A Sad Rant

Today I discovered that I've been repressing a lot of feelings. My inner-psychologist made me find answers and after I spoke to my spousal-psychologist (Josh, of course) it all came crashing down. Here's how it started:

At 9:45 this morning I got a call from Josh saying that the airline wasn't going to let him board the plane. This is the plane he was to take to come see me and the kids after six weeks of him being gone. Evidently, he needed to be there 30 minutes before take off and he arrived 21 minutes before. The final passenger count occurs 15 minutes before take off, but a cut off is a cut off and there was no leniency, no empathy, nothing for Josh to do but leave the airport. I just don't get it. I understand that there are time constraints and limits, but when you're at a small town airport, you'd think they'd give a little leeway to those who will not delay the flight. The three minutes it would've taken him to pass through security and walk around the corner to the tarmac and board the plane wouldn't have killed anyone. There was something somebody could've done, but they didn't care enough to do it. Josh drove directly from work to the airport. He couldn't have made it any earlier.

From this experience alone, I'm sad. I miss my husband. I want to see him. I expected him to hold me in his strong, loving arms and help me get past all the other stresses in our lives. And it just leaves me so upset that the world is what it is. Maybe I've been sheltered by the good people of Montana for too long, but it seems to me that people should mean more than time or money. Shouldn't we be seeking out ways to love and help others around us? If we put constraints on what we are willing to do for others, then how are we supposed to grow as human beings? We become complacent, detached and desensitized. We are no better than the computers we're sitting at right now. Great for information, but this stupid computer has not reached out to give me a hug all day (except through Cindy's email, but even that was prompted by a person, not the machine itself). I want to fall asleep in my husband's arms, but that's not going to happen. We booked him on a new flight for Sunday, so I will still see him soon, just not when I hoped for.

This just became the tip of the iceberg. I have been trying to remain strong for my family all these weeks and until today I didn't get to find out how I've been feeling. The kids need their mother to be there to hug them and comfort them. They've all been missing their daddy. They all cried when I told them the bad news. I had to be there to help them begin to heal and look forward to Sunday instead of dwelling on the hurt of today. And so, I've done as the song tells us, "Don't worry, be happy." The radio has been taunting me with the song, "Sounds Like Life to Me." Heard that one yet? I want to take a baseball bat to the radio every time that one comes on. It's basically about how this guy is complaining how everything is going wrong and his buddy just tells him it just sounds like he's living life and it can be tough, but try to find the bright side. I'd really like to find the bright side of the singer and then kick him there.

Today I've decided to put off this facade of strength and be real. There is crappy stuff happening in our lives right now. Josh not coming home was just one more thing on the list of crap. I try to be optimistic and look forward to the good things to happen, but right now I just need to feel bad. I'd really appreciate it if my house would just get packed and sell. I'd love it if I could be with Josh right now. I need to know that other stresses will have their doors closed so we can overcome them immediately. I want my children to hold their daddy. I have to have a chance to cry without feeling guilt or shame for it. And the only person standing in my way to do that, is me.

So, to avoid feeling alone in this, let's all just cry together. We'll get a bunch of boxes of tissue and just look at each other with that look that says, "I know, I feel that way too." We'll be sad and it will be okay. We'll give ourselves permission to break the barrier of "I can't show any signs of weakness." And then the catharsis will allow us to handle those issues and face them head on again.

It's okay to cry. At least, it better be. I've been doing it most of the day!

The Makings of a Good Week

This week I expect to be good. Very good. Wednesday is my birthday. Yee-haw. As exciting as a 32nd birthday isn't, I'm much more excited for the next day when Josh comes into town. The week started out with the kids in Primary singing Happy Birthday to me. Actually, it was more along the lines of, "You've got a birthday, shout hurray!..." It was nice. And, as of today, most of the main floor of the house is packed. Yes, that includes the kitchen. I pretty much rock my world. If I can get a bunch more packing done, then maybe Josh and I can spend our week celebrating and not packing. Here's hoping.

I've noticed that without Josh around I get bored very easily. Here are the things that bore me:
1. Sunday football
2. Having no internet because the one working computer is being used by someone else
3. Not reading because it will distract me from packing my house
4. Packing my house
5. Monday Night Football
6. Hallmark Channel movies about Hans Christian Anderson
7. Saturday college football
8. Josh being at work so I can't continuously text him
9. Thursday night football

There was no reason for that except to complain that those things bug me. But, luckily, I won't be stuck watching stupid football 24/7 once Josh is here. I LOVE IT that he doesn't enjoy watching football. Anyway, the week has started out wonderfully and will just get better as the days pass. I can't wait for Thursday!!!

Potpourri

I had to make sure I used the word "Potpourri" in the body of my post so I could spell check my title easier. What kind of lame thing is that? I could've used a dictionary. But I couldn't find one. So, I'm left only to use my computerized brain and abandon all decency of a well-educated woman. (Btw, I also had to spell check to make sure I spelled "decency" right. I think I have issues.)

Potpourri

I've labeled this post as Potpourri because I have several random thoughts. Of course, using that word in that context leads me to think of the TV game show Jeopardy, since it is a recurring category. That, in turn, leads me to think the of the Saturday Night Live version of the game. I'll spare you the video clip this time. I've only really been using them because my camera is busted and I don't have any current pictures (or access to any either) to share with you. Again, lame.

Millie's Choice

My little Millie-girl is getting bigger and bigger. She's very mobile: rolling, scooting (sort of), and she gets into the crawling position, but has yet to move forward. Either she moves her hands and falls onto her tummy or she moves her knees and eats the floor. She can go backwards, though. She's just getting so big.

She's also getting so smart. If you have an 8-month-old child, then I apologize in advance. Millie is the smartest 8-month-old on the planet! She loves her blanky. Oh, how she loves her blanky. She especially loves to chew on her blanky. She also loves her pacifier. Oh, how she loves her pacifier. Funnily enough, she loves to chew on her pacifier too. This is when Millie's great conundrum occurred. Millie has been trying with all of her might to figure out how she can have her blanky and pacifier in her mouth at the same time. This has been brutal for her. Of course, she wants them both when she's tired and cranky, which makes her even more tired and cranky. Last Sunday she figured out. She didn't have to choose between the two things she loves. She got them both. We were sitting in church when I looked at Millie sitting in her carseat. She was tired and ready for a nap. But she found the compromise. As she sat there with her eyes glazed in the sleepiest blank look ever, she sucked on her pacifier. Tucked in between her pacifier and her upper lip was her blanky. The bulk of her blanky cascaded down the front of her. She looked so satisfied.

'Fess Up Friday

Can I just say that I have the utmost respect for any person who is able to wake up early to exercise before the rest of their day begins? Loads of respect. Tons. This week I began packing the house. The best time to do it is while the big kids are at school. The best time while the kids are at school is in the morning when Millie is more apt to sleep. Hence, I've lost my workout time to packing. So, if I want to exercise, I have to get up at 6am to do it. I know, some of you are thinking, "Six a.m.? Half the day is gone by then." Yeah, yeah. I'm a night person. A late night person. To you early risers I say, "Midnight, Schmidnight!" My day ends as yours begins. So, needless to say (although I've already said it), waking up that early is tough. And, so, on any day that the only workout time available to me was 6am, I failed. I'll try again this week, but that snooze button is quickly becoming my best friend.

Four and a Half Days

By the time I finish writing this, it will be about four and a half days before I get to see Josh again. Can we say, "FINALLY!"? It's been 5 1/2 weeks. I know that's not that long for some people, but for me it is a loooooooong time. Loooooooooooooooong. I'd love to have the house packed before he gets here so we have nothing to do but hang out and be with each other. I'm trying. The packing is coming along. The cleaning won't be too hard. We've just lowered the price on the house by $6000, hoping that will catch some more interest. I have a good feeling about it. (If you live in Great Falls, MT, and want a house, let me know. I'll hook you up.)

Hunting License

We've been spending a lot of time in Mom and Dad's basement. Everyday when I take a shower I have to precursor-shake the shower curtain. This is because spiders like to climb the shower curtain and when the water begins to spray, they join me in the tub and scare the living daylights out of me. I hate spiders. They are gross. They're not natural. Eight legs? Hello! Freaky!! But the problem is, in Mom and Dad's basement these monsters are supernaturally big. We're talking huge. So incredibly ginormous that you have to get a hunting license from the Department of Wildlife in order to smash them with a shoe. They're not aggressive (thank Heavens!!!) but they seem a little stupid. When they know you're around, they just stay still. That might be smart for some animals, but these GIANT, dark, hairy abominations are generally on the white wall. "Wow! How'd that huge hole get in the wall? Did someone throw a softball at it?" "No, that's just a spider sitting there." Heebie jeebies. That's what I have right now.

Talking To Matt

Tonight Matt and Dad had this conversation:

Dad: Hey, Matt. I haven't talked to you much today.

Matt: (staring)

Dad: It's a Saturday and you've been home all day. I haven't talk to you nearly as much as I do on the days you have school.

Matt: (vaguely nodding)

Dad: Do you want me to talk to you now?

Matt: (thinks about it) Ok. You can talk to me.

Dad: What do you want me to say to you?

Matt: About Spider-Man.

Dad: I really like the Spider-Man movies. Do you?

Matt: Yeah, but not the one with the bad guy with the big arms.

That was their conversation. Please, see the previous section to understand how awesome I think my son is that he doesn't like 8-legged things either.

And those are my most recent thoughts. Anything random you'd like to share?

Song Stuck in my Head

I must be on a music kick right now. I'm blogging more than I expected to have time to, but everything I feel like writing about is about music. Go figure. I love music. I sometimes sing it. I've even been known to pick up an instrument a few times in my life. Emma cracks me up because she thinks I'm the greatest singer in the world. There's nothing much better than the adoration of your eldest child.

Anyway, the other day as I was walking around the grocery store a song popped into my head. I don't know where it came from. It's not like the lyrics are inspirational, or I saw a sign that reminded me of the song, or any other logical explanation. I just suddenly began singing to myself, "Da da da." Now, you may be sitting there wondering how in the world that particular melody would go. Well, wonder no more. Watch this video and it'll all come screaming back to you.



My favorite part is the little figurine-puppet-thing. What the heck is that? And I swear I totally get this commercial, like it's pretty dang close to real life or something.

Alright

I love that Darius Rucker (formerly of Hootie and the Blowfish) is doing country songs. For the longest time, I hated country. I hated everything about it. I hated the lyrics, the music, the artists, the fact that my parents listened to it. And there we find the root of my hatred. I didn't rebel much as a teenager. I wasn't home on time very often and I had an attitude with the best of them, but overall I really wasn't a bad kid. My only true form of rebellion was to hate my parents' music, therefore always wearing my headphones in the car to tune out their music and blast my own. I think it bugged my parents enough, so my somewhat harmless form of independence was sufficient.

It's funny how things change. And it's funny how boys make them change. As I dated a couple different guys, their interest in country music sparked mine. They pretty much paved the way for me to be even more compatible for Josh. I listened to country, but I also listened to my pop station--which regularly played Hootie. Now, I get to have some of both. I love Darius' songs (yes, I'm on a first name basis with him. I call him Darius and he calls me Stranger) and I just thought I'd share my newfound enjoyment.

A Different 'Fess Up Friday

Today is Friday. I know, shocker that I would post this today, right? Well, I've been needing to write this for a while and I figured today was as good as any other day. I'm going to be taking a break from any routine I've currently got in place. It's time to start packing up the house and getting ready for our move. So, my next posts will most likely be sporadic and I'm putting my weighloss on hold again. I'll pick it back up as soon as I can.

In an effort to make today's post about weightloss somehow, here's a clip for you to enjoy:




Today's real confession is brought to you by the letters I, M, and the word FORGETFUL. Lately I've been very forgetful of all the blessings I have, mostly since a few of the blessing I really want I don't get to have right now. So, I've got to put myself back in to check. I've been mentally compiling this list and I'm sure I'll forget things, but maybe the list will help me remember some of the good things I've got going in my life.

I AM THANKFUL FOR/THAT...

my husband and his willingness to sacrifice so much for our family * my kids and that we got to have one on one lunch dates yesterday * we had less fighting yesterday after our lunch dates * our home and how beautiful it is * the gospel * the Atonement * the canopy of trees I drive beneath on Central Ave * the incredible Missouri River * my parents' generosity * Tara and Jabon's generosity * I have an eternal optimism that never fully shuts down * comedies * it's been 45 days since we left New Mexico * laughter * tears * good friends to talk to * hugs * camera phones ;) * September 17 @ 12:35pm * the 35 to 40 lbs I've lost since moving away from Alamosa * my husband's love * my husband's laugh * my husband's sense of humor * my kids' laughs * my excitement for our new adventure

There are so many more things to add, but this would go on forever. So, I challenge you: what are you thankful for?