Bribes are the bomb!

As I mentioned earlier, both kids were asleep when it was time to go to the Mom and Me WW meeting. Instead, I went to the next meeting. It wasn't a designated Mom and Me meeting, but I packed the little ones some snacks (apples and cheese) and promised them ice cream if they behaved.
I know. I'm one of those. I bribed my kids to behave. Really, it was just incentive. Reward! Okay, I'm justifying now. However, do you know what? My weight was down a tad AND they were super well behaved.

So, this is how the morning ended up (well, it was 12:30, so it was more like afternoon).


WIN!

FAIL!

Well, *I* woke up in time to go to the Mom and Me WW meeting, but my kids haven't. I've decided not to wake them. Nope, that would not be wise.

I suppose it's naptime for mama, too. :) Maybe the hubster will be home in time for me to head to an evening meeting.

Randomocity

A friend of mine sometimes has the best random blog posts ever. I'm going to rip her off. :)

I'm tard (as in sleepy, folks!). I need to get to sleep soon, so that I can make it to the 9:30am Mom and Me WW Meeting.

I need my hairs cut. The last two times they've not cut the back short enough, and it's cool for a week, but after that it grows out and is all weird. The front rocks, though.

Speaking of hair, I found some L'Oreal Preference Light Auburn in my cabinets. I also had exactly 2oz of developer left. That's all it took to make up my "omg, what color do I color my hair???" dilemma.

I wish Hank could find a job that didn't stress him out. He likes the people he works with, but it's the industry. If the house were paid off, we could just both go work as Walmart greeters. WOOT!

My kids have been cereal free for a couple days now. It's been easier than I thought. Ezra loves oatmeal and Anna loves yogurt and eggs. Another WOOT!

The kids are watching old Looney Toons cartoons. I love it. Maybe I'm getting old, but they really don't make cartoons as awesome as Looney Toons anymore.

I miss Allison. She's out of town with family, so she's in good hands. However, I still miss her.

Speaking of that kid, I'm proud of her. She and another girl organized a whole girls' sleepover at church where they will be doing a Bible study, playing games and talking about boys, dating and sex. They (along with the Youth Director and Intern) even scored a Professional Speaker for the night.

I have issues with feeling as if I look feminine enough. I should get over it. The hubby thinks I'm the bomb, why shouldn't I?

Anna's jacked up bangs are starting to look really cute. (Backstory - she chopped them off. Literally. She didn't want bangs and assumed you just cut them off to get rid of them.)

I love Facebook. I feel as if I get to harmlessly stalk all sorts of friends and family from the past and present.

Finding so many people on Facebook makes it a little heartbreaking when there are a few friends I absolutely cannot find, no matter how hard I search.

Does anyone go to MySpace anymore?

Speaking of social networking, I have found a reason to frequent Twitter. Kanye, how you entertain me, you strange, egotistical and talented man.

My hubby is awesome. He works hard so that I can have a job raising our kids myself. I sometimes get aggravated at having to be their caregiver 24/7, but I wouldn't want the job to go to anyone else, and this time is fleeting. My teenager is a daily reminder.

Speaking of her, wasn't she just learning to walk and talk the other day? Now she's going to be in high school. *gasp*

Your Authentic Self

It sounds so cliche , doesn't it? Something Oprah would speak of. (Isn't that where it originated? I'm not sure. I have to admit, I'm not much of an Oprah fan, though she has tons of admirable qualities, but I digress.)

The point is that I'm really trying to find the "real" me. How do I want to be and live when others aren't around to think about. Part of my personality is that I worry a lot about what others think. I shouldn't, but I do. I keep hearing one friend in my head telling me to "grow some balls" and get over it, and while she can be a brash person, she is a person I greatly admire.

I try to give off a certain image to differing people, and sometimes the conflict. I don't do it intentionally, I suppose; I'm just terribly afraid of people turning their noses up at me. Maybe it comes from growing up poor. I remember feeling less than other friends and schoolmates who had a lot more. I remember a television set that had a pair of tension pliers (is that even what they're called?) attached where the VHF knob used to be. That dates me a little, doesn't it? HA! I remember my parents driving old ugly cars. I remember my dad's drinking and both parents' tempers. All of it made me feel as if I had to put on a facade for others. Maybe that's why I act the way I do, and maybe it isn't. It's pointless to go over the why without actually trying to change it.

It manifests itself when I'm with friends outside of my church and/or faith. I proudly proclaim to be a Christian (and I am, though a pretty flawed one), but feel the need to show them I'm not some judgmental prude. Granted, most of the Christians I know aren't judgmental prudes anyway. I want to be hip, cool and bohemian without suburban mommy friends thinking I'm strange.

I've worked on this some. I mean, I had to. I chose to have two out-of-hospital births with my last two children, and that had some friends and family a little aghast. It was one of those things I felt strongly enough about that while I hated the comments, I dealt with it. Especially as I walked around at nearly 3 weeks past my due date, and random strangers would ask when I was due. You should see the looks when you reply, "A couple weeks ago." So, maybe I fibbed a little to strangers.

Either way, the point is... How do I find out who I am? Maybe I already do, I just need to stop letting my need for acceptance get in the way.

Getting Older...

It's funny. I want to look young. I don't want to look like a teenager or anything, but I want to look a little younger than my actual age (almost 34, for those keeping track). The funny thing about this is that I can't wait to be older. I think older women are simply beautiful. I love silver hair. The softening of a face by a few lines. In most cases, there's a lot of wisdom behind that silver hair and those lines. Though I've colored my hair since the ripe old age of 15, I know that when it is all silver, I will stop. It's not as if I'm in a hurry, because I think we should try and enjoy each stage of life for what it is, but it is also not something I fear in the slightest.

...and how's that for my first blog post in months? I will refrain from promising to post more. I will try, though. :)

Mo Money Mo Problems...

Okay, not really. I think "mo money" would be a fabulous thing right now.

I feel so badly for Hank right now. I know he feels like he works his butt off, and everything around us is breaking, and we can't save. We need new brakes for the van, but that's no new thing. He was planning on doing that this weekend. Then, he went to get his oil changed, and noticed there was a bolt in the sidewall of one of his rear tires. They needed to be replaced anyway, but he was hoping to hold off. He went to the tire shop (where he'd had it inspected, and really liked the guy), and they replaced them. Fine, but now the brakes would take a back seat.

Then last night the AC died. He looked, and the fan wasn't turning. He called an AC company, and thankfully, that was less than $200, but still. It's a pain.

Oddly enough, these are the times I'm most positive. Don't get me wrong, it sucks. However, I think I go into "mental survival mode" and start really counting all of my blessings. When I realize that these little things suck, but I'm not in some third world country living in a one room mud hut with my entire family crammed in. They damned sure don't have AC. They damned sure don't have a car, or even a grocery store to walk to. I know that all sounds silly, but it puts things in perspective. Sometimes I think things like this happen almost to knock me off of my high horse of thinking I deserve certain things. I don't deserve a darned thing, materially speaking. It's all bonus. Life is good.

Heavy Man... Heavy...

Disclaimer: This is not some funny, witty post about the silly goings on of mine and my family's life. Most of my posts are, and I like it that way. I love my family. However, this is not one of those times.

Six years ago today, my mom committed suicide. My mind tells me that sometimes someone can be so depressed, that they are unable to see beyond their pain. I've been there, at times. My heart feels much differently. I feel like it was the most selfish thing she ever could've done. I want to scream at her. I've had dreams where I've done so. Not even so much for me. More so for my kids. My mom helped me raise my oldest daughter, and they were very close. My youngest daughter was just eight weeks old when she killed herself. (As an aside, I often just say she died. It sounds a lot less violent and messy that way, but the truth is that she didn't simply die. She made a conscious decision not to exist on this earth any longer.) She would never get my youngest son. I am still taken aback when he asks me where my mommy is.

I look through her journals, and regularly contemplate throwing them in the trash. After I pick through all the spelling errors (NERD!!!), I find it quite ironic to see how often she wrote of my Aunt Beverly's suicide. She knew the pain of losing a loved one at their own hand. She would write about how angry she was with her sister. I remember her telling me how awfully selfish it was, many times. She would recall the moment where she, my aunts and uncles relayed the news to my grandma, and how she made the most horrible sound with her cry. That nobody should ever hear something like that. How she couldn't stand to see her mother in so much pain. How a mother shouldn't lose a child, and how she especially shouldn't lose them this way.

By the way, I didn't get to know my Aunt Beverly terribly well, because I only got to see her sporadically. She did live with my grandparents for a while when she was contemplating moving to the town we lived in. She was there through the last half of my pregnancy with Allison, and through quite a few months of Allison's life. She was my oldest's first sitter, and she was especially proud of her little great-niece.

It's funny the emotions this anniversary can bring. To be quite honest, I'd forgotten about today. Don't get me wrong, I knew it was coming, and I have never forgotten that June 2 was the day she ended her life. Never. It's just that, in the hubbub of daily life, I often forget the date. I was simply going about my morning routine... Hoping Ezra would sleep in (FAIL!!! HE DIDN'T!!! ), so that I could catch a small cat nap. However, before I even sat down to sneak a few ZZZs on the sofa, I checked Facebook, and I was quickly reminded.

I wonder when I'll get over being angry with her. I mean, I'm not angry all the time, and thoughts don't consume me. It's just that when I really sit and think about it, I get angry with her. It reminds me that I'm in a special club that I never signed on for. I have two cousins and one second cousin who have lost their mothers to suicide. It's the dirty secret I don't like to speak of. Not so much that I'm ashamed. It's very uncomfortable, to say the least. People don't know what to day, and they want to comfort you.

I'll end this by saying that I do still love my mom. Angry? Yeah. I don't hate her. I still love the other two souls in my family who took their own lives... My Aunt Beverly and my cousin Kim. However, if I don't feel like commemorating the anniversary (or anniversaries), this is why.

Much love, and God bless. I promise to come back here and sporadically post about my silly family life. My wonderful, hectic, silly family life.