This is Where I Throw a Fit January 24, 2008

Our air conditioner appears to be broken. I turned it off for a few days because it was so nice outside and I wanted the windows open. Is it just me or has this been an unusually warm winter for south Florida? For pete sakes! So yesterday when I turned it back on it’s as if it doesn’t know how to cool the house off. The furnace keeps running, but no cool air is coming out of the vents. What I gather is that all it is doing is keeping our house from feeling humid. It is doing nothing to cool it off.

So am I going to sweat the next 7 pounds off (yes, seven, I lost another pound — yippee skippy) or what? I am certainly NOT paying for some overpriced air conditioner guy to come out here and flip a switch and wahlah it works. I called and you know what they told me? Just for the TRIP over it would cost $80.00. That’s just to knock on the freaking door! I about dropped the phone and it took every fiber in my body to keep from losing my cool (no pun intended). Grrrrrrrr!!!

See, folks, I often wonder if this is the down side of living in a high falutin stuck up snob golf community where most people here drive BMWs, Mercedes, and Jaguars. Everyone thinks that we are rich. We are NOT rich (at least not in regards to money)!

No word from the bank who holds the mortgage on the house we put an offer on (it’s in pre-foreclosure so we are dealing with an entity, not a person). Our lender says she can close our deal in 2 weeks for sure. I spoke with her today. She locked in an incredible rate for us. But we are sitting ducks until the bank decides it has time to sign our offer into a contract.

I want out of this place!! I want to move into my new house!! I hate waiting!! I don’t want to be patient!! I am whining!! Whining!! WHINING!!!

Ok - thanks. Now I feel better.

They are Filthy January 24, 2008

 My kids had a play date today. It was so much fun for all 3 of us. They are filthy dirty. I love it.

At our current home, there isn’t much of a backyard. What we have is a big porch and then about 15 feet of grass. Beyond that is golf course property. We live next to a tee box. There are many strangers behind our house on a daily basis — all day long. I am a paranoid mom and so I won’t let my kids off the porch for fear they’d run onto the course and get smacked with a high speed golf ball or that some weirdo golfer with sick tendencies would sneak up to my house and kidnap one or both of my children. I am paranoid! Plus there are pools in people’s backyards all around us and so I am afraid they would find a weak spot in the screen on the lanai and drown in someone’s unprotected pool.

P-a-r-a-n-o-i-d!

So I was overjoyed today that we were invited to a play date at my wonderful friend’s home where the backyard is big and fenced in. They got so dirty and they are asleep in their beds with black feet. It’s awesome! It makes me all the more anxious to move into our new home. Then my kids will be dirty every day. It will be wonderful!

Stop Looking at Me January 23, 2008

Or don’t. I seriously get caught up in whether I want the attention or not. In my 20’s, I lu-hu-huved a man rubber necking it to look my direction. It was a game of sorts. It boosted my ego to feel attractive to another man even though most of my adult life I have been completely unavailable. Tease.

But now it sort of gives me the creeps. Especially when I am with my kids. Then the hair stands up on the back of my neck. Chills run down my spine. “What are you looking at, buddy? Can’t you see I have kids? I am not single. Look at my wedding ring, you creep!”

Lately I have stopped wearing eye makeup except for when I want to put in the effort. It’s not that I don’t like eye makeup. I do. I would rather take the time straightening my hair than shadowing my eyes though. Plus, more creases are showing up in my eyelids and that just makes me mad right there.

But they still look. Sometimes I am flattered. Sometimes. Most of the time I want to run and hide or show off the snot stains that the kids wiped on my shoulder to appear less attractive and more like a tissue than a hot date. Ugh!

I don’t know what I’d do if they stopped looking. I know that someday they will. I’ll be old and gray and wrinkled. Gone will be the cuteness, the youth, the vitality, the perkiness, the bubbly me. Settled in my granny clothes, driving a shiny Cadillac (or Mercedes). Visiting my grandchildren. Baking and knitting. Perhaps gardening if I ever decide I like that kind of thing. Talking to the neighbors. Laughing with friends about the good ol’ days. Teasing my husband about what an old fart he’s become.

It’s alright. They can stop looking at me. I might actually like that. I would feel safer and less exposed. Fall into the background. Fade away.

Sigh.

When Push Comes to Shove January 22, 2008

The playground. Now that’s a place to observe humanity. Little kids playing and screaming. Parents smiling and coaxing. It’s so busy and noisy and fun.

But wait…

Look a little closer at them. The kids. They are trying to one up each other. It’s not so obvious at first glance. But it is happening all around the playground.

Two little pigtailed girls see one swing just became available. The fastest one wins. The other one stomps her foot, crosses her arms, and pouts.

Two little boys are climbing the stairs. The bigger one forcefully pushes past the smaller one and has no apologies. He doesn’t even look back to see if the smaller boy is ok. The smaller boy just stares after him with confusion written all over his face.

The rock wall has three little ones staring up to the top. One girl goes for it while smashing the fingers of one of the others who took too long making a decision on whether or not to take the risk. She doesn’t look down to see if the hurt one is ok. No, she scurries to the top as fast as she can never caring for one second who she has stepped on along the way.

Zoom out again. Aren’t they so cute? They are playing with each other. They are laughing and running and sliding and swinging and twirling and jumping.

Pay attention though. They are just like us. The only differences are that they are smaller and less discreet. They aren’t ashamed of their mistreatment of each other. They don’t flaunt it either. They just do it and they don’t think about the consequences of their actions. Consequences? That’s too big of a word for them.

Imagine that’s how we would be (or worse) if we didn’t know right from wrong. If we didn’t care. For children, it’s all about them. They are first. Their pleasure is most important. Sacrifice? No man — sacrifice means temper tantrum magnified 100 times. They are out of control. They don’t mind beating one another to the top. King of the hill they’d say if they knew what it meant.

But deep down — think about it — deep down is our society any different?

Idolizing rich people who society deems successful. Successful based on their possessions. That’s not how I define success. Not anymore.

Lusting after men or women who are perfect and sensual. Perfect? Sensual? Says who? When did slutty, plastic, and malnourished become perfect and sensual?

Mistreating our spouses and children, but treating our clients with respect and dignity. Now isn’t that about as backwards as backwards gets?

Denying God. Having the audacity to deny God. That has to be the most ignorant, self-centered, self-idolizing, egotistical, and arrogant thing people do. But I did it once. I did it with a vengeance. Not that anyone reading this who is guilty of this is off the hook. I’m just simply explaining that I was like that too.

Once. But. NEVER. Again.

Society has to change. It has to. Otherwise, we are no better than children who don’t know better. Or worse, because we DO know better. Don’t we? Don’t you?

Little Miss Sensitivity January 22, 2008

My sweet Brianna. Blonde hair - Hazel eyes - Porcelain skin. She is beautiful.

She is fragile.

I am sensitive. I get my feelings hurt very easily. That’s life for me. My youngest sister, Katie, is the same way. It’s not that I cry a lot. Before I had kids I hardly shed a tear. Sad movies or crazy anger is all that usually provoked the water down my cheeks. And if I did cry it would make me angry. Even if hurt, I would suck it up so hard that my throat would be sore sometimes.

My mother-in-law and sister-in-law are criers. They are so delicate emotionally that they cry if they so much as see someone’s chin quiver. I don’t find this strange behavior. I find it quite feminine. And they are both ultra-foo-foo feminine.

So is Brianna.

Combine my sensitive nature and their delicate emotions and you have my precious little 3 year old. She has had trouble controlling her emotions since birth. The child cries her heart out daily. I thought by now it would start to get better. She screams when she’s angry, she cries very easily, she laughs whole-heartedly, she jumps up and down and dances around when she is excited, her smile takes up her whole face when she’s happy. I can tell exactly what she’s thinking because she wears her heart on her sleeve. She is amazing. She is a handful. She is mine — a gift from God. My treasure.

For the past week I have noticed something emerge that I hadn’t noticed before. She is trying to suck it up. When her feelings get hurt by someone other than me, her dad, or her brother she tries to control her emotions. She smiles, clicks her tongue, puts her tongue in her cheek as her eyes fill with tears. It literally b-r-e-a-k-s my heart. Crushes me. I have been telling her to come over to me. I hug her and whisper in her ear, “it’s ok to cry, sweetie”. That’s all it takes. The flood starts and she wails quietly into my shoulder as I hug her tightly. She hugs me hard and her little body shakes with her sobs. Snap goes my heart - right in half.

My little miss sensitivity. Be gentle with her world. She is fragile.

And the Weight Continues January 21, 2008

 Blah and double blah! I thought for sure by now I would have lost 5 pounds. No! I have lost 2 pounds. Two pounds!!!! That is it. All this muscle crushing exercise. All the chocolate denial. All the eating right and drinking decaf.

For the birds!

However, I will not quit. I will lose 10 pounds by golly. My body does not own me. It has no say. I am determined. It will have heaped on it more exercise abuse. Stupid fat cells. They don’t know who they are messing with!! When I’m jumping around my son’s room doing my hardest cardio kickboxing and jumping moves I say to my wiggle and jiggle, “you are going DOWN flab — you cannot survive this — you cannot rule my wardrobe any longer — I WILL wear my skinny clothes — I WILL win this war!!!!!”

Hee hee. I had a great workout today! It felt good and it was hard and I sweat so much it was disgusting. That is a great feeling — being all covered in sweat from head to toe knowing that I just rocked it!! Pumps me up!!

Now — off to drink my soy milk and eat my made from 2% milk string cheese snack and a handful of cashews. How I would enjoy munching on a bag of chips. But eating chips doesn’t taste as good as being fit feels. That’s my motto!!

Hold Them Tight January 20, 2008

Today reality hit me once again. Life — it is too fragile and so quickly it can be derailed.

I’m about to tell you how I view people who, just like me a few years ago, don’t believe in Christ being the Way, the Truth, and the Life. He is the ONLY way to heaven, folks. The ONLY way. Call me a nutjob wacko holy roller. You can say what you will. You can stop reading my blog. You can write me off as a lunatic. You can walk away from our friendship. Makes no difference. Truth is truth. And it’s not anything I created. It’s in the Word of God, the Holy Bible. Jesus said it Himself. The only way to the Father is through Him (Jesus). Period.

So back to the way I view the unsaved…

Imagine walking on the shore by the ocean with millions of people drowning in the water. One by one you desperately try to save them by lifting their heads out of the water. You talk to them, try to reassure them, you pull their hair off of their faces, but they scream at you to leave them alone. You try again, shouting and crying, trying to tell them there is only one way to be saved from drowning. You explain that they have to hold their heads above the water and swim to shore. But they refuse to believe you and they flail their arms and kick their legs trying on their own strength to stop drowning while you keep explaining to them that there is only one way to stop the impending suffocation. They tell you that you are narrow minded and they can stop drowning on their own. So you go on to the next person and the next and the next. It seems futile and you feel useless until one person finally listens. Finally someone wants to hear what you’ve been trying to tell all the rest and you show him how to paddle and kick and suddenly he has made it to shore. So now he is helping you try to save the others. Then one more makes it. Then one more. Another and another until there are 10 of you. But still — the millions — why won’t they listen?

It may not be an ocean. The people may not be drowning in water. But the lifeless millions are seeking after the wrong things. They are headed down the wrong paths. It’s hard to get through to them.

Christians, please keep praying for the lost. They need God’s touch in order to see. They are blind. They don’t understand. They have been duped. Have compassion for them. They are drowning.

The rest of you — there is only one way to stop drowning. There is only one life worth living. There is a purpose. Find the key and unlock your heart. Open yourselves to the life you were meant to have. I don’t mean health, wealth, and prosperity. I mean faith, joy in spite of pain, peace in unsettling or heartbreaking times, hope, and - most importantly - everlasting life.

Life is so fragile. It is but a vapor. Here today and gone tomorrow. Don’t miss out. The true party comes later.

Thirteen January 19, 2008

For some people that is considered an unlucky number. Superstitions. But in our family it is a very lucky number. If there is such a thing.

My Uncle Jack made up a poetic story about the number 13 and it’s relevance within our family. He is the oldest of 13 children (my dad comes 4th in line). I don’t remember all of the coincidences he talked about, but a couple of them were address numbers that, when added together, equaled thirteen. One such address was the home my dad and his siblings grew up in on Wakefield Ct in Columbus, Ohio. Well, as ”luck” would have it, the house we made an offer on today is 166 ABC Street. 1+6+6 equals what? Yep, 13. It gets better. The street just down from “ours” is called Wakefield. HA!!!!

How do ya like dem apples?

Thirteen really is a lucky number!

Chaos, Clutter, Coughing, Coffee January 18, 2008

Chaos: The offer didn’t go. There is another higher one and we are not willing to budge. So - back to looking. I found a house in my friend’s neighborhood that I super-dee-duper like. We shall see.

Clutter: My house is driving me crazy!! I want to just burn it down and start over. Remember me telling you that I am a clean freak. You’d never, ever know it right now. We are stepping around boxes, over toys, in sticky messes the kid’s juices have left behind, the countertops are overcome with junk, the beds aren’t made, the laundry is about half done, the kitchen stove looks like it’s never seen a clean day. Ants are loving my kitchen floor. I can’t take it - I just can’t take it. But I don’t have time to clean it either. AAAARRRGGG!!!

Coughing: Kids have colds, but no more fevers. Fine time for them to get sick let me tell you. It’s probably from our messy house. Germs galore I am sure!

Coffee: Had my coffee from Starbucks this morning with extra caffeine if that’s even possible because Jeremy keeps waking me up at night. Last night the turd was awake from 2:00 until 4:00. Then Brianna woke up at 5:30 because she had to pee. Can I just take a nap? No, because Friday is my day to babysit my friend’s daugther. No rest for the weary! I’m still jittery from the Venti Skinny Hazelnut Latte I drank about 4 hours ago!

That’s it in a nutshell. I have asked permission from my brother to post pictures of his newborn daughter. I won’t put any kid’s pictures on here w/out their parent’s permission. Stay tuned.

Gimme All the Glory January 17, 2008

I met a man recently who is handsome, healthy, and outgoing. He drives a Hummer and isn’t married. You would think I’d want to introduce him to my sister. Not a chance!

Egotistical Mr. I’m So Important!!! He and Miss I’m So Perfect need to meet because they would be married for centuries. They would feed off of each other; they’re so vain. The guy is good at what he does, but not great. In his mind, and he has seriously said this about himself, he’s better than most in his field. His 22 years of experience, his negotiating power, his no nonsense approach to his business, his dedication to his clients, his world, his way, all the time. LOL!! What a heaping pile of stinky you know what. But it is incredibly entertaining to watch (Holly - you are so right about this!). It almost makes me want to laugh and several times I’ve had to stifle my desire to throw my head back and crack the heck up.

Have I been out of the loop this long? Are normal people like this? Am I like this? Taking credit for fear none will be given. Trying desperately to seem so knowledgable and so on top of things. So ’snap’ I’ll get it for you, I’ll make it happen, if anyone can do it for you it is me, I’m your man (or woman), I know more than anyone about anything and I am, I am, I am, I can, I can, I can.

I think I can.

I think I can.

Therefore, I can.

??

Well, he’s a real treat to interact with. But it strikes me funny at how important he is to himself and how important it is for him to be sure we know how important he is.

Poor guy — if only he knew the way to relieve himself of this burden. He’s become a slave to this materialistic, gotta get ahead world we live in. His flesh is eating him alive. I am waiting for my opportunity to share with him the Way. The only Way to be free from slavery. There are no chains and no physical beatings. But I often wonder if that wouldn’t be more humane. The slavery he is in is internal. I would love for him to be set free.

Important he is. But to know WHY he is important is the true gem. He is important because he was created by God and he has a purpose in this life. And it ain’t to be important to humans.

Freedom! Now that’s important.