03.11.03

Today, Monkey is seven years old.

I could have sworn she just turned two.

Seven years ago I was propped up in a hospital bed, with 12 of my "closest" family members, watching Perry Mason, and counting to ten between pushes.

I only counted like four times.

(Don't hate me. My girly bits were on display for every person I was related to because the nurse never asked them to leave.)

(I've since learned to assert myself.)

Last week Monkey informed me that she should get a cell phone when she turns seven.

And that she wants to dye her hair black and blue...

Um.No.

I thought I had seven more years before this came up.

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Happy Birthday, Monkey!

(stop growing already.)

I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

I fell off the wagon.

OOOF!

I had a terrible run on Friday. It was forced, and achy, and just all around not a good time.
Saturday morning I woke up just not feelin' it.
So I skipped.

Sunday, was supposed to be my rest day but I got my butt out of bed.

(at 10.)

I put on my running clothes, went downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, ate my yogurt, and sat in front of the TV and watched an entire Planet Earth DVD.

Then the Vegas Race.

Seriously. NASCAR on a 65" TV. It's like you're driving!

Then I did some yard work. Moved the fire pit to a "prettier" spot.
Burned some brush. Made a mulch box. Chased the horses. Played with the puppies.

Basically everything that I've been putting off since we moved.

Monday came.

I've totally talked myself down. I'm just not feeling it. I don't want to run. In fact, I'm dreading it, but I know if I don't that I'll make an excuse every single day and never get back in the game (or my cute shorts.)

So, I went home. I started dinner. I changed into my running clothes, and down the road I went.

Warm-up: stretching the shoulders, talking myself up, breath-in breathe-out.
Run 3 walk 1: singing Free Fallin' makes 4 minutes pass quickly.
Run 3 walk 1: feeling pretty good.
Run 1 1/2: up a big ass hill.
Curse myself for thinking I could run up that hill, after 2 days off, and not want to lay down and die at the top.
Walk 45 seconds: until the world stops spinning, calves stop screaming, and the fire in my lungs is extinguished.
Run 5!: downhill momentum is a beautiful thing.
Walk 1
Run 4: to impress the 3 passing cars heavy traffic.
Cool down.

I did it! I got back out there and ran.

I Am Wonder Woman!

I was back in time to finish making dinner before the Cowboy got home.

A bottle of water. Meat, Rice, Veggie.

A (honestly, just one.) (large.) glass of "Mommy Juice".

By 8:00, I was dead to the world!

and I feel AWESOME!

My Own Best Friend

I may or may not have actually had more than one of these conversations recently.

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(me) "Hi! Will you be my friend?"

(random 1) "Uh, I am your friend."

(me) "Sweet! Lets hang out."

(random 1) "I'm busy."

(me) "Ok, lets hang out when you're not busy."

(random 1) "I'm always busy."

(me) "Well what are you busy doing? Maybe I can help, or be busy with you."

(random 1) "Mostly, I'm busy hanging out with my friends."

(me) "So, you're too busy hanging out with your friends?"

(random 1) "Yeah, I have alot of friends."

(me) "So we can be friends but we cant hang out?"

(random 1) "Yea, pretty much."

(me) "That's not a friend."

(random 1) "Well I still think were friends, always. No Matter What."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

(me) "Hi! Will you be my friend?"

(random 2) "Uh, whats in it for me?"

(me) "Being my friend is in it for you."

(random 2) "Thats it?"

(me) "Yeah!"

(random 2) "Nothing else?"

(me) "Well, I'm a pretty awesome friend."

(random 2)"I have enough friends."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

(me) "Hi, can I be your friend?"

"Sure."

(me) "Cool. Wanna get some coffee and maybe go for a walk?"

"Sure."

(me) "So, what's your name?"

"Me."

(me) "Hi, Me. We should probably keep our voices down so all these people dont think we're talking to myself."

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Yoga, Boobs, and Office Space

Why is it that every time I start to do something awkward in my office, like research on breast augmentation or yoga practice, I get interrupted? Yet, if I'm just standing at my desk playing on Facebook or reading the doom-and-gloom, everyone leaves me alone.

It never fails.

After and hour of this:


No phone calls, No visitors, No irritating nosy more-OCD-than-I co-workers popping in.


I decide to bust out this:

or attempt


and then there was the time I was looking at this: CLICK! when the boss walked in.

What do they thing this is, a place of business or something? I'm blogging here.

They, my co-workers and my boss, just laugh at me. There really isn't anything I do that suprises them anymore. Maybe the boob thing, but even that didnt generate a negative comment or snicker.

I just wonder why it is that if I stand here and do nothing all friggin' day, no one needs me. But the second I try to "better" myself, everybody needs something 'right now'.

Don't Cowboys Ride Horses and Drive Big Trucks?

Recently, I promised the Cowboy that I wouldn't charge anything else to my credit card. We are consolidating a few things in order to pay them off at a lower rate (blah-blah-blah) and save bu-ku-bucks for Hawaii.

I, oh so responsibly, told Blondie and Princess that we absolutely could not go shopping "just to look", suspended my B&N Nook account and haven't even opened iTunes this week because there is always "just one" new CD song, that I "need to buy, today."

(OK, so technically I cant actually suspend my B&N account. But I've not purchased any new books in the past week, which is so the same thing.)

The other day he called me at work, from a car dealership and said, "Honey, can you come test drive this car, I think I'm gonna buy it."

(dot dot dot)

I tried, in vain, to talk him out of it.

That man is as thick as the Great Wall of China sometimes.

I told him to leave the car at the dealership, go home, and that we could talk about it. I explained that, if it was meant to be, the car would still be there for us to purchase when the dealership opened the next morning.

I thought he understood that I wasn't saying "You can not buy the car, ever."
I was merely saying, "You should not buy that car, today."

I'm naive.

This was sitting in my driveway when I got home.




This is not for me to drive.

He "let" me drive it home from our friend's birthday party because... well it doesn't matter why.

First, "This is not a good year for you to get your boobs 'enhanced'."

Then, "You really need to watch your frivilous spending; And yes, $50.00 flip-flips are frivilous... I dont care if they're designed to boost your booty."

Now, "Honey, I work hard and I commute further than you. I deserve the new car."

(sigh.)

I am so going to buy new running shoes tomorrow.

and likely those flip-flops also!

Anything but That!

Monkey ate something rancid and threw up for 2 days.

Poor thing.

I dont do vomit. I can handle blood, and guts, and most poo-related incidents without gagging. But vomit... NOPE! I knew going into motherhood that this would eventually be a problem, and have been fortunate enough to avoid it for nearly 7 years.

Fortunately, we have Blondie. She rescued me yesterday.

Monkey was leisurely sipping her soup, when she suddenly got that "Oh-no, not again!" look on her face. She jumped up, ran (or stumbled) through the kitchen and living room, made it to the doorway of the laundry room and lost it right there on the carpet... then proceeded into the laundry-bathroom and finished her business in the proper place. She's a trooper.

I tried to help. Really.

But the mere sound of someone upchucking makes my face pucker and my throat heave.

I think Blondie caught on to this, because she jumped in and said "I've got this, ewww... you go run or something."

So. I Did.

I left my 14 year old step-daughter to clean my baby girls vomit out of the carpet, while I got some fresh air and an awesome run.

Sure, I felt mildly guilty, but Monkey didnt need me. She just went back to laying on the couch, looking all cute and pathetic. And Blondie knew that someone else cleaning the ick out of the carpet was better than my futile attempt, and ultimate addition to the problem, would be.

On the way home I grabbed some Arm-and-Hammer Carpet Deodorizer (light scent my ass.)to try to "help", and brought Blondie her favorite wildberry smoothie.

Then made her dinner.

And did her chores.

and she loves me!

Test #1

There is one secret to "self-help" that I havent read in any book, and I've read my share of books. Do you know what it is?

The biggest step toward change is implementation. None of the principles, incites, or 12-step programs are going to do a lick of good if you don't put them to practice.

I'm reading 2 incredible books right now. Gretchen Rubin's "The Happiness Project" and Joseph Murphy's "The Power of Your Subconscious Mind". Both are motivational-change your perspective-books. . This whole, adopting a new outlook in order to have a happier home/mentally healthy mind, thing has been a long time coming, and I discovered both of these little gems at the same time. I'm not going to try to summarise either because I'm only about half way through each, but I am making a conscious choice to implement the key concepts: Take a moment and pause. If I change the way I think about/approach things, I can change my life. It's going to be a challenge, but with statements like: "Never finish a negative statement; reverse it immediately, and wonders will happen in your life." (The Power of Your Subconscious Mind pp.19)

Today was my first test.

Why did I get so irked with the Cowboy? He kindly offered to call the local sheriff's department to get me some information, and when we realised he did not ask all of the necessary questions, he even called them back. Yet by the time he conveyed the information to me, I was irritated that he didn't get all of the information the first time and spiraled downward into being completely annoyed that he is home sick, when he is not too sick to be at work, and hasn't done anything but play PS3 games all day; yet when I am sick, I still have to watch Monkey (because he wont dare be late for work in order to take her to school), get laundry done, vacuum, clean the kitchen, and make dinner for everyone.

How on earth did I go from a lovely lunchtime conversation and my husband doing something kind for me, to being so completely aggravated that I don't even want to talk to him? This is exactly the kind of thinking behavior I am trying to halt. No more negative, selfish thinking. No more, poor me, where is my gold star, I want some credit- recognition- or gratitude thinking. I do all of the things I do, for myself (truly.) No one else cares if the house is a mess or if I actually stay in bed (or on the couch) when I am sick. I just can not stand to waste an entire free day, sick or not, away from the office. Idle time does not bode well for me. So it is completely unfair of me to be irritated with my "sick" husband because he is still in his pajamas at noon-thirty. There are tons of things to get done, but he is home sick. He should be doing nothing but relaxing, playing video games and eating the left over pizza. And when I get home, there should be a whole pile of used tissues on the floor, remnants of what he's consumed today strung all over the kitchen, an unmade bed, and three teenagers and a six-year-old looking at me asking "What's for dinner."

And I'm going to smile and ask; "What would you like?"