforts toward getting better, but I'm still not medicated. I got a referral from my regular doctor for an appt. w/ a psychiatrist, but it turned out to be a doctor that I have a major conflict with from her treatment of my brother-in-law, (can you say "I lay the blame for Deat's brother's death squarely at her feet?) so I didn't stay for the appointment. Ms. D also gave me referral to another guy, but the appointment isn't until November 20.
BUT, I have done some other things. I joined Curves and man, endorphins are SUCH a RUSH! I feel so much better! I also restarted counseling with Ms. D. I still have a way to go, but I'm feeling much better.
Because of the family-history, my sister still says I need to get started on meds, but I'm not completely convinced. Perhaps it's my mechanical inclinations, but finding the right medication appears to be a trial and error process, and that whole idea gives me the willies. I like A+B to equal C, every single time, not A+B might equal D, or it could be E, or if neither of those work we'll try F... It's particularly unnerving to me when we're talking about putting something in my body with the specific task of influencing my cognitive processes!
So maybe we'll try meds, maybe we won't. More to come...
Monday, September 7, 2009
Fessing Up for Additional Accountability
Where have I been? Well, I've been depressed.
I tried everything to fight my way out of it, and sometimes I thought I was winning. I kept telling myself:
And then, the more recent, the best one...
Do I have a right to be depressed? Sure. My husband died a bit over a year and a half ago, and with him every plan I had for my life, and most of the parameters for my decision-making. Sure, I probably should still be a bit lost, a bit depressed.
But it's more than that. I've been battling depression since before he died... actually since before he got sick, since before B.B. was born... since before B.B. was even imagined. Even if Deat had never become sick, that damn "yuck feeling" would still be there running in the background like one of the myriad of processes in the background on my PC... not outwardly visible but sucking the power out just the same. For all my guessing and researching I wasn't recognizing what it was, so I wasn't counteracting it properly.
I like to think I'm a damn good actress. I like to think I hid it well. I like to think very few people suspected. I know there are some very dear friends of mine that I've had fooled (
I did a pretty good job of hiding it from myself for a long time. Yeah, yeah... Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Shleprock says I'm one of the cheeriest optimists he knows. And I am a cheery optimist... but even the optimism has only gone so far. That sadness, that anxiety just kept coming back.
So this past summer I started giving in to it... I didn't call my friends so much. I spent more and more time alone. "Maybe if I get this one little project on the house done the blues will go away... but I don't feel like working on the project today... I'll play on my computer just a little while longer, THEN I'll tend to the things I've been procrastinating on. Oooops, I've wasted the whole day...time to go get the girls, put on the smile."
I kept thinking if I had set goals and accomplished them, THAT would make me feel better... the only problem was, I couldn't think of anything attainable that I wanted badly enough to work for it. I just haven't "wanted" anything... another symptom in itself.
I stopped fixing my hair, I stopped wearing makeup. It was an effort, an accomplishment, just to get a shower. I stopped answering the phone. I did what I had to do for the girls... but very little beyond that. I had a excuse for any and all of the symptoms. I found a multitude of excuses to stay home even though I had things out there in the world I needed to do. I'd started finding excuses to stay in my room anytime the girls weren't home.
So that's why I went to the Mills this past weekend. I desperately needed someone to "see" it. It had to be someone (in this case, several someones)"safe". Since there's a pretty strong history of depression in my family, I knew they would recognize it and call me on it. And they did.
I listed to my sister all the things I'd (done/been trying to do) to make it better... she answered "Oh, yeah, so how's that workin' for ya?" (Um, it hasn't been?)I've shunned medication for depression for over 5 years now, convinced that I should be able to overcome these feelings without it. (And how's that workin' for ya?)
I started on the road back to L-town with a list of things she told me to do... one of the main ones being find a really thorough mental-health professional to find the best medical and therapeutic treatment for this. As I drove, I started imagining what life would be like without this weight (figurative and physical) slowing my steps. It was a really nice picture... and for the first time in a long time, I have a REAL goal that makes me smile to think of what will come with it.
I'm going to fight this, with real weapons this time, and I am going to feel better.
And then, I really will be able to be the best Kelly I can be. I remember her. Without this weight, I know she's a pretty damn good one.
I tried everything to fight my way out of it, and sometimes I thought I was winning. I kept telling myself:
If I could only get x, y or z accomplished, THEN I'll feel better...
It's just this dang (cloudy, rainy, snowy) weather. A little sunshine and I'll be back to myself
I'm just homesick, a couple days in Ruddles Mills and I'll be fine.
I just need to go to church regularly instead of hit and miss
I just need to lose some weight and quit smoking, then I'll get my confidence back..
I just need to focus on my job and get good at it again...
I'm really a praise hound, I just need some praise from someone...
And then, the more recent, the best one...
If only Deat were here...
Do I have a right to be depressed? Sure. My husband died a bit over a year and a half ago, and with him every plan I had for my life, and most of the parameters for my decision-making. Sure, I probably should still be a bit lost, a bit depressed.
But it's more than that. I've been battling depression since before he died... actually since before he got sick, since before B.B. was born... since before B.B. was even imagined. Even if Deat had never become sick, that damn "yuck feeling" would still be there running in the background like one of the myriad of processes in the background on my PC... not outwardly visible but sucking the power out just the same. For all my guessing and researching I wasn't recognizing what it was, so I wasn't counteracting it properly.
I like to think I'm a damn good actress. I like to think I hid it well. I like to think very few people suspected. I know there are some very dear friends of mine that I've had fooled (
I did a pretty good job of hiding it from myself for a long time. Yeah, yeah... Denial ain't just a river in Egypt. Shleprock says I'm one of the cheeriest optimists he knows. And I am a cheery optimist... but even the optimism has only gone so far. That sadness, that anxiety just kept coming back.
So this past summer I started giving in to it... I didn't call my friends so much. I spent more and more time alone. "Maybe if I get this one little project on the house done the blues will go away... but I don't feel like working on the project today... I'll play on my computer just a little while longer, THEN I'll tend to the things I've been procrastinating on. Oooops, I've wasted the whole day...time to go get the girls, put on the smile."
I kept thinking if I had set goals and accomplished them, THAT would make me feel better... the only problem was, I couldn't think of anything attainable that I wanted badly enough to work for it. I just haven't "wanted" anything... another symptom in itself.
I stopped fixing my hair, I stopped wearing makeup. It was an effort, an accomplishment, just to get a shower. I stopped answering the phone. I did what I had to do for the girls... but very little beyond that. I had a excuse for any and all of the symptoms. I found a multitude of excuses to stay home even though I had things out there in the world I needed to do. I'd started finding excuses to stay in my room anytime the girls weren't home.
So that's why I went to the Mills this past weekend. I desperately needed someone to "see" it. It had to be someone (in this case, several someones)"safe". Since there's a pretty strong history of depression in my family, I knew they would recognize it and call me on it. And they did.
I listed to my sister all the things I'd (done/been trying to do) to make it better... she answered "Oh, yeah, so how's that workin' for ya?" (Um, it hasn't been?)I've shunned medication for depression for over 5 years now, convinced that I should be able to overcome these feelings without it. (And how's that workin' for ya?)
I started on the road back to L-town with a list of things she told me to do... one of the main ones being find a really thorough mental-health professional to find the best medical and therapeutic treatment for this. As I drove, I started imagining what life would be like without this weight (figurative and physical) slowing my steps. It was a really nice picture... and for the first time in a long time, I have a REAL goal that makes me smile to think of what will come with it.
I'm going to fight this, with real weapons this time, and I am going to feel better.
And then, I really will be able to be the best Kelly I can be. I remember her. Without this weight, I know she's a pretty damn good one.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
It's All About Ass, Baby
But before I get to the "Round Tuit" post which promises to be long and boring and of little interest to any of you... (I just want to post it for posterity's sake)I wanted to comment on a pleasant memory I had a few moments ago.
I just got over here from facebook and I noticed that a girl from home had posted this as her status message:
This was one of Deat's favorite expressions... in fact he quoted it so often he finally condensed it and just made it his standard response, particularly when he heard about bad behavior or if the word "ass" was used in any context:
When he wasn't on the radio or TV, he had a slight twang to his voice... and on air or not, his inflection and comic timing were hilarious... I can just hear him now... I may make that one my own. Man, it's nice to have good memories now and not feel like crying every time I have one.
(Which he somehow would have found a way to reply to that with that standard reply above)
I just got over here from facebook and I noticed that a girl from home had posted this as her status message:
Life is about ASS.....everyone is either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, kissing it, trying to get a piece of it, or JUST BEING ONE......
This was one of Deat's favorite expressions... in fact he quoted it so often he finally condensed it and just made it his standard response, particularly when he heard about bad behavior or if the word "ass" was used in any context:
"It's all about ass, baby."
When he wasn't on the radio or TV, he had a slight twang to his voice... and on air or not, his inflection and comic timing were hilarious... I can just hear him now... I may make that one my own. Man, it's nice to have good memories now and not feel like crying every time I have one.
(Which he somehow would have found a way to reply to that with that standard reply above)
Monday, July 27, 2009
Round Tuits and the Tuits they create...
This is my Really Sweet Pry-Bar. (Not to be confused with Delmer's Really Sweet Minivan.) Follow the link, then search Really Sweet Minivan... the only thing more fun than reading about Delmer and his Really Sweet Minivan is hearing him talk about it, but then, I just love Delmer... I digress.
I bought my Really Sweet Pry-Bar for about $8.00 back in 2003 when I was remodeling our house so we could move in. I've spent hours upon hours working with it... quite a worthwhile investment. I learned then that working on, tearing up and repairing stuff around the house is my favorite pastime... When needing to unwind, get challenged and really aggravated, then relax again, some people go get their golf-bag, I go get my toolbox.
For size reference I put my cell-phone down next to it, right after I quit working with it tonight. I meant to write a blog today about how all the round tuits have grown upon one another... but as you can see by the time on my phone and the time on this post it's late, and I still need a shower... more to come.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Blame it on the Goober
Okay, so I was gonna blog tonight about all my little "round tuits" I've been accomplishing.
I felt I needed to blog SOMETHING... I've been so inspired by my friend Terre. She's participating in a "blogathon"; she started at 8am and is blogging every half hour for 24 hours to support the Depression and Bipolar Alliance. What a challenge! If you'd like to follow along, go here.
Anyway, I was going to write a real blog, but my buddy Goober called and proceded to give me down the road for spraying bleach on the walls in my basement to make sure I killed any lingering mold.
At the end of the conversation, he admonished me to go gargle water twice and then drink 2 glasses to wash away any lasting effects of the bleach. I nearly drowned myself.
He knows I'm dumb enough to screw up gargling: I think he's trying to kill me.*
Anyway, I have to go to bed and get rest... I have major cleaning to do in the morning. MOMMA IS COMING! I had the house so clean the last time she visited she didn't wrinkle up her nose even once. I'd hate to let her down.
*playful sarcasm alert for the wit-impared
I felt I needed to blog SOMETHING... I've been so inspired by my friend Terre. She's participating in a "blogathon"; she started at 8am and is blogging every half hour for 24 hours to support the Depression and Bipolar Alliance. What a challenge! If you'd like to follow along, go here.
Anyway, I was going to write a real blog, but my buddy Goober called and proceded to give me down the road for spraying bleach on the walls in my basement to make sure I killed any lingering mold.
At the end of the conversation, he admonished me to go gargle water twice and then drink 2 glasses to wash away any lasting effects of the bleach. I nearly drowned myself.
He knows I'm dumb enough to screw up gargling: I think he's trying to kill me.*
Anyway, I have to go to bed and get rest... I have major cleaning to do in the morning. MOMMA IS COMING! I had the house so clean the last time she visited she didn't wrinkle up her nose even once. I'd hate to let her down.
*playful sarcasm alert for the wit-impared
Friday, July 24, 2009
Substitute for a Blog (or, God is Great, Beer is Good, and People are Crazy)
Since I went crazy blogging last week (no kids, I can do that with no kids, can't do that now) I started to feel guilty for the people who follow this blog.
So, in the interest of providing some kind of entertainment, I decided to pass along something I heard for the first time today and really liked. This may be a huge country song for all I know, I'm pretty clueless as to new music, but I liked it.
So, in the interest of providing some kind of entertainment, I decided to pass along something I heard for the first time today and really liked. This may be a huge country song for all I know, I'm pretty clueless as to new music, but I liked it.
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