Bliss in Bloom

It's All In How You Look At It

2008-08-26T22:19:00.005-05:00

I've Always Wanted To Be a Calendar Girl

2008-08-25T18:55:00.013-05:00

Could I really be a calendar girl?

Maybe!

I'm still in the running for the Hot Blogger Calendar. And this is the big voting week.

Apparently the HBC peeps suffer guilt trips like I do, so they changed the rules midstream. Now every blogger nominated even once is in the finals. So, I didn't really need all the nominations after all. But still, thank you so much for nominating me. I appreciate all the love and all the comments, and all the good vibes about this. You've given me smiles for life.

If you'd like to see me transformed into a calendar girl, please VOTE NOW!
Only one vote per person, and you'll have to scroll way down to find me.

I've got mega-steep competition too though. Not the least of which being some of my best blog buddies. So, I'll be boohoo-ing and yippee-ing at the same time if one of them wins and *sniff* I don't.

Her Inquiring Mind Wanted To Know

2008-08-24T17:13:00.001-05:00

A long time ago Jenna asked me these questions, I'm finally getting around to answering them. Got questions for me? Let me know, I'll happily answer them... at some point in time.

Just because sometimes throughout the day, I wonder:

M&M's or jellybeans?
- Buttered Popcorn and Strawberry Cheesecake Jelly Bellies.

What color are your eyes?
- Green, conveniently.

Ice cream or cake?
- Ice cream. Ben & Jerry's Half Baked kinda has cake in it.

What flavor ice cream?
- Rocky Road is my all time favie, I also enjoy Buttered Pecan with chocolate syrup.

PC or Mac?
- PC

Favorite flower?
- Peonies and Renunculas

Favorite thing to cook for dinner?
- Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, fried okra, and cornbread... I am a southern girl, lest you forget.

Favorite fast food?
- Meh.

Mexican or Italian?
- Mexican food, Italian men.

If you'd had a girl, what would you have named her?
- Jasper Lily

Shoe size?
- 9

Favorite physical characteristic of yours?
- I like my hair, my eyes, my lips, my legs, and my boobs aren't bad.

If you could, would you take a nap every day?
- Wouldn't you?

Dog or cat? (I know you don't have either, but what kind of person are you?)
- I love cats, they are hilarious.

Favorite candy bar?
- Hmmm, it's been a really long time since I've had one. Maybe the Whatchamacallit.

Favorite colors to wear?
- Green, black, and aqua shades of blue.

Do you like to sing?
- I love to sing and I do it all the time, but you don't want to hear it. My sons even think I shouldn't sing... except bedtime songs.

Can you play any instrument?
- No. I wish I could play the harmonica though.

Do you like Bath and Body Works? What fragrances? Sweet or floral?
- No, I don't. Because all their scents are just too 'chemically' for me. The perfume I love is called Petite Cherie by Annick Goutal, but I don't have any. (note this)

Been outside the country?
- Sadly, no.

If you could go anywhere for a trip, where (outside country)?
- I would go everywhere if I could. First on my list would be Costa Rica, then South Africa, then New Zealand, then I'd have to get drunk in my homeland (Ireland).

It's Friday, and I've Got Great News!

2008-08-22T05:09:00.006-05:00

For every person who has been concerned about how things were going, and encouraged me, and prayed for me, this is for you. For the good folks who wonder how I am coping, this one is especially for you.

On Tuesday at 4:30 pm, I walked into a law firm in downtown OKC to give them my resume (just as I had to maybe a hundred other businesses in the last two months). It was 5:05 pm when I got back home and heard a message on my machine from that firm, asking me to call back. I called Wednesday morning, they scheduled an interview for 2:00 pm that day. While sitting in that interview, they scheduled the second interview for Thursday at 9:00 am. The second interview lasted maybe 15 minutes. I came home, two hours later they called me and offered me the job. Not only did I get the job, I also got the salary I asked for.

It's now 5:40 am on Friday, and I'm getting ready for the first day on my new job.

I didn't sleep a wink last night. I couldn't, I just laid in bed thanking God because it was all I could do. He did it again! He came through, just in time. I'm so humbled by his goodness, and I'm in awe of the way he has kept me in peace throughout these two months of being unemployed. He met every need that I had.

What's even more incredible is that I will have six days worth of pay by the first of September. And that is exactly enough to pay my rent! They could have waited to have me start on Monday, but they didn't. They wanted me to start today, a Friday. That is God meeting needs, no doubt about it.

So, I'm ending this post now so I can get me and my boys ready. I have to be there at 7:45, and I'm not nervous at all. I'm a little sleepy, but I'm really excited.

The Lord is the everlasting God,
The creator of all the Earth,
He never grows weak or weary,
No one can measure the depths of His understanding,
He gives power to the weak, and strength to the powerless,
Even youth will become weak and tired,
And young men will fall in exhaustion,
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength,
They will soar high on wings like eagles,
They will run and not grow weary,
They will walk and not faint,
Isaiah 40:28-31

Seemingly Unspectacular Quirks

2008-08-19T11:45:00.007-05:00

If you can believe this, I was just thinking the other day that it's been a really long time since I've been tagged for a meme. For a while there me and most of the bloggers I know were getting tagged right and left, and it was exhausting. My last meme was in January and I didn't exactly mince words about being annoyed by it, in fact I launched a revolt.

However, when my wonderful friend Jennifer at Just Jiff tagged me recently, I was surprisingly happy about it. A meme is the perfect thing to lift the heavy vibe that's been happening around here, and that's very welcomed right now. So, onward now to the Six Unspectacular Quirks Meme.

Six Unspectacular Quirks (says who?)

1. I'm convinced that I hear music differently than everyone else. I hear every part, every beat, every instrument, every word. I hear them individually, and then I hear them together, and I do this unconsciously most of the time. There are songs that I will listen to over and over and over, and never get tired of because the energy, and magic, and emotion I feel in them never stops amazing me. Sometimes I ask people 'do you hear that?', and most of the time they don't. I feel sadness for them.

A few of these songs are:

- Incinerate / Sonic Youth
- Natural Beauty / Neil Young
- Mr. Tambourine Man / Bob Dylan
- There Goes My Baby / The Drifters
- May This Be Love / Jimi Hendrix
- Soul Meets Body / Death Cab for Cutie
- Toes Across The Floor or Walk / Blind Melon
- Gypsy / Fleetwood Mac

2. I sleep on my stomach because I don't like the weight of blankets on my toes.

3. I find an odd sense of accomplishment in popping blackheads... on other people. I don't do it often, possibly because I don't have a boyfriend who's back I can tackle. But, the next lucky stud who lands me is in for a real treat, because I'm very gifted.

4. I really only like to do things I don't have to do. I might be jazzed about doing something, but as soon as I feel obligated then I don't want to do it.

5. I have an unbeatable memory, for pretty much everything. Except for the things like math facts, which bore me.

6. I take pictures of what I'm watching on TV.

And now, the piesta de resistance, I get to tag six poor souls and fill them with guilt if they don't do this meme. I hereby tag:

* Deb of Missives From Suburbia - because she thinks I looked hot in mom jeans.

* Jenny of Mommin' It Up! - because cleanliness is next to Godliness, and she made sure I would be clean (and shaved) by sending me a huge box full of personal hygiene products she magically happened upon.

* Carie of Our Crooked Tree - because neurotic as she may be, her quirks are nothing short of spectacular, and I love her.

* Ed aka Zoe's Dad - because he's groovy and I dig it.

* James of Daddy Shack - because if he's not quirky then no one is.

* PG of Annoyingly Boring? - one word; payback.

Get Along Little Doggies

2008-08-17T13:20:00.007-05:00

My mom took us to the Cowboy Hall of Fame yesterday... er, um, I mean the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. My entire life the place was called one thing, then they changed it. Sure, the new title more accurately defines the place, but this doggie can't be taught new tricks very easily. It's called the Cowboy Hall of Fame, and that's that.

We had a wonderful time. If you find yourself in OKC, this place is a must on your to-do list. Here's why...

This is the Trail of Tears statue that stands at the entrance, and it's breathtaking. If you aren't up on your American history, and don't know what the Trail of Tears is, read about it. This statue is so massive that you can lose your kids on front of it.

There is so much to see, and so much to do, but very little of it can be photographed. Museums are kinda rigid like that. I'm an outlaw though.

There's a whole separate building for kids, and my boys enjoyed the saddles. Jackson is sitting on the tiniest saddle I've ever seen. Since there wasn't a sign to explain, I speculated that this saddle was like an old school car seat. 'This is how the pioneers hauled their babies around,' I told them.

This killed me, my heart stopped and broke simultaneously. Clearly, I'm never going to be able to get away from the Teton's, even in Oklahoma.

If you don't know who Dale Evans, Roy Rogers, and Gene Autry are then I can't help you. I do wish I had that guitar though.

The highlight of the day for me was seeing the Prix de West show. The Prix de West is the most prestigious invitational art exhibit there is for western artists, but for me it was yet another trip down memory lane.

When I lived in Jackson Hole I was privileged to work for Trailside Galleries. This gallery hosts many shows for several artists showing in Prix de West. While I can't say that I know these artists, I can say that I have met them, and seeing their stunning works again just thrilled me to pieces.

I wasn't supposed to take this picture, which is why it's blurry, but I had to have proof for my blog fodder.

Don't try explaining 'blog fodder' to an elderly museum security guard though, it doesn't translate.

Cast Your Dancing Spell My Way

2008-08-14T23:08:00.005-05:00

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow

Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

Mole Woe

2008-08-12T20:44:00.006-05:00

I almost always crop it out of pictures these days, because to me it's like a BIG BRIGHT FLASHING STROBE LIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FOREHEAD. And I don't care for it at all.

See my mole, see what I mean? It's there, on my face, and it's round and big, and ugly. And I hate it.

I was born with this mole. It was cute and little and never bothered me until it started growing.

My mom always hated it though, and she talked me into getting it removed when I was 19. I went to see a dermatologist, and he REFUSED to remove it. He scolded me almost, he said it was a beauty mark. Then he pulled out a huge medical book and showed me god-awful pictures of keloid scars, and told me that he was sure the scar would be worse than the mole.

Mom was irritated, but appeased. This was good enough for me.

In the last few years though, my mole has been growing. It's so big now that it's all I see when I see pictures of me. So a few months ago I tried to get it removed again.

The dermatologist said the scar would be worse than the mole, and I told her I didn't care. She couldn't remove it though, because it's on my face, so she sent me to a plastic surgeon. I was feeling hope.

The plastic surgeon said he would remove it, but insurance wouldn't cover one cent of the procedure because it's not suspicious. I almost begged. 'But, it's growing' I said. He said he understood, but it was a definite no go. I cried, and he seemed compassionate. He also gave me an estimate of what it would cost to have it removed... I cried even more.

I looked at this millionaire surgeon, with big tears in my eyes, and wondered if he would remove it for free if I was a crying child in a third world country. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't.

So, if you meet me someday and see a golf ball sized mole don't be alarmed. Please don't stare. It could be worse. Like, if it had long hairs growing out of it or something.

For now though, those hairs are just growing on my chin. But, don't get me started on chin hairs, that's a whole other can of worms.

365 of love

Literary Temp Time

2008-08-11T20:02:00.005-05:00

Last Friday I got a call from one of the temp agencies, they asked if I could work today, and of course I said yes. The lady told me it was just a one day (for now) receptionist gig, she gave me the details, I thanked her and hung up the phone. She called back a few minutes later with one final instruction:

'Bring a book' she said.

'Bring a book?' I asked. 'Yes,' she said, 'you will be bored if you don't.'

I told her that I would, but I was a little suspicious. In my brief temping tenure I have learned one thing, and that is that I am being watched. If they don't like me on my one day gig, then they won't ask me back. This temp work stuff is kinda hardcore like that.

My paranoid mind raced for reasoning, it couldn't possibly be so simple. I convinced myself that I would be judged based on the book I brought... you know, because pipe fitters and forklift drivers are such literary snobs and all.

The weekend flew by, and 6am this morning showed up before I knew it. The mad dash to get out the door on time was in full swing, but I had a feeling I was forgetting something. I got my boys in the car, and one block from home before I realized I forgot to grab a book. I had to turn around, I had to bring a book!

I've lived in this apartment for 1.5 years, but suddenly I was lost. I couldn't find a grown up book to save my life. What happened to all of my books?

Evidently all my books are still packed from my last move. This embarrassing admission can obviously be blamed on blogging... but it's pathetic nonetheless.

All I could do was reach in and grab the first book I found. The clock was ticking and I had to get on the road. Those forklifters would just have to deal.

Fortunately I didn't grab anything controversial, like The Joy of Sex, or something. I stuck my hand in a box, and pulled out A Walk in the Woods.

Since I can't be in the mountains right now, reading about a hike was a fantastic treat. Even though I was stuck in a warehouse, and the phone only rang four times, I had a great day.

I don't think anyone paid attention to my book but me, but pay attention I did.

ps. I can't believe I outed my closet.

365 of love

Rivers of Living Water

2008-08-10T11:56:00.009-05:00

I'm sitting on the brink of a lot of good news, and it's getting exciting. I've been here before, but this time I'm going to document it.

I'm in that spot now, that spot where I've done all I can, I've reached the end of my means, and I'm totally dependant on God. This is exciting because I know that God is going to provide. I don't know how he's going to do it, but I know he will because he always has.

I can look at 2004 as a prime example of this, if nothing else. When my husband left me I had nothing. I hadn't worked in six years. I had no job, no money, no car, no furniture, and no place to live. I did have an infant and a four year old though, and I was terrified. Gradually, miraculously, and never a minute too late, God met every need I had. I look back now and see all the blessings, and it's a kind of sweetness that is so palpable it still brings me to tears. This trial I'm in is nothing compared to that, but I know he'll do it again. It's such a precious thing to know beyond a shadow of doubt that I can trust the Lord to take care of me.

He works in amazing and subtle ways. He works through people. I feel like it's important for me to note these blessings this time, and I'm going to do it here. If for no other purpose than my own record keeping, but I have a feeling that more good will come out of this than just me finding a job. And that's exciting to me too.

I know that I have readers who don't share my beliefs, and that's okay. I'm not interested in strong arming my faith onto anyone. I'm just going to tell my story, that's all.

I have always been reluctant to really share my faith, because I know that I'm obviously flawed. The biggest turnoff about Christians to the world is hypocrisy, and I understand that. I'm not perfect and never will be. I'm not the epitome of a 'good Christian girl' either... I'm just me. I'm okay with that because I understand that Gods love for me is not based on my actions, or behavior. He loves me because I'm his little girl, and he will take care of me because I love him. It's as simple as that.

This post is a preface to what the next weeks of posting will detail. The praise reports are coming kids, hold on tight because it's going to be a thrill ride.

Surviving the Heat, Okie Style.

2008-08-09T12:42:00.010-05:00

Funny, but being back in that river bottom made me remember that Oklahoma isn't so bad after all.

Freak Out Faith

2008-08-08T10:42:00.005-05:00

It's 10:45 on this Friday morning in Oklahoma. I sit here with my third cup of coffee, listening to Bob Dylan, and thinking that I shouldn't be yawning so much.

Yesterday I applied for four jobs. One was for general office help, and there is no doubt in my mind that I can do that job. I think they should be excited to have someone work there who has as much experience as I do. So, if I hear 'overqualified' again, I think I might burst into hysteria.

This is what my days are like right now. I peruse want ads, write cover letters, attach my resume and letters of recommendation, and press send. Then I wait. Then I call the places I already applied, and wait.

I've signed up at three employment agencies. Which means that I've taken three typing tests, and also three versions of the same Microsoft applications aptitude tests. I scored 'Excellent' on all of them at the first place, and typed 48 wpm. Same with the second, but typed 56 wpm. Then at the third I typed 60 wpm, scored above average on Word, and below average on Excel. Go figure.

I had a great job interview earlier this week, but still haven't heard anything. They said it might be two weeks.

All my bills are due again, and I'm trying hard not to freak out. The cut off notice for my cable/internet came. I know this sounds petty, all things considered, but I think that if I didn't have internet I might lose my mind. If my cable gets cut off then my boys won't be able to watch TV, which means that they will lodge themselves permanently up my butt out of boredom. It would be a different story, perhaps, if we had a yard, but we don't.

Yes, I know that internet and cable are luxuries and I shouldn't complain. I'm not complaining though, I'm just saying. If it gets cut off then it will be months before I can get it back on, and that's the real bummer. I'll have to pay the past due balance, plus a reconnection fee, plus one months service, plus another deposit... added up it's around $500. Can you say 'insane'?

I don't have any credit cards, and I've always considered that wisdom on my part. But right now I wish I could pull money out of plastic.

Jackson starts 4th grade in a few weeks. I can't believe it. Noah will be going to Pre-K, and I can't believe that either. I wish I could buy them new clothes and shoes, but they don't really need them yet so that's good. Surely by the time it gets cold I'll be able to buy them jeans.

I still know that everything is going to be okay though. At this point I'm pretty much depending on the grace of God, and when it comes right down to it, that's not so bad. All of us are dependant on God, whether we realize it or not. I'm just much more obviously dependant, and more obviously in need of help.

If one thing is for sure about my life, it's that God is going to get the glory. Maybe he keeps me so obviously dependant on him so I can talk about it, and be an example of his goodness to others? I don't know.

But, I do know that I have been in worse spots and I've never been forsaken. I have confidence that I won't be now. The Lord works in mysterious ways, and it's not for me to understand it all.

My job is to trust and believe.

Jackson, age 4

Waxing a Nostalgic Mile

2008-08-06T17:05:00.001-05:00

This post can be blamed on having too much time on my hands, and discovering boxes of photos that I haven't seen in years. Bear with me, if you can, as I journey down a path of awkward adolescence, big hair, braces, proms, and ignorant bliss.

Little bohemian Piper, age 6. My Mom permed my hair, and then brushed it out because it didn't work.

I was desperate for a Cabbage Patch Kid. I eventually had three, but this one was my favorite because it was a preemie.

I asked for gymnastic lessons. Mom signed me up for Tae Kwon Do.

Ah, family Halloween parties. My Mom is on the left, and I'm the Air Force girl with a black eye. To this day, last minute homemade costumes are still the best.

8th grade. Oh those horrible permed, frozen stiff bangs. It pains me to see this, remembering that I passed this picture out to boys... because I thought my bangs were awesome.

At 16, the bigger the hair the better. I worshiped industrial size cans of Rave hair spray. That thing in my hair is a belt, why you ask? I don't know. I also made collages out of pictures from magazines, and hung Gap bags on my wall.

For my birthday I got a 1988 Dodge Daytona, and apparently cut-off jean shorts with Cole Haans and socks was a cool look back then.

These next two shots are of me and Marisa. Her Mom would take pictures of us reenacting pictures we saw in our Seventeen Magazines.

I remember wanting to have a great looking butt, like Marisa. However, sticking my butt out also stuck my tummy out, and I was mortified because I looked so 'fat.'

Junior Prom. Me and Kerali. Yes, I really did wear a gold sequenced spaghetti strap dress. Yes, I really did ask for a beehive hairdo... to compliment my big dangly earrings in a mod sort of way.

I went to Marisa's schools Christmas dance. I borrowed that dress from a Miss Oklahoma pageant contestant, and was darn proud of it. So much so that I put a big black poofy thing on top of my head.

Age 17, Christmas dance photo. I didn't think I would ever get my braces off, and I didn't really care. I wore them for five years, from age 14 to 19, because I refused to wear my headgear.

Halloween in high school.

This is the girl I wasn't allowed to hang out with, because she was a senior and I was a sophomore. I hung out with her all the time, and she took me to my first party.

Senior trip to the zoo. Those were the popular girls at my school, who I was friends with but would not hang out with outside of school.

My Senior Prom, 1994. My best girlfriends were Melissa and Kerali.

Melissa, Kerali, and me in Senior English class.

My Senior picture.

Graduation! I made a smiley face out of masking tape for my hat, so my family could find me.

After high school I moved in with my friend Jessica. Her dad was the rugby coach, and we went to a lot of parties at the field house. This was Halloween 1994. My hair wasn't so bad anymore, but the fact that I'm drinking Strohs probably negates that.

Looking back now, I realize that drunk guys in their late 20's are not good influences on 18 year old girls.

This is me on a motorcycle at Reggae Fest.

From all of that, I went to this...

I moved to Wyoming, and was happier than I had ever been in my life. I was still so young and naive.

My family didn't like that I stayed away so long, and they were also concerned because I hadn't gotten married yet... like most of my friends. I was feeling heavy pressure to 'straighten up' and 'settle down.' I knew I wasn't ready to get married, or settle down.

But at that same time, I met Mike. He was exactly what my family wanted for me, and I knew they would be happy. I was actually crazy about him too. I must have been, because I left Wyoming for him, and married him four months after we met.

Had I known what the next years would bring, I would not have married him.

But, then I wouldn't have had these precious babies...

Baby Jackson

Baby Noah

Of course there's more to the story, there always is.

Stumbling upon all these old pictures has made the last week very sweet, and cathartic in many ways. I don't think I hold on to the past, though some might disagree considering how much I talk about it. I think revisiting memories is good for my soul.

365 of love, With a Side of Personality

2008-08-03T15:45:00.010-05:00

(first, thank you all, for everything. for the thoughts, words, prayers, and love. thank you. it means the world to me.)

One really fantastic thing that's happening right now is my Project 365.

Basically, I take random pictures and show them to you everyday.

I post my shots on 365 of love.

You might like seeing what I see.

Come see!

Bryan, PG, QJ, and Mishi, are my 365ing friends. I know you will love them, if you're not already.

***

Oh, I also took a fun personality test that I found on my friend Emery's blog.

It's shockingly accurate. So, I had to show it to you.

You Are An ENFP (whatever that means)

The Inspirer

You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends.

You are also unconventional, irreverent, and unimpressed by authority and rules.

Incredibly perceptive, you can usually sense if someone has hidden motives.

You use lots of colorful language and expressions. You're quite the storyteller!

In love, you are quite the charmer. And you are definitely willing to risk your heart.

You often don't follow through with your flirting or professed feelings. And you do break a lot of hearts.

At work, you are driven but not a workaholic. You just always seem to enjoy what you do.

You would make an excellent entrepreneur, politician, or journalist.

How you see yourself: compassionate, unselfish, and understanding

When other people don't get you, they see you as: gushy, emotional, and unfocused

***

You wanna do one too?

What's Your Personality Type?

I Know He Watches Me

2008-08-01T12:27:00.003-05:00

Why should I feel discouraged, why should the shadows come,
Why should my heart be lonely, and long for heaven and home,
When Jesus is my portion? My constant friend is He:
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

"Let not your heart be troubled," His tender word I hear,
And resting on His goodness, I lose my doubts and fears;
Though by the path He leadeth, but one step I may see;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me;
His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.

I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.

How It's Going

2008-07-31T14:14:00.007-05:00

I appreciate that people are concerned about me. Everyone wants to know how I'm doing. Everyone is asking if I've found a job yet. People want to know where I've applied, and what my plans are, and what I'm going to do next. People want to know how I'm going to buy groceries, and how my rent is going to get paid.

I know that people ask because they care. But, I don't have the energy to keep answering the same questions over and over. It's been six weeks now, and honestly, finding the energy to keep going forward with a positive attitude is taking all my strength.

I hate being pitied. I hate my situation. I hate how pathetic I feel. I hate being needy, and I hate needing charity. I feel embarrassed, and ashamed, and scared.

I don't have the desire to write, or blog, or socialize right now. I don't have anything interesting or light hearted to talk about. I don't want to be a bummer. My life is kind of a bummer right now, and I don't want to think about it, much less talk about it.

These are the most common questions I'm asked, along with their honest answers, so you won't have to wonder, or ask.

Do you have anyone who can help you financially? No, I do not.

How many jobs have you applied for? I lost count.

How are you going to pay your bills? By the grace of God.

How are you going to pay August rent? My church graciously paid it for me (thank you God!)

Do you have a savings account, do you have any money? Not anymore.

How are you buying groceries? I swallowed my pride and applied for food stamps. Food stamps won't buy toilet paper, or school supplies though.

What kind of work are you looking for? Anything at this point. Though I would still like to do something that I can enjoy and take pride in. Something that I won't hate doing everyday.

The cold hard truth is that I don't have an impressive resume, because I was downsized out of my last two jobs. I was only at my last job for four months. I didn't work during the six years I was married, and do not have a bachelors degree. In the four years that I've been a single Mom, I've had six jobs. I was fired from two of the first three due to attendance issues. Companies don't care that I have two little boys who require me when they are sick. Noah had RSV once, and double ear infections three times in the same year. Jackson has had ear infections, and the flu. I do not regret taking care of my babies when they need me, but when they need me within the first six months on a new job, H.R. people don't care.

I have landed good jobs, jobs that make me realize I'm smart and talented. But, I haven't been able to keep them, and it's wreaking havoc on my self confidence.

This is kind of off topic, but I envy people who have spouses who love them, and help them. I envy people who have parents who help them. I envy people who just know that they are loved unconditionally. People who have those things don't seem to recognize it, I guess it's because they don't know what it's like not to have it, and that makes me angry.

Even in spite of all this, my life is still good. I'm blessed. I'm happy, even though it's not the sublime and enchanting kind of happy right now. I know that everything is going to be okay. I don't know how, but I know it will be.

I hope you will take the time to be grateful for what you have. It could always be worse.

I know that you are going to leave wonderful and encouraging comments, and I'm already thankful for them. Embarrassed, but thankful.

If I suddenly go silent, it's because my Internet has been shut off. Don't worry though, I'll be back as soon as I can.

A Little Doodling Will Do Ya

2008-07-27T15:25:00.006-05:00

While Noah napped, Jackson and I doodled.

This is our first non-crayon collaborative doodle...

... this is my name.

We are doodle gene carriers.

Pseudo SAHM

2008-07-26T11:31:00.006-05:00

Aside from being unemployed, and not knowing how I'm going to pay my rent, this past week has been absolutely wonderful. I'm pretty sure that there is a blessing in all of this, and having time to spend with my sons is it.

The best thing about my life is that I am a Mommy. Jackson and Noah are the reason I'm alive, they are my purpose for being. The worst thing about being a single Mom is that I'm not able to give them more of me. When I'm working I don't have time to play as much, there's a schedule and a pace to keep. I'm usually tired in the evenings, and my boys who have been in school and daycare all day are usually cranky. It's hard to make things different when the only way to keep things afloat is just to keep going.

This week has been a total reversal of all that though. I have just been Mommy, and the difference in my home and in the attitudes of my boys is obvious.

It occurred to me that it's not just me that my boys don't get to spend time with, but they also don't spend much time with each other. They are four years apart, so they aren't even in the same summer programs at daycare. When we get home in the evenings, those few hours are all the time we get together. This realization has shaken me to my core. Is it possible that we are a little family of strangers?

I have to go back to work, and I'm praying it's soon, but I'm still going to be sad when it happens. Just this one week of us three being together has made a major difference. There's a contentment that we haven't had in a long time. There's a calm. A precious calm, and I don't want it to go away.

So, rather than focusing on the sadness of all this, I'm going to call it a blessing. I'm thanking God for giving us this time together.

These sweet faces are the better than any mountain, any job, or any man.

I'm not going to write anymore of these gut wrenching posts for a while. I think I'm giving off depressing vibes, and I don't mean to. Hopefully I'll start a new job next week while my boys are at their Dads house, and I will be too busy to miss them too much.

The Sound of Settling

2008-07-22T12:56:00.007-05:00

I'm in the process of accepting the fact that I am staying in Oklahoma. This is a heartbreak that most people in my life don't appreciate or understand at all. I can't make them, and they don't have to. But, all the same, the sadness I am experiencing is unmatchable, and I just have to accept it.

I haven't been allowing myself to think about it actually. Sometimes when you feel something solo the fact that there's a void of validation is helpful. Helpful only in that no one is bringing it up, so you don't have to think about it unless you want to. And I for sure haven't wanted to.

I moved back to Oklahoma from Jackson Hole, Wyoming almost two years ago. I haven't been happy about it, not even once. Whether it be the Teton's or the Rockies, there is no place on earth that feeds my spirit the way living in the mountains does. I don't know why.

Everyone in my family thinks I have an escapism mentality. They think I want to run away from my life and my responsibilities, and that my desire to be in the mountains is just an excuse to do that. My friends don't really get it either. I don't try to explain it anymore, and for the most part I don't talk about it anywhere but here. Nonetheless though, the enormity of this compulsion never goes away. There isn't one day that passes that I don't think about it. In fact, just writing about it now is causing my eyes to well up. The desire is constant, and I can't make it go away.

Marisa called me on Sunday, she asked me if I had watched Into The Wild (watch the video). I hadn't heard of it, but she told me I needed to watch it ASAP. She told me that she had chills while she watched it, and that she thought of me the whole time. I ordered it OnDemand, and watched it as soon as we hung up.

I have never, ever, ever seen a movie that so paralleled my spirit before. This guy, Alexander Supertramp, had the same thing in him that I have in me. I'm not alone. He might have been escaping, but that wasn't his goal. He was living. He LIVED his life. Regardless of the fact that he died, he lived doing it.

It was validating to watch that movie, but also to see that my best friend finally understood me.

But here I am, in 'keep up with Jones'' land. Here I am, and I don't want any of it. I don't want the half million dollar homes that most of my friends are buying right now. I don't want a fancy corporate job again. I don't care if I drive a beater. I'm here though, and I have to suck it up. These are the best things that life here seems to offer, and they are just things.

Bigger, more, better, more expensive, those are what people are spending their whole lives trying to attain. I don't want that life. But, to make the most out of being here then I will have to. Otherwise I can just stay in this apartment, and feel the fact that no one relates to simplicity the rest of my life. My boys need the best I can give them here.

I want to work for the lodge, and live in a tiny two bedroom employee housing cabin. I want my boys to go to the school that only has 40 other kids, but teaches them to climb and ski. I want to make a meager income and live simply, perched on a mountainside. When I step outside each day the crisp mountain air will kiss my face... and that is enough.

I want to raise my sons there, and I was doing it, I was there... but I had to move back to Oklahoma. (I'm crying right now, can you tell?)

It looks like I'll be staying in Oklahoma for at least a few more years. I'm forcing down the bitter pill. I'm trying to find reasons to be happy about it. I'm trying to embrace all the good that is here. I'm about to apply for city and government jobs for the amazing benefits, and the near impossibility of ever being downsized.

I'm going to conform. I'm becoming an Okie again. I have to let it happen, I have to embrace it or be miserable. I've been miserable long enough. I'm going to find happiness here, somehow.

"For by and by the mist shall lift, and plain it all He'll make. Through all the way, though dark to me, He made not one mistake."

Happy Camper Comes Home

2008-07-20T11:30:00.010-05:00

My son came home from church camp Friday. When he got off the bus he was smiling. Honestly, I've never seen him so happy and content. He had an amazing time, and he was full of stories. I was probably more excited to hear them than he was to tell them though.

Jackson was at the same camp I grew up going to. I had some of the best times of my life there. I was seven the first time, and went back every summer until I graduated from high school.

I couldn't wait to trade memories with him. So I took him for snow cones, and made him to spill the beans.

He said they didn't do Mud Mountain this year, but he got to wrestle pigs instead. There wasn't any pig wrestling when I was there. He said he chased the pig and it was really big, and he grabbed it's back legs and the pig squealed really loud. He thought it was hilarious.

He said that Push Ball was the funnest game, and I told him I agreed. He liked horseback riding, and played a lot of tether ball.

I asked him about walking up Glory Road. (Glory Road is a trail that leads to the top of the Arbuckle Mtns, there are three lighted crosses on top. Service is held there one night, and traditionally boys ask girls to walk up Glory Road with them. It's kind of a big deal.) I asked him if he asked a girl to go up with him. Evidently he only did it because he was triple-dog-dared to, so he had no choice. He said he asked her, and she said 'no' and walked away, and he glad he didn't have to walk with a stupid girl anyway.

I was trying to pull as many details as I could out of him, and he obliged. But, just when I thought he was done, he opened up and gave me the best camp story I've ever heard.

There were 14 little boys in his room, and they had two adult counselors. One night, after lights out, Craig and Steve announced their mission. O.F.H. aka Operation Frog Hunt was about to begin. They snuck down to the creek with buckets and collected as many frogs as they could find. One of the counselors had a master key, so while the rest of the camp slept, my son and his friends deposited frogs in all the other boy cabins. Mayhem ensued, and it was hilarious... until the Deans came.

For punishment the boys, and their two fine counselors, had to 'march 'til dawn.' He said they marched in a line around the campgrounds 24 times, and it was the best time he's had in his life. At around 4 am they stopped marching and went swimming in the creek. This was actually the best time he ever had in his life, he clarified. They had breakfast K.P. duty at 6 am. Jackson said he almost fell asleep while working the slop bucket. I told him that I always did the serving line at K.P., but he told me the slop bucket was way cooler than that.

He said he was still hearing the songs from service in his head. He sang them to me, and did the motions. He loved the speaker, and said that learning more about the Bible was really cool. He read the entire 91st Psalm all by himself, over and over. He said he is trying to memorize it.

My old-school-camper-Mommy-heart was so swollen with gratitude. Going to this camp is a legacy in my family. My Mom even went to that camp when she was little. I know first hand the kind of impact camp can have on a little life. And being able to watch my son experience it might be the sweetest blessing ever.

Jackson was so happy that he willingly kissed me. This alone was worth the price of camp, if nothing else.

When we got home I unzipped his bag to find lots of dirt, soaking wet clothes, and perfectly folded underwear and socks.

Noah will be going to camp when he turns seven too. I must instill better hygiene habits in my sons before then. I have a new mission.

It's My Quirkee Time of the Month

2008-07-17T07:10:00.000-05:00

As you may or may not recall, in addition to being a blogger, I'm also a columnist at Quirkee.com.

It's a weekly column called From the Mouths of Babes, and there are three other babes who also write for it. Lotus aka Sarcastic Mom, Kadi Prescott, and dkaye are my esteemed cohorts. I'm super honored to be in such fine company. We take turns (because they make us) and it's my turn again this week.

Please go read my article I'll Show You Nuts, and leave comments that make me want to send you virtual hugs and kisses all night long.

My Kid Left For Camp Today, and All I Got Was a Panic Attack

2008-07-14T21:40:00.006-05:00

A) He's too little to get on that big bus without me, period.

B) You might see enthusiasm here, I see all kinds of child labor laws being violated.

C) Look! They've got him under the bus!!

D) See!! He's terrified! (call it dodging the goodbye kiss from Mom if you must, but it's straight trepidation, no matter how you look at it.)

E) Look at these helpless children! They're being led off to frolic on hillsides, slide down 'mud mountain', hike, and play games in creeks. Off to sleep in bunk bed filled cabins. Off to try to win Super Group through horrific rituals like K.P. and B.P. and winning flag football games. They are frightened, my son is begging me not to make him go... look!

Beginning a New Lifetime

2008-07-13T15:18:00.002-05:00

A friend of mine was telling me about his grandmother recently, about how she was married to his grandfather for twenty-something years. That grandfather passed away when my friend was seven years old. His grandmother remarried, and now, thirty-something years later, she has been married to his step-grandfather longer than she was married to his biological grandfather.

I said to my friend, without thinking it out first, that it's amazing how we get so many lifetimes in our one lifetime. Ever since I said those words they have been replaying in my mind, like a loop. A 'this is a significant moment of awareness' loop, and I know I have to pay attention to the subliminal messages locked inside that single statement. This is a turning point in my own life, and I know it.

When his grandmother was married the first time, I bet she never once considered that she would be married to someone else one day. I bet she never considered that in her second marriage she would have a longer lifetime that she did in her first.

I'm sure that she was devastated when her husband passed away. It was probably very hard for her to move beyond that grief too. Being a woman and a mother, I can almost feel that sense of loss. After she remarried, I imagine that she still had moments of grieving for the loss of her old life. But, she lived, she survived it. Now, in her latter years, I'm sure there is an incredible sense of gratitude. Gratitude for all the lifetimes she has had, and the magical intertwining of occurrences that define her existence. A full life, lived.

I see now that my own life will hold it's own lifetimes, and it already has. And, it's okay. It's okay to move out of one, and into another. It's okay to feel loss about it, it's okay to grieve a past lifetime. It's okay to not see the meaning, or understand. It's okay to not know why. It's okay to look beyond right now, and it's okay to anticipate a great new life.

I'm not who I once was. I'm not who I will be either. I'm me though, I'm me living my current lifetime. The me that I will be when I'm 85 will be the me that was created over the course of my all lifetimes.

What I have seen as the end is really just the start of a new beginning. Oh how exciting it is to finally see this. To finally realize that there will be another lifetime after this. I don't know what it is, but I'm there. I'm standing at the threshold, and I've been prepared. I'm ready now, and I know it.

The Task at Hand

2008-07-10T10:54:00.008-05:00

It's been more than a month since I deep cleaned my apartment, and it's not pretty. I've got a big weekend ahead, and I will have a guest, so I pretty much have to clean like a mad woman today.

I waited until the very last moment to get it done, of course. That's what I do. I procrastinate.

There's always time to clean, right? I can always do it later, you know, after I get my daily dose of hours wasted online and whatnot. I have my priorities in order people.

I have to fold six loads of laundry, because the customary love seat laundry rotation has actually become an eyesore.

I need to mop the bathrooms and kitchen. I have to swiffer my shelves and pictures, and eradicate numerous dust bunnies from the dark corners of my abode. Someone fetch me my allergy pills.

I must wash sheets. I also have to make my sons beds; which incidentally haven't been made since the last time they slept in them... more than a week ago. I should have had my boys clean their own rooms too!

I'm determined to hang up all the clothes that are laying in a pile on my bedroom floor this time. I won't throw them on my closet floor and shut the door, I pinky swear. I have to pinky swear, because my other fingers are crossed.

Let's face it, I'm lazy and hate dealing with clothes. Sure, I love to buy them and wear them. I even enjoy washing them, in fact I look forward to bleaching my whites. I love stain removers. I'm ever so choosy about my soaps, and the dryer always gets three sheets of Bounce. It's the folding, and hanging, and putting away that I struggle with. And by 'struggle with' I mean refuse to do. Yes, I know I'm a 32 year old woman, and yes I know it's pathetic. I even know that my mother is ashamed, yet I still struggle with the latter part of laundry.

Panic and running short on time makes for adequate motivation though, and an even greater sense of accomplishment once it's done. I have that to look forward to, if nothing else.

James River Float Trip in Pictures

2008-07-08T10:36:00.013-05:00

Hootontown look out! Becky, Piper, and Jeena

Hot guys in the back of a truck, hot dog! The Fireman, Uli, Brad, and Michael.

Rental Shack

Jeena

Piper, Uli, the Fireman, Brad, Jeena, Carie, Becky, and Michael. The river doesn't know what it's in for.

Brad and Becky

Me and the Fireman

The James is a beautiful river.

Lunch break - Becky, Michael, and Brad

Becky

Uli, Carie, Piper, and the Fireman

The Fireman made for excellent eye candy.

Rare form moments, caught on camera. Not the most flattering shots in the world, but this is what fun times on a river look like... and it's all good.

One of the many times Carie fell down in the water, it was hilarious though, obviously.

Uli and Brad

Uli

Carie

I don't really recall, but I think I was being towed...

... and talking the Fireman into giving me a smoke.

***

After our 11 mile float, we went back to Brad and Carie's house. I ~~passed out~~ took a nice long nap. Then we had a wonderful dinner and worked on recapping the days events. I am kicking myself for not taking any photos with my own camera, thankfully Carie shared hers with me.

I must say that Brad and Carie are the most welcoming and warm hosts ever. They have such a beautiful home, and their sons are too precious. Their friends are terrific people, and I was privileged to be invited into their circle. I hope to visit them again soon, as I'm sure that I have made friends for life.

The only casualty of this float trip was my shorts, and that's not too bad. Perhaps on our next float down the James I'll find them stuck under this tree...