excuses, excuses

I feel like I’ve been on the dark side of the moon. Not really lost, exactly, just not in the mood to do anything beyond what needs to be done. I’ve been busy enjoying my kids and husband and my cute little dog, reading some really awesome books, and playing Plants vs. Zombies on the XBox and Spore on the computer.

Things that have changed since last I wrote:

1. Stephen, Bonus Son One, has gone, this time for good, probably. He couch crashed with us for over a year before finally being able to get his military issues worked out, and now instead of being a reservist Marine Corp. he is active duty in the Army. After three false starts, six months ago he really did leave. First he went to Fort Bragg in North Carolina. Although he made it through training for airborne, he chose to opt out on special forces and be reassigned to a different unit. He came home for a week earlier this month, and now he’s in Italy for two years. I know that I ‘m only supposed to feel proud, but I also feel worried for him, because regardless of who gave birth to him, he’s a son to me in my heart, and a mother worries when her kids aren’t around. And he is so very far away… but I am really proud of him. He’s a neat guy. And I really, really like him.

2. We moved. Don’t even get me started on the level of crazy my former landlords got to; suffice to say, they have issues. After the stove broke in that place, and the huge fallout behind it, Joe and I decided that it would be best for everyone if we moved. So come tax return time, that’s what we did. We moved from that house to one just down the street, one that’s about 30 years newer and a whole lot nicer, with an actual company for a landlord instead of Crazy T and her husband. We have AC, guys. It’s been five years since I lived in a place with AC; I almost didn’t know how to act. The rooms are smaller but the kitchen is awesome and the tradeoff is SO worth it. Especially considering what they did to the next tenant; they took his deposit and his rent for five months and didn’t pay the mortgage, and didn’t say anything, and when the mortgage company foreclosed, didn’t answer or return their tenant’s calls or emails. Joe and I feel like we totally, totally dodged a bullet there.

3. In big, huge, giant news… I’m going to homeschool the wee beasties this next year. The short explanation for that is because the state of California has cut billions from our education budget and the result of that has been drastic cuts in our schools. Larger class sizes, fewer teachers and staff, different programs being cut… you name it, it’s been affected. After much deliberating, discussion, and research, I made the decision to take them out and homeschool. It’s going to be very interesting, but I’m excited. And nervous.

4. And, back to school I go, as well. In short, I want to buy a house. I’m sick of paycheck to paycheck living. Tired of barely pulling through, one month after the next. Some weeks we have less money than we have people in the family in the bank account, and that bites. So that means me getting a job. The problem is that I have a very limited skill set, so any job I get is going to be minimum wage, weird hours, and not enough overall. So I’ve looked into different options and decided to go with the dental hygienist program. I have to have several pre-requisite classes first, so I’ll start there. Realistically, we’re talking about three, three and a half years before I get my degree and can go to work. However, it is what it is and we all think this is the best route. If we’re ever going to be able to buy a house, this is the best way.

5. I’m taking a trip in Virginia to visit some friends I met via a social network called Cafemom. I’ve “known” these women for the better part of two, three years and some of them I’ve been lucky enough to meet in real life (I went to visit my best friend in Texas a year ago and several of my Cafemom friends lived close enough to get together). I’m so, so, so excited to meet my friends. This is going to be such a good time! I’m really looking forward to it.

And that’s that, as they say. More later.

thankful!

It’s Turkey Day, y’all. Hope everyone had a happy one!

As for me and mine, we had a lovely one. As per usual, Man got the turkey in the oven verrah early (he’s totally in charge of it; I don’t wanna) and thus it was ready by noon. I made all the side fixings, and we had a pretty good feast. The kids were totally excited by all the food. And as we sat around feasting, I felt really good that we were able to provide this for them. I know that there are a lot of people out there who can’t.

We spent the day eating and goofing around and reading. I had a couple glasses of wine and had a nice buzz happening. Then I got really, really tired and took a really, really good nap.

My good friend Friend came down and had dinner with us; she brought a delicious pumpkin pie (MADE WITH REAL PUMPKIN!!) just for me. I should share it buuuuut…. no. All for me!

I’m kinda kidding, and kinda serious about that. Not sure which way I’m going to swing yet.

I called my father earlier and it was nice talking to him; he’s still plugging away out there in PA. My brother and sister are doing good, but his dad isn’t doing so well; Grumpy is 85, and yeah… not so hot. Dad says his health has really declined. But he’s not in any pain… so that’s good.

So that’s a rundown of our Thanksgiving. It was good; can’t complain!

i should be disappointed, but i’m not

I lost my voice yesterday. My kids have all had the flu, and I caught it, but only for one day. What stayed around was this lingering, nagging cold. Not the worst cold I’ve ever had but still, annoying. Well, yesterday I woke up and realized that my voice was taking a hiatus and in its place was this squeaky sounding thing that did not lend itself to getting the respect that I should get from my various offspring. Meaning that they found it HI-larious that their mom sounded like Mickey Mouse on speed.

They kept asking me to do things, like swear. And then laugh. I really should beat them more…

Today, though, my voice is back! And so is the respect!

I’ve been working on a new afghan lately and thought that last weekend I would have finished it. It’s one of those that you crochet several pieces and then assemble them and sew them together. Well, upon assemblage, I realized that original creator of said afghan must have been a garden gnome because the afghan was that small. Could comfortably cover up my dog (who is about the size of a garden gnome), but not a whole grown up type person like… say… me.

So after some brainstorming, included ideas like making the border, like, really really big or just carrying forth and just giving it to the dog after all, I finally decided to just go ahead and double the number of afghan pieces and make the afghan twice as big. And THEN it should be big enough for one person, especially since the border will add to the size. This, however, creates more work for me and sets the time frame for completion back another three weeks.

I really should be kinda bummed about this because I have a few other afghan projects lined up after I finish this one that I really want to do, but… I’m not disappointed. I like crocheting. More than that, I like solving problems that I can solve. I guess the problem solving thing  has more to do with the fact that I’m kind-of a control freak and less to do with the enjoyment of crocheting, so maybe being happy about solving this kind of problem shouldn’t give me the kind of glee that it does since it’s feeding an issue that I really should be working on instead of enabling. However, that does not negate the fact that I am kinda excited about doubling the size of my afghan because the original pattern was too small. Either that says more about my life (or lack thereof) than is healthy or I really should get some therapy.

Or maybe I should stop overanalyzing the hell out of everything, including (especially) my own motives. But I think that is also part of the whole control freak thing, though, so I don’t know that I actually can without some sort of pharmaceutical intervention, and dood, all I want to do is finish the afghan!

And that is where that leaves me, today.

following the path of least resistance

I can’t believe I spelled that right on the first try. I bet you didn’t know it, but I am a wretched speller. The reason you didn’t know that about me is because I’m, like, Queen of Spell Check Using. Only don’t call me that because it makes me sound less serious than I really am, and I am pretty fucking serious most of the time.

Seriously.

So today I was thinking that I should get dressed and act like a productive member of society only here’s the thing; I don’t wanna. And then I was all “oh my gods, Jenna, you’re such a looooser, what do you do all day?” to which I replied “I am NOT a loser! And I do stuff all day, just… you don’t know everything I do!” and then I realized that once again I am having an argument with myself and… losing.

Here’s the thing; I am lazy. Like, extremely. I don’t live in a mess of a wreck or anything- stuff gets cleaned and picked up. But it’s more of a haphazardly type thing, like I see it and clean it up. And if it takes me a few days to picking up that rolled up sock on the floor that missed the hamper, or the pieces of paper that didn’t quite make the trash can, or whatever thing it is, then it takes me a few days. And then sometimes I’m on it like white on rice, and I go all insane and clean like a maniac and life and my house smells like Lemon Mr. Clean.

The problem with going all insane and cleaning is that invariably it gets dirty again. And I seriously hate that. I have it in my head that once I expend all this energy in cleaning something, it should fucking STAY clean! Like, forever! But it only works like that in soap operas. Have you ever noticed that in soaps, the houses are ALWAYS clean, and no one is ever actually cleaning? No? Just me…? huh…

Anyway.

Where was I? Oh yeah… cleaning…

Um.

I think I’ll go do something else.

wide open spaces

I’m totally a stay at home mom. Now complete with little purse sized dog and a mini-van. Kids go to school, Man goes to work and I hang out here and think of new and exciting things to do. Sometimes I even bake cookies and homemade bread. Right now I’m sipping a cup of java in my favorite elephant mug.

A complete and total stereotype, I am.

I’m not complaining! I’m not, like, bored or unhappy or anything (that’s what the anti-depressants are for!); I dig my life and all that. How could I not? It’s just that sometimes I look at myself and I feel like… what should I do NOW?

Here’s the truth; I procrastinate. I look at things and think, could I do that tomorrow? Next week? And if the answer is yes, then that is when I do it. The only things I don’t procrastinate on are things that I can’t; take, for example, appointments. I am ever prompt. If I say I’m going to be somewhere, then that’s where I am. I get the kidlets to school on time and I make sure dinner is ready at roughly the same time every evening. So I can DO it… whatever IT is, but I choose NOT to. Make sense?

A couple of months ago I decided to rearrange the furniture in my living room. This was prompted because I had a few boxful of books that were languishing in my closet because I didn’t have anyplace to put them; my bookcases were too full. So I bought a new bookcase. Instead of tearing it out of its box and assembling it right then and there, I let it sit. Because I didn’t like where I had planned to place it once assembled; I wanted to rearrange the furniture.

Instead of getting right on that, like normal people, I let it sit. I waited until the time felt “right”. I had never been that thrilled with the placement of my living room furniture in the first place, so me getting the motivation to move it all around in a more pleasing manner was not really that difficult to want to do. Making myself do it…? Took a little longer.

Eventually I got around to it. And like everything in my life, it was a case of one morning, I woke up, and just… got busy. The easiest part was moving the TV and the computer around. The hardest and most demanding part was pulling off all of my books from the shelves and moving the bookcases around. I have. A lot. Of. Fucking. BOOKS.

The whole process was totally slowed down because I kept stopping to leaf through this book and that book, reading favorite passages, looking for little factoids that had eluded my memory about specific plot points, making mental notes that I want to read this one and that one and this one over here again… yeah. Thank the gods for my youngest daughter, who loves a project and really through herself into this one; she really helped me get them all organized and back on the shelves. And once we did that, we were able to put together the new bookcase and YAY! Now all of my books are up off the floor and my living room is rearranged more to my liking. Now it’s a wide open space and that is what I always wanted.

So…

Yeah.

What do I do NOW?

i applied for a j-o-b

Tired of living paycheck to paycheck, we are. My husband makes a good living but there are a lot of us, and we live in So Cal, which isn’t cheap. We’re a one income family. We do alright, but at the same time, it feels like there’s never enough to cover everything. I’m not complaining; I know that there are a lot of people who are in way worse a position than we are. I’m extremely grateful that The Man has a good job, and that we can cover our bills. I’ve lived on the other side of that, and I’m no stranger to hardship or wanting. This is way better than that.

That being said, I AM tired of living paycheck to paycheck. There’s no such thing as “savings”. If something goes wrong? we’re swinging in the breeze. While we can afford what we have, there isn’t a lot beyond that. So I’ve been thinking about ditching the stay-at-home-mom thing and becoming a working mom. My children are older now, and I don’t feel as bad about leaving them.

The issues of me working are thus; I’m not overly qualified to DO anything. I can work a register, and I’m great with people, but jobs like that mean working less than desirable hours and if I’m going to be doing that? I want to get paid.  Does that make me sound selfish? Do I care? I wanted to go to school and get a degree and do something with it, but that didn’t work out. Ironically I can’t afford school because that guy I married makes too much money. If I were single, I could get all the grant money I needed. However, that isn’t exactly a viable option. Don’t think I don’t see the irony in that.

So what does that leave me? 

The county we live in is accepting applications for 911 radio dispatchers for the Sheriff’s Department. No experience required. The hours are going to be long, I’ll have to do shift work, but instead of just having a job, I’ll have a career. That’s IF they hire me. I just put in the application last week, and the process could take months… if they’re even interested. I’m keeping my fingers crossed!

see, there was this thing… and then this other thing….

Which is why I haven’t been writing. I mean, you know, I’ve had… stuff!

And that? is really just a a big fat excuse. I’ve been busy, yeah, but I could’ve taken a time out of BUSY and done some writing.

First things first… I can’t believe it’s been about two weeks since I last blogged… seems like it was just a week… anyway, the thing is, my youngest daughter fainted on the 30th. We were in the bathroom, and I was fixing her hair, and she started complaining that her stomach hurt and that she needed to sit down. Then she went all pale, said the everything was dark, and that was that- lights out. Luckily I was behind her and was able to get under her and keep her from going down. She was all stiff and her eyes were wide open but she wasn’t SEEING anything. Fixed stare thing happening, and I was feeling something like terror, but it was far removed, like it had nothing to do with me. I had to take care of HER. My fear had to take a back seat to what was happening, so it did.

Like I said, I got under her and carried her across the room (we were in my bathroom) to my bed. A few steps from the bed, she came to; her eyes focused, and she looked around in panic, asking me what happened. I felt relief, but again, it was far removed, like it didn’t have anything to do with me. I wanted her to be okay; she was okay. She was scared and confused, but she was okay.

Fast forward; we went to the doctor (duh) and there she received a clean bill of health. Relief much? After a little delayed freaking out (where no one could see), relieved I was indeed.

Fast forward six days, and it happens again, only this time she’s at school. On the swings, and of course she fell off. It was only after I questioned her that I found out that she couldn’t remember falling, couldn’t remember why she fell, couldn’t remember what she was doing to cause her to fall; everything went black, and the next thing she’s aware of, she’s on the ground, her face is cut, and she’s covered in sand.

This is me, being calm. I have to admit, I was pretty calm. I made her an appointment, got her back into the doctor (her regular pediatrician this time), and now? she’s getting herself a full work up. They’re leaning more towards something neurological, like seizures, rather than something to do with her heart. Both are equally scary to me, but really, I’m pretty calm. I’ll panic if and when I have something to panic about. Until then, there’s no point.

So next week she’s going to go in and get her head checked, and we’ll go from there.

And that is what’s going on with that.