nope.

i was going to post tonight, but then tim turned on a stand-up comic performance and i've been distracted. i won't name who-i don't want to promote or condone such viewing. but i have to admit he can be pretty funny. and it's nice to laugh with the hubby. heck, it's nice to just get to see the hubby.

maybe next time.

why i blog

(this picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post. i don't really know why i do these things.)

i don't like the word blog. i really dislike the term blogosphere. although i sometimes really enjoy reading blogs, i have grown somewhat disenchanted. i like to look at crafty blogs, but i never actually craft any of the ideas i see. more like a drug addict, i jump from blog to blog looking for my next visual "fix" that makes me happy for a few moments. then i go to bed way to late and am then sleep deprived and cranky with those that are most important to me. : (

like i said, i have grown somewhat disenchanted. so lately, i have been thinking about about my role in the whole world of bloggity blogs. why do i blog? is this really worthwhile? am i just one more .blogpresspad.com in the over saturated world of blogs? so i really thought about it. my conclusions, in case you care are:

-writing is very therapeutic for me. after cussy days, i can write it all out and then call myself out as the big whiner that i am. it helps put things in perspective for me, big time. it helps me keep track of our full little life and reminds me how hard, hard, hard and wonderful our little life is. it also gives me mental clarity, nailing down thoughts that have been swirling in my brain for too long.

-i like to entertain. because i pretty much only think of the few people who leave comments as my audience, who are people i know and like in real life, it's like trying to make my friends laugh. or whining to my friends. which ever the case may be. one of my dear brothers and i have a similar sense of humor and back in the days of email, we used to send each other stories of funny things that happened to us or that we observed. a weird incident at walmart-mental note to tell brother. made a fool of myself doing....-email brother. this is my way of reaching a much larger audience with my ridiculous observations and enjoyments. and i can't see you rolling your eyes at me when you think i'm just a dork or hear the crickets when my stories deadpan. not that that ever happens. (cricket. cricket.)

-and to be completely honest, because i think honesty is really important, i'll admit that i write in this little space because i hope it somehow helps you. who ever you are. helps you by making you laugh. helps validate your feelings of frustration or helps you realize that there really is a lot to be thankful for. helps you understand that some people in the world (me) are really crazy and thank God you are normal and sane. if i ever wrote anything factual or informative, i would hope to educate you, but because that doesn't happen, please just pray for us crazies in the world and be thankful for your sanity.

i've written before about trying to use my time more wisely. eating my humble pie, i'll admit that i haven't. i haven't broken the facebook curse and still stay up way, way too late on the computer. but i'm renewing my efforts. that's all i can do.

cluster cuss

(proof that i didn't give then away to a nice stranger. you'll understand in five minutes why i *might* give them away.)

seen the movie fantastic mr. fox? it's a good one. without tim i would know nothing about pop culture. so tim made me watch the movie and i found it amusing, because, in a little way i feel like i'm married to mr. fox. tim makes things happen when he really wants them to happen-like getting me to marry him. darn that clever fox.

i'm delineating from my point. in the movie, instead of cursing, they insert the word "cuss" where a curse word would be. instead of "what the hell?!" they say "what the cuss?!"

well, today has been a real cuss of a day!

the day started well until max heard me say to tim, "i'm going to take a shower." max does not like to be apart from me. unless it's his idea. if it is an imposed separation, he gets irate. case in point: max adores my dad. he will go anywhere with my dad and searches my parents house for him. one day, i tried to give my mom a massage and shut the door to have privacy. although he was with papa, because we were forcing him to be separated, he threw a royal fit. i swear i'm in an abusive relationship with my children.

so max screamed and clung to me as i tried to go downstairs. i peeled with off, tried to get my momma ears to ignore him, and went to enjoy a long, quiet shower. just as my stress was starting to melt away, ben stormed into the bathroom announcing he had to poop. in his haste to make waste, he forget to shut the bathroom door, letting in cold air and letting out all my coveted bathroom steam. (i like when the bathroom gets steamy and don't use the exhaust fan. tmi? whatever.) worse, he let max in, who stood next to the tub, ripping at the curtain, and SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. of course ben needed to be wiped and kept announcing the fact to me, but there was no toilet paper in the bathroom. so trying to fend off max, ben and i were yelling for tim while max overpowered us with his screaming. ahhhhhhh, nothing says relaxing quite like that.

and the day pretty much went on like that. like i said, a real cuss of a day.

but then my boys flash me a smile or tim does something sweet amidst the chaos and it brings me back from the brink. some days are normal, but some days, oh the "some days"!! never, until marriage and then children, had i felt such betrayal, rage, and love. gah, i think i'm losing my mind.

(don't worry, i'm just in a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad, very pissy mood. if i weren't such a bitter betty, writing this out would have almost made me smile at the chaos. it did take the edge off, a bit. if only we had some wine. but alas, i guess i'll just have to clean my frustrations away.)

swirly brain

that could seriously be the title of pretty much every post i write. my brain is always a flushing toilet bowl of thought. although i like to think the ideas and concepts i mull over and over and over and OVER are of a little more quality than the contents of an average toilet bowl.

you see, being a generally melancholy person, i have a rather debilitating condition known as "paralysis by analysis". i'm always thinking, but oh how painful the doing part is. i usually just over think an idea until i'm so sick of it that i move on. or i talk myself out of ideas before ever trying them.

i'm so NOT a trial and error type of person it's frustrating. success at first try or not at all. all or nothing-that's me. there are so many things that i can see how the middle ground would be advantageous, but i just can't quite do it. when we had chickens, i hated keeping them in their small pen so i would let them free range. i knew this was best for them in theory, but in actuality, they were getting slowly picked off. would it have been better to have chickens in a pen that occasionally free ranged and were still....alive?! of course. but no-i couldn't let go of the principal that it was best for them to free range. and all the chickens died. those poor girls-God really needed to humble me on that one.

so my brain is swirling with all kinds of thoughts. business ideas, world saving ideas, food ideas, home improvement projects, mary improvement projects....until i get so tired of hearing myself think i almost go crazy. and sometimes i unload these ideas on my poor friends and family. i really wouldn't hold it against them if they rolled their eyes at me and spaced out as i launched into my newest dissertation. but they don't, oh my dear, kind friends. they at least wait until my back is turned to roll their eyes.


(if i ever find my phone cable, i'll post some amusing pictures. until then you might as well stop checking in. the swirly brain might get messy.)

large print

(that title has nothing to do with this post really. it's just the first thing i saw when i looked up.)

i'm here sitting in the library of my youth. i'm in my hometown doing classes for work. i should be working, but, obviously, i'm not. someone else is slaving away watching my children. i should be working, but, i'm not.

i'm in a much more melancholy mood than is helpful for my work. i try to muster all my energy and enthusiasm for class, and then feel the adrenaline wear off as i head home. but i just don't have the pep today. they stare blankly at me, and i'm really tempted to just stare back at them until they respond. but the tough gal routine doesn't win them over in the way i feel it's necessary. i might need to bring candy tomorrow.

oh so many thoughts that i could pour out about this "hometown" of mine, or this library, or this job, or this melancholy. but i'm tired. and i need to go.

chatty benny

ben is a talker. and a questioner. and a very interesting kid. here are some of our conversations of late.

ben: momma, when i'm as big as daddy will i still live with you and daddy and will max still live with you?
me: well, probably not ben. mommmy and daddy don't live with our parents anymore. you and max will probably have your own houses.
ben: nooooo. i want to still live in this house.
me: well, if it's God's will for you to still live in this house when you're daddy's age, that's fine with me.
ben: (looking upwards) God, can i still live with my parents when i'm my daddy's age?
(i was REALLY curious as to what was going to happen/be said next.)
ben: (very matter-of-factly) God said yes. (and then he walked out of the kitchen.)

driving home tonight from a wonderful evening with friends and family ben had several cute/funny things to say.

ben: momma, i'm really missing my data. (the way he says da-da sounds more like data because he runs it together.)
me: i know buddy. it's hard when daddy works so much. we can pray for daddy that he has a good night at work. and i'll pray for you to be strong, buddy.
ben: thanks momma. do you really miss your husband?
me: yes ben, i do.

a little while later, ben was chattering away and i really wasn't listening until he said, "oh, i'm sorry momma. i won't ask anymore questions. you need to focus on driving. right?"

and still yet later (because of course he couldn't just fall asleep like max)
ben: mom, i really want an attic at our house like in the penguin movie.
me: well, our upstairs can kinda be like an attic. would you like it if we pretend it's an attic.
ben: no. an attic needs to have a ring, with a string, that you pull down and steps come out. then you go up the stairs and there's a huge telescope there.
me: hmmm. i don't know about that, ben.

our life is never dull.








but i wouldn't have it any other way. i think. ; )

hearth pants

this is the story of tim's dazzling pants and my husband, the designer.

our house is cold in the winter. we have an awesome woodburning stove that heats most of the house up really well, but we are lazy and keeping a fire burning constantly as the sole source of heat is a lot of work. well, it's more the wood collection that is the main issue, but, well, never mind. instead, we usually give in and rely on our inefficient furnace. at night, once the boys are tucked into their warm beds in their cozy rooms with thermostat controlled space heaters, we turn the heat way down.

tim does not get as cold as i do and gets tired of my whining and overall grumpy attitude about being cold. whenever possible i punish him for not collecting firewood by touching his bare back with my ice paws and wedging my cold feet into his knee pits in bed.

because tim is kind hearted, but still not motivated enough to get wood for a fire, we made me some "hearth pants" last winter. calling them hearth pants would imply that they are to be worn around a fire. not true. no, the hearth pants replace the fire. they are a pair of tim's sweat pants sewn together with the early 90's kstate rap pants i had gotten at the goodwill while in college. warm-yes. fashionable-no.

i resisted wearing them because nothing says frumpy quite like men's xL sweat pants worn under poofy at the top, tight at the bottom hammer pants. and they are heavy. wearing the pants was like wearing those subtle leg weights, but in bed. it was an effort to roll over.



(edited to clarify, per donkeyknight's comment about my "washcloth socks"--those washcloth socks are part of the hearth pants-the part i actually appreciate the most. they are the xL sweats that stick out the bottom of the rap pants and make for cozy slippers or booties. tim has to really stretch the pants to use the booties.)

but tim was off the hook. whenever i complained about the temp of the house, implying that he should get firewood, he would cheerily offer to get me the hearth pants.

i honestly only wore them a couple times-to bed when tim was gone and i couldn't stand shivering myself to sleep.

at some point tim realized that his fabulous creation was one size fits all and that he, too, could enjoy the luxury of such stunning pants. many a late night, the hearth pants warmed him as he gamed in the chilly family room. they are also his go-to pants for snow adventures, as shown in the previous post and the following picture.



(my guys preparing to go out into last winter's late march snow.)

this winter tim had somehow forgotten about the hearth pants, which i had buried in the bottom of his bottom dresser drawer. one night he was cold and was lamenting that he used to have a pair of sweatpants, but didn't know what had happened to them. when i reminded him that they were half of his glorious creation, the hearth pants, his eyes lit up. he gasped, "the HEARTH PANTS!! where are they??" he quickly unburied them and marveled at his genius for creating such wonderful pants.


the same night tim made the hearth pants, he also made me a "nursing tunic". again, my complaint was cold-based, chilled when i lifted my shirt to nurse max. so tim took an old undershirt of his (again size xL, hence the "tunic" part of the name, i suppose) and cut flaps for "easy access". the shirt was renamed the "booby buffet" but was never worn. absolutely no pictures were taken and i think i eventually cut it into rags.

tim has not added any more garments to his clothing line, but when he does, i will reveal them, and their wonderful names, here.