Category Archives: random thoughts

Allowances

The girls have started asking me for an allowance.  I tend to agree at age almost 8 (as in this month) and 9, they are old enough to get an allowance.

But I have a few questions.

When did you start giving your kids allowances?  Was it a set amount?  Did they get it no matter what or did they get it based on doing their chores?  (I kind of like the idea of putting the chores on a bulletin board with a dollar each and if they do the chore, they get the dollar–ownership in the process).  Can I be so nosey to ask how much your kids get?  Did/does it go up as they age?

I would love to hear your thoughts on allowances.

Thank you,

This Darn Cold

I don’t even remember going to bed last night.  But when I woke up for more cold medicine it was 9:30 and my hubby was sleeping in the recliner.

Where did he come from?

Last Thursday I started to get a cold.  By Monday it was full blown yuck.  It is interrupting my exercise (which I allow very few things to do), it is affecting my prayer life (it is hard to stay concentrated when you are coughing up a lung), it has already cost us a day of schooling–in our second week.

It’s just a pain in the neck.

But maybe yesterday’s 11 or so hours of sleep will help.

I did manage to do about 20 minutes of one of my workouts this morning before the coughing got too bad and I did join, via phone, a local prayer group.

That’s progress right?

I’ll take what I can get!!!

Do We Ever Grow Up

Do we ever grow up?  Maybe in some ways.  A friend and I were wondering today how we’ve become these women who are so happy to be able to pay bills.  Whew.  And how sad.  So maybe on one hand we do grow up.

But on the other…not so much.

I have decided I do not like reading more than one book at a time.  I don’t like the uneasy feeling that I will never get them done, that I will never get to check them as read in Goodreads.  Honestly, it causes me a great deal of anxiety actually to have a bunch of books going at the same time.  And yet, I do it anyway.

I have piles of books everywhere waiting to be read some more, to the end.  I hate it.  So why do I do it?

Ready for me to admit the ridiculous?

I have a bunch of books going because ladies I really like and admire on Facebook  talk often about how many books they have in process.  They are smart ladies.  Smarter than they know.  And I wanted to be like them.  I wanted to feel smart.

So, I tried it.  And did nothing but suck joy out of reading and cause great anxiety.  I think I have to leave the smart behind and just go back to one book at a time.

That’s what makes sense to my brain.

 

Two Lawns Done

I think too much.  It’s just that.  Plain and simple.  I honestly think it is part of the reason mental illness found a home between my ears.  I stew in my thoughts.  I often can’t let them go.  And things have meaning to me, a lot of meaning.

Take, for instance, mowing the lawn.  Yup.  It is a hot and sweaty job that makes me feel liberated and empowered.

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I tried to mow the lawn for my dad when I was a little girl.  He had this old riding lawn mower.  And at probably 12 or so he let me try to do the lawn.

He wasn’t impressed.

After two attempts, he declared it looked like a racetrack and said I couldn’t mow it anymore.

I learned I was no good at it and that was that.

Another thing I wasn’t good at.

I tried to brush it off, but damn.  I took that thought deep.  I was no good at it.

Then I met the hubby.  We each had our own houses when we met (obviously) and I had this little teeny tiny lawn to mow.  I was paying someone but hubby had an extra mower and taught me how to start it, run it, and mow my postage stamp.

It was liberating.  I loved heading out there to mow my little spot.  I could do it.  I didn’t need someone else for this task.

Once we got married, me mowing the lawn took a backseat as three kids came in four years.  I was nursing one baby or another for 5 years, so I was kind of needed in the house.

Now, they are older and I am back outside part of the time.

I have joyfully taken on the job of mowing the lawn again.

Today, I mowed TWO lawns, while hubby cleaned the kitchen 😉 and then came out and did the trimming of the lawns.

I did it.  I did a task I had been told, and told myself, that I couldn’t do.  And that folks, is empowering.  I feel like a million sweaty bucks.

I love my dad deeply and the anniversary of his death is coming up Tuesday.  You’ll read a nice post about how much I love him, and I do, but right now, if he were here, I would choose the ever mature action of sticking my tongue out at him and saying, “I did it!  So THERE!”

 

Giving Credit

“I didn’t do anything all day.”

“What happened to my day.”

“How is it already bedtime?”

These thoughts ran through my head yesterday.  I felt like I had spun my wheels all day. I knew I had been doing stuff, I just didn’t see any progress.  Where had my effort and time gone?

So I decided to list it out.  And I found I had done quite a bit.

I:

went to church

cleaned the kitchen to get ready for school on Monday.  That is always a big job on Sunday as breakfast is a bigger deal and there is no time to clean up before church.

helped three little girls get their verses for Bible club ready.  That included 5 verses for just one of them!!

wrote lesson plans for Monday.

clocked a route for a 6 1/2 mile run and walked a little over 4 miles of it.

got dinner around.

called the doctor to get a script for pink eye (poor Patrice).

picked up said prescription and then administered it.

fell into bed when it was all done…

Thinking about everything I did was a good exercise for me.  I would suggest you do the same thing.  Go through and write everything you have done when you can’t figure out what you’ve done.  I bet your list will impress even you!!!!

 

 

Note To Self

Note to self:

it takes two days to overcome a missed dose of medication

there is such a thing as a Watusi.  I have always called rear ends watusis, but turns out it is a breed of cattle with huge horns.

Alpacas will not defecate where they sleep

albino peacocks look amazing

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you can take a bus full of kids to a petting farm with an amazing array of animals and the kids will be most interested in the run-of-the-mill barn cat

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reading a book about running is not nearly as cathartic as a good run, but this book is full of info and encouragement that I am soaking in.

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(Thanks Jenny for the recommendation)

my daughter rocks.  She said/did 16 sections in her AWANA book today that included activities and memorization

an HD antennae brings in a lot of channels in our area.  Including one that airs Murder She Wrote.  Caitlyn and I watched a couple episodes last night and she said, “I’ve been so glad to see a commercial!”  I guess going cable free has been more traumatic than I thought. 🙂

I love praying for people.  I really, really do.

 

Sillies

WHERE I’M FROM 

I am  Tabletop, from Windex and Pledge.

I am from the smelly Mitten.

I am from the lilac, the butterfly garden.

I am from being cheap and blue eyes, from Bernetta and Arlene and Smith.

I am from the on-time and church going.

From you don’t sound like your sorry and don’t watch me work.

I am from Free Methodist and attended such college.

I’m from Swedish Kansas fruit salad with chocolate and bread dip.

From the blondes, the and the shorts.

I am from upstairs, my mother’s house, my grandma’s house, and my aunt’s house.

This “Where I’m From” writing template was found here, but I believe this may be the original author.

Grab the template and fill in the blanks to make your own silly poem.

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Here I Sit

I keep opening my blog to share a bit of my life with you.  Day after day I open it.

No words appear, either in my head or on the paper.

The girls and I are almost done with our study on Pandas.  I am hoping to have that finished up today.

Then it is on to the human body.  I gave Caitlyn a skeleton for Christmas that has squishy organs inside of it, so I think it is high time we use it for school.  Okay, so I really bought it for school but put her name on the tag when I wrapped it for Christmas.  I have studies on the skeleton, the eyes, the brain, ear, blood, heart, hair and voice.  We will be studying the human body for a number of weeks.

I’m sorry, I’ve lost my train of thought again.

Currently, I am editing a piece I previously wrote on my blog for my Listen To Your Mother audition on Saturday.  Listen To Your Mother, or LTYM, is a nationwide project with shows in several cities featuring readings by bloggers on some aspect of motherhood; being a mother, having a mother, knowing a mother.  Motherhood.  I auditioned last year and didn’t make it.  I went to the show in our area because a dear friend of mine did make it.  As I sat there, I understood why I hadn’t made it.  Most of the pieces that were read had a bit of an edge to them and the language was often times a little harsh, whereas I had auditioned with one of those cutsie motherhood pieces.  It really did not fit into the show.  This year I am delving into the Bipolar.  It is a bit of a dark piece.  Maybe that will fit better, or maybe this year they will go for the cutsie stuff.  Time will tell.

My mind is blank again.

This kept happening yesterday when I was writing my friend in Bangladesh.  I have no idea how many times I walked away from that letter to try and gather my thoughts.  I feel bad for my friend because I am afraid it makes little sense.  At least there is a care package with it.

I think these blanks are coming from the depression.  I started to slide back into the pit on Saturday.  Things have been rough.  Last night the girls had swim lessons and I am so glad hubby could take them.  I don’t think I could have forced myself out of the house.  I was so desperate to avoid people.  I even needed to avoid my family.  I went to bed very shortly after they got home.  I tried to work on my loom knitting.  I wish the judge who will decide my disability could have seen me–sitting in my bed at 8 pm, flinching when my daughter put her head on my shoulder, then curling up in a ball rocking back and forth because I could not remember, for the life of me, how to do my knitting that I have been doing for quite awhile now.

I’m scared of the pit.  I haven’t had time to recover from the last depression.  Thankfully I have a group of women in my life that get it and will be there when I am screaming and crying that I can’t do this.  Going round after round with the Bipolar is beyond wearing.

But here I go, into the pit, to fight another round.

What To Do This Month

Every month comes with a million tasks, doesn’t it?  Some fun.  Some blah.  Some short-term.  Some long-term.

Here’s what I think  this month holds:

  1. Begin training for the 5k I signed up to run in March.  I recently ran 5k on the treadmill so I know I can do it, I just need to keep up with it.
  2. Simultaneously begin training for the half marathon I agreed to do in October. Tonight is run number 1, one mile.   In phase one of training (8 weeks) includes running 94 miles.  That right there y’all, is crazy talk.  If all this running around doesn’t get some pounds off me, then there really is no hope. 2015-02-09 17.01.21Don’t mind the lump in my shirt from my fitbit.  Where I go, it goes.  Gotta count every last step.
  3. Choose my piece for Listen to Your Mother.
  4. Edit said piece.
  5. Audition with said piece.
  6. Try to actually comprehend and implement meal planning to trim the grocery bill.

Of all those things, number 6 has me the most confused.  I have asked people questions until we are all going crazy, but I just don’t get it.  But then, here I am today with no idea for dinner at all.  None.  Last night we had spectacular twice baked potatoes casserole (if I oh, so humbly, say so myself).  Tonight?   I got nothing.  Hmmm.

I have one pkg of hamburger, one package of ground turkey, one package of pork cutlets, and one package of bone-in chicken breasts.  I’ll take any and all suggestions.  I am out of shake-in-bake, otherwise this would be a simple situation…

 

Linking up with

I Shake My Head

Have I mentioned that I live with Bipolar Disorder?  And that the last few months were bad?  Super bad?  Insanely bad?

Well I do and they were.

I survived, the last few days have been nice, really nice.  I can breathe in and out, I can function.  I want to live.

I got through it with a lot of different coping mechanisms.  The main one being the treadmill.  I was on it several times a day almost every day.

Now?  I don’t want to go anywhere near it.  I haven’t set foot on it in over a week.  It’s not like the treadmill caused the depression, so why don’t I want to walk down there on it?

I also did a ton of loom knitting, making 5 hats in the last month to get through.  The rhythm and accomplishment of making hat after hat made the hours I spent hiding from the world seem acceptable–okay.

How many  hats have I worked on this week?  None.  Not one stitch.  My hands are itching to,  but when it comes to actually picking it up–nope.

There’s a literal barrier there.   It is as real as any moment of the depression.  My mind and body say no, don’t you dare go there.

So I hold off, waiting, hoping the feeling lifts, without the depression returning.

I really like making hats!

Do you have anything you avoid when in depression or out of depression?  Do  you know why?  Or am I just totally nuts? 😉