Life Exasperated

Update

2011-01-16T20:29:00.000-07:00

I finally got the new website functional so you can subscribe by email. I'd love it if you'd all follow me to http://whatmommadoes.com/ Leave comments and let me know what you think.

My new, cozy .com

2011-01-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

I know this is a huge pain for you, my lovely readers, but I bought my own domain, and I'm hoping you will all move with me! That's right. I sucked it up and got a permanent web home. It's going to be more homey, and pretty, but still full of...whatever it is I have here. So, I want you to come along! You can find me at http://whatmommadoes.com/

Graduation and Random Thoughts

2011-01-08T16:06:00.000-07:00

As you may have heard, today was week 9 day 3 of the Couch to 5K program. That's it. The end. I finished! I never would have believed 3 months ago when I started that I would ever be able to actually pull it off. I'm not quite up to the 5K distance yet, but I'm going to work on my endurance and not worry about my distance for now. For today, I am just going to bask in the glow of Graduation.

I know I mentioned that I pray while running. While this is true, I don't necessarily pray the whole time I'm running. Today was a very random thought day, so I decided it would be fun to share.

I started off with a prayer for endurance. It was short. God is smart. He's run with me before, so He knows what I need.
Then I was stopped and asked directions, so I gave them, only to realize I yelled at the people because I had ear buds in, something that my son does that annoys me... Moving on.
I started thinking about what people must think of me as they drive by. After all, it was cold, windy, snowing, and I'm not a small girl. (No, I'm not gonna tell you my weight...rude!)
That brought me to the things people (read : boys) used to say about me in my teen years. You know, back when I weighed 135 lbs. To all of them (you?), I'd like to say this: "I've seen your current facebook pictures. I at least have the excuse of giving birth four times. And you?"
I'd like to send a special shout out to the kid who frequently sexually harassed me at the back table in Earth Science in 9th grade. He married a girl we went to school with. He's quite a catch, I'm sure. *insert eye rolling here*
It was at this point that I turned the corner and headed downhill. I was thinking about how good my pace felt, my breathing wasn't labored, I was feeling good. Then a tumbleweed passed me. It's a good thing the wind was blowing 20 miles an hour or I would have been really insulted. You know, if there was no wind and it sauntered past me, sending a look over its stem...Show-off tumbleweeds really tick me off.
I don't recall any specific thoughts in the next stretch, just joy. That was nice.
I turned the corner and ran past a bush with a couple of dozen birds in it. As I ran by, they flew in circles and then away. I'm not a fan of flocks of birds, but I was extremely relieved they didn't all fall out of the sky, dead.
As I started up the hill past the school (into the wind, no less), the fluffy snow turned into nasty little balls of sleet. I considered that maybe God was paying me back for all the nasty thoughts toward the high school boys, but then decided he probably didn't like what they had done to my self-esteem either, and chalked it up to Montana winter weather.
Around the next corner, uphill, into the wind, again. This is where I always get happy because I can see my street and I know I'm almost done. I don't even care that it's uphill into the wind! Then I get to run one block on flat ground, and up another hill into the wind. This hill does make me hate running uphill into the wind. It's a good thing it's only half a block from there.
And then the euphoria of the descending tone in my ear. I walked around the block to my house, stretched, showered, and here I am. A graduate.

I'm going to take a few days off due to the forecasted frigid temperatures, but will be back at it soon with the start of 10K training.

A Challenge

2011-01-07T15:42:00.000-07:00

OK, a lot of you have said that you find my running "inspiring". I want you to prove it. You can say it all day long, but I don't see myself as inspirational. I'm just a woman who is finally taking time to take care of myself. If you really do feel inspired by me, I want specifics.

That's right. I want to know what you're doing. Have you started running after reading my blog? Tell me about it. Are you eating more healthily? What have you changed? Have you set a goal, and mapped out your route to success? I want to know what and how. Leave a comment or send me an email if you'd like to have your story on my blog. (cassielovespj at hotmail dot com) Let's face it, if I can inspire you, you can inspire people too!

Now, to all of you who are inspired, but not enough to do something about it, I offer a challenge. I challenge you to set a goal. Set a big goal. Set a small goal. Do whatever it takes. Leave your goal in a comment here, or email it to me. Want to lose weight? Set a reasonable goal. Want to learn a new sport? Find a class. Want to run? Do some research. Ask me questions. Whatever it is you want to do, SET A GOAL. I would love to support you on your way to success!

I appreciate all of you reading and commenting on my blog. I hope that I really am inspiring you. Now, go out there and prove it to me! Better yet, prove it to yourself.

Sweet, sweet victory

2011-01-06T16:12:00.000-07:00

After Tuesday's less than fulfilling run, I was a little nervous. I took yesterday off because, frankly, my calves were killing me. I'm pretty sure I could not have run if I'd wanted to. But today... Oh, friends. Today was different. Today started out with a caffeine withdrawal headache, mama drama, and tears. And so I decided to take my frustration running.

I don't know about you, but I find it hard to take the time for Bible reading and praying throughout the day. My favorite time spent with God is while I'm running. That's right. With bad techno blasting in my ears, and slushy snow all around, that's when I find it easiest to be thankful for the strength, the endurance, and the determination to run. I thank God for my ridiculously sweet husband who stays with the kids with no complaints, and encourages me to get out there. I thank Him for carrying me along, for pushing me uphill into the wind, for giving me a hill to run down in the middle. It's very relaxing for me to have the time to reflect on life, and to see how blessed I really am.

Today, fueled by general frustration and my annoyance at not making it all the way Tuesday, I ran like never before. I ran farther (2.27 miles). I ran faster (though not "fast"). I was victorious! And it felt so sweet. I'm back on track, and I feel good. I'm not going to let one little glitch hold me back. And with that, Week 9 Day 2 is a success.

But it FEELS like Failure

2011-01-04T17:59:00.000-07:00

I expected to fail. From day one, I have been waiting for it. Honestly, though, I expected it to come in weeks 4-6 when the running times started to increase. I was sure it would happen when I got into the double digits. But it didn't. Not until today. Not until week 9 day 2 when I am just about to graduate from the program. I didn't see it coming, and when I realized what was happening, my eyes filled with tears, my heart broke, and I started to wonder what I had done wrong.

Did I psych myself out this morning when I realized that at my current pace, it would take me just over three hours of constant, consistent jogging to finish a half marathon? Maybe because I ran yesterday, and I needed to take a day to recover? Of course I wondered if I'm just not good enough to actually reach this goal. That's what failure does. It gets into your head and stands in front of all the positive words so that you can't see them. It didn't matter that I had made it this far. It only mattered that I didn't manage to own this workout, or even drag butt to the finish.

Of course, I know today wasn't an ACTUAL fail. I still managed to run over a mile, and I covered the same ground I would have if I had been running. In all honesty, I made it almost as far walking out the 30 minutes today as I did jogging it yesterday. The thing is, it really FELT like failure. I'm still not happy about it, but after spending an hour wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito, I know that life will go on. I will take tomorrow to recover, but Thursday had better look out, because I will be back out there chasing my dream.

Well, Why Not?

2011-01-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

I am a runner.

I know, if you know me, just the visual of me typing that sentence is hilarious. I am not healthy. I'm not in good physical shape. It has been a lot of years since I would have described myself as "athletic". And yet, here I am. Tomorrow I will start week 9, the final week, of the Couch to 5K program. I have been running (OK, jogging) since mid-October. I am not quite up to running a 5K yet (just over 3 miles), but I'm able to run a little over two miles in 28 minutes. I've never been able to run that far before.

I never thought I could be a runner. I was never given the chance to use an interval program as a tool to improve my endurance. As an asthmatic, I wasn't able to "just run" for 20 minutes in high school PE. I once managed 7 laps (that's 1.75 miles), and promptly retreated to the locker room to vomit. Running was something only the most athletic (and popular) kids did. And believe me, I was neither.

Now, here I am 15 years later, and I've gained all this weight from having babies. And stress-eating. And a general love of food. I don't recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I'm caught off-guard by the size every time I buy new pants. I'm too tired to play with my kids. I worry because my mom and dad both have/had diabetes and are/were obese. I don't want my kids to see me go through the health issues that my parents have.

Since it is a new year, and since I suddenly enjoy running, I've set a goal. I had already decided that I was going to move on to the Bridge to 10K after I finished the 5K program. Then, I was reading an article on women's races when I came across the See Jane Run in Boise. There is a 5K and a half-marathon, so of course I would want to train and run the 5K, right? Ha! Of course not. That would be too easy. Instead, I've decided to run my hiney off, lose weight, get into shape, and train for a half-marathon. It's only 13.1 miles...How hard could it be? (I know, right?)

So, all that New Year, New Me garbage is, well, inspirational I guess. It's finally time I took care of myself. (Not like that "Be more feminine" fiasco from last January. Wow. That was a bad idea!) I'll be sure to keep you posted. Oh yeah, Happy New Year!

As Promised, Pictures from The Plunge

2010-12-17T12:08:00.000-07:00

As you know, my husband, PJ, and a crew of guys he works with at Texas Roadhouse raised money for Montana Special Olympics and then participated in the Freezin' for a Reason Polar Bare Plunge. I want to give a very heartfelt thank you to all of our friends and family who made donations. With your help, they raised over $900! The fun part for you is that I promised photos if you made donations. I'm not one to break promises, so enjoy!

My Chaotic Little Winner

2010-12-16T22:25:00.000-07:00

It's done! With the help of random.org, I've chosen a winner of the Chatic Craftiness gift certificate. Even if you aren't the winner, I think you should hop over to Chaotic Craftiness and see what Lisa (@TaderDoodles on Twitter) has up her sleeve! And remember, If you don't see something listed, and wonder if she can make it for you, just ask.

Are you ready? Are you sure?? Are you positive??? (Only fools are positive, or so my brother used to tell me.) The winner of the $10 gift certificate is... Anna!!! Get ahold of Lisa on Twitter and she will hook you up with what your heart desires.

Thanks for playing! Keep checking back for future giveaways, and let me know if you'd like me to host one for YOU.

*random.org was used to choose the winner of this contest.

The Secrets of My Success

2010-12-12T23:02:00.000-07:00

As a lot of you know, today was my 2 month weight loss check in. The results are in, and I've lost several inches the last 2 months and I'm down 14.2 pounds!! It isn't enough to win The Biggest Loser, but it's enough that I can fit into three pairs of pants that I couldn't two months ago. It's enough that a few more of my shirts fit comfortably. It's enough to keep me going, keep me smiling, and keep me jogging, of all things!

When I shared my success on Twitter this morning, several people asked me how I did it. Since my goals, plans, and actions were hard to fit into 140 characters, I thought I would post it here for all to see.

First of all, I have made a few changes in my diet. I'm not ON a diet. And I didn't cut much out of my diet. I switched to Splenda in my coffee, and I eat yogurt with oats in it for breakfast instead of a big bowl of cereal. I try to buy fruits and vegetables to snack on instead of candy and other "bad" foods. I have made this biggest changes in my portion sizes. I still eat pizza, but have only one or two small slices instead of four. I gave up sodas, but every once in a while, I get a craving. Instead of drinking a Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper like I used to, I grab a Diet Root Beer. I buy Lite string cheese instead of regular. Really, the little changes add up quickly.

Next, I've started exercising. I'm not talking about four hours a day in a gym. I'm sticking with 30 minutes, three days a week. If I manage more than that, great! My main activity is the Couch to 5K program. Basically, it takes people who have no experience running through an interval program that builds up to an uninterrupted 30 minute run. I'm starting week 6 tomorrow. Friday I jogged (I'm not to the point of running yet.) a full 20 minutes, and I covered about 1.75 miles in that time. I haven't run that long or far in over a decade! When I do fit something else in, it's a Biggest Loser workout, yoga, or a Walk Away the Pounds video.

Last, I have a great support network. My husband is a champ, and lets me go out jogging while he hangs out with the kids. He's very supportive of my efforts, and proud of my accomplishments. My mom helps out with the kids when PJ is working. My friend, Rachel, also did the C25K with me while she was in town. Plus, I have a great group of online friends who are all working toward the same goals as me. It makes a huge difference when I have friends to hold me accountable, ask questions about what I've done and how I'm feeling, and can understand what I am going through. I know from previous experience that I would have given up weeks ago if it wasn't for all of them.

In short, I'm doing all those things "they" say to do: Eat right, exercise, and have a support system. I wish it was easier, but it's not. I'm not sure I will manage to hit my end-of-the-year goal (I have 12.5lbs to go), but I'm extremely happy with the progress I've made so far. It's not magic, but if you have any questions for me, please ask away. I'm hoping I will have a bigger (smaller?) success story to share with you next month!

You Look Like You Could Use Some Chaos!

2010-12-10T22:36:00.001-07:00

I think everyone should have a little chaos in their day. I don't mean the kind that makes you hide in the bathroom, or that you find at Wal-Mart any Saturday in December. I'm talking about the Chaotic Craftiness you get from "four kids, three cups of coffee, two sewing machines, one hubby, and zero sleep", better known as Lisa from Chaos Appreciation.

My beautiful card holder

Just as her headline says, she's a momma to four kids, and she's very crafty. A few months ago, Lisa started selling her fun and useful products in an Artfire shop. (You'll be really happy she did because you're going to get a chance to win something from her!) When she asked if I'd like to write a review of one of her products, I jumped on the opportunity. Imagine how excited I was when I received not one, but two business card holders from her. There was a fun, feminine one for me, and a manly denim one for my husband.

The current contents of my
business card holder

Now, my husband has his business card holder packed full of, well, business cards. I don't have business cards, so I packed mine full of the cards I keep with me at all times. Take a look at the picture. It currently holds my debit card, driver's license, PetSmart card, Subway card, Flex Spending card, insurance card, and a Famous Footwear discount card. Though you'd think this would pack it tight, I know it will hold more. That's right. I used to have even more stuffed into this little card holder. Trust me when I say that they're well worth the $8 she sells them for in her shop. Plus, she has lots of fabrics to choose from!

These bibs can be personalized!

Now the kids can take their crayons
along without the hassle.

If business cards aren't your thing, how about bibs? Or tissue cases? Pacifier clips? Maybe an apron? Lisa has a lot of great items in her store. They are all handmade, and they'd make great Christmas gifts. And the best part? I'm giving a lucky winner a $10 gift certificate to Chaotic Craftiness! All you have to do is leave a comment on this post telling me what you'd buy if you won the gift certificate. Besure to include your email address or twitter name so I know how to contact you! Each person gets one entry, so make it good! (To leave a comment, click on the number to the left of this posts' title.) Sounds easy, right? THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS!

Now, go on. Go check out her wares, leave me a comment, and early next week I will randomly choose a winner.

*Disclaimer: I do not receive monetary compensation for my blog. I do receive a sample product free of charge for evaluation. I was not required to give a positive review. All opinions expressed are my own.

Do it for Kevin

2010-12-01T21:47:00.001-07:00

I know this time of year brings a lot of messages telling you to give money here and donate to there and help this or that...The only difference between all of those other messages and this one is that this request involves two men who are very important to me. Most of you don't know them, and probably never will. That's ok. I will fill you in, and then you can decide if I'm giving you a worthy cause.

PJ and his winter beard :0)

The first man I'm doing this for is my husband, PJ. He and the rest of the Texas Roadhouse management team have set a goal to raise $5000.00 for Special Olympics. I will tell you right now, they aren't even close to reaching that goal. In two days, these men will plunge half naked into a frozen Montana lake whether they raise the money or not. It's because they are dedicated, and this is an important event.

Kevin with his 2010 SO Medals

The second man is Kevin. He's PJ's big brother, my brother-in-law, and he has Down Syndrome. Kevin has participated in Special Olympics his entire life, and he has a closet full of medals to prove it! The sense of accomplishment he gets from competing is huge. Kevin is one of the sweetest, most down-to-earth people I have ever met. It's no wonder PJ is so committed to this cause.

I can tell you want to know how to help. I will tell you, but first, consider this: If we all do something small, we can make big things happen. I'm not going to ask any of you to donate $5000, though if you can and you want to, I won't stop you! I know the economy stinks, and money is scarce. But do you have $1? Or maybe $5? It'll help. If each of my blog subscribers gave $5, that would be an extra $105. If each of my twitter followers gave $5, they would raise $4295!!!

I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important to me. Will you help?? Every dollar is appreciated. The fun part is, if you get involved, we will share pictures of the guys during the plunge! They're not just dedicated, but also a little crazy! If you've decided you can spare a buck, visit their website here. If you can't, that's fine. I thank you for taking the time to read this anyway.

GM John and PJ before the 2008 Polar Bare Plunge

Beaneath the Streets, Havre, Montana (Part 1)

2010-11-27T16:33:00.000-07:00

Poker table in the Sporting Eagle Saloon

While we were on vacation last week, my in-laws took our family on the most interesting homeschool field trip to date. We got to go under the streets of Havre into shops that had been built in the early 1900's. An arsonist set a fire in the business distric of Havre in 1904. The fire destroyed a majority of downtown Havre. Building materials were scarce and expensive, so the proprieters moved their businesses underground. Think of it as an underground mall. With nearly 20 stores in the tour, there was a lot to see! Each room contained authentic pieces from the time period, and many that were original to the stores represented in the tour.

One of the Bordello rooms

The Bordello was first used as underground living space for the Chinese railroad workers. Racism was prevalent in this area and time period, so most of the Chinese workers "hid out" in their underground rooms to escape poor treatment from the white and Native population. After the railroad tracks were completed in this area, the small rooms were converted into a "cozy" bordello. The guide didn't go into more detail than this due to the large number of children (mostly mine) in our tour group.

Some of the equipment in the Casady Blacksmith Shop

The Casady Blacksmith shop had more tools and equipment than I ever would have guessed! (Check out the huge bellows in the bottom left of the picture!) There was also a tack shop (Bruce Clyde, Dray and Tack Shop) attached with an old Singer sewing machine, an Antique Stetson hat, and a saddle that was handmade by a local leathersmith.

Boones Drug Store was my favorite stop on the tour. When taking a prescription in to be filled, you could pass the time in their department store shooping for fine china and toiletries (like the toilet waters and egg shampoo in the picture at right). You could also settle in at the soda fountain (pictured above) for an ice cream treat. Each summer, there is an event held in the city beneath the streets and they actually serve ice cream and sodas in the little fountain area, baked goods in the bakery, and deli items from the meat market!

We had a great time, and this is just the beginning! I will get another post ready with more pictures next week. Come on back. I'd hate for you to miss the Opium Den or the Holland & Bonine Mortuary!

Vacation Doesn't Always Equal Relaxation

2010-11-22T14:23:00.000-07:00

My husband somehow managed to get the entire week before Thanksgiving off from work. This is a first for us. We started getting ready to leave last week. You know, washed clothes, cleaned the house, and packed bags. On Thursday, our two year old daughter threw up twice. Not good. Later that day, our six year old did it too. That's when I started to get nervous. After all, we were leaving on Saturday to go to my in-law's house for the week. It's normally a four hour drive, but with the snowy conditions all the way, we knew it would take longer. Then Friday came, and all was well, so I stopped worrying.

The Road, I think

Saturday morning, we packed the bags, the kids, and the dogs into the car and headed out. The four hour trip took more like seven because the road was snow packed the whole way. The good news is, the trip was vomit-free. The bad news is that the days since haven't been. In fact, three of the four kids have been sick since we got here. They all made it through church yesterday, but dinner last night was a series of unfortunate (and messy) events. And the ten year old boy was up sick last night, which means I was up last night for about three hours.

Did I mention that I had a migraine all day Sunday? Of course, I did. I always have one the day after traveling.

In the middle of all the sickness, one of our pups escaped the back yard and went for a little neighborhood jaunt. I knew there was a reason I felt compelled to write their names and my phone number on their collars before we left town. Don't worry though. She only made it about two blocks before my father-in-law and son spotted her, in the Police Chief's yard, no less.

I'm very happy to report that I slept in until 10 this morning. The kids are all vomit and diarrhea free so far today. The dogs are contained, and have learned to use the doggy door. And the temp has climbed up to 0degrees. Yes, I said UP to zero. It's cold here, people.

Now we will just sit back and hope things continue to go smoothly. Two days down, five to go...

One Month Health Update

2010-11-16T19:38:00.000-07:00

I know I just told all of you last week that I was starting an exercise program, but I've actually been working on my weightloss goals for a month now. I'm not anywhere near reaching my goal yet (it's a BIG goal), but I am proud to say that I have lost 10 pounds! I am at a weight that I haven't seen in about three and a half years, not since before my last pregnancy. I'm excited! You probably can't tell by looking at me, but I'm OK with that as long as I continue to make progress.

My next goal is to lose another 15 pounds by the end of the year. That'll put me at a weight that I can't even remember for sure when I last saw it. It's obviously been a while.

The biggest hurdle for me is going to be that my workout buddy is going to be in Canada for the next month. Add that to the suddenly winter temperatures and a week at my in-laws' house for Thanksgiving, and see where I will be struggling. I'm still going to stick with it. I will find a way to get the workouts in each day. I'm not going to fail this time.

One of THOSE days...

2010-11-09T14:11:00.000-07:00

I know today isn't even close to being over, but seriously. I has already been one of those days. The kind that make me wish I was a drinker, or had to travel for business, or that it wasn't illegal to lock my kids in a dog kennel for rest time.

It's almost as if our house couldn't exist without drama, so we have to keep it at a max in order to stay grounded on Earth. With five kids in the house, there is never a shortage of drama. Today, #1 had schoolwork meltdown, #2 was suddenly unable to read, #5 was fascinated with hitting the dogs with their own chew toys, and #4 was obsessed with every single thing #5 did. #3 was pleasantly easy to coexist with. It must be his day off.

Now add a basket of laundry, numerous conference calls, two wet dogs, and three sleep deprived adults. Do you see what I'm getting at here? My question is this: WHERE. IS. THE. CHOCOLATE???

Week 2 Day 1, and no I'm not joking

2010-11-08T18:28:00.001-07:00

The temperature got up to 46 degrees here today, with constant 30mph winds. I don't even want to think about the gusts. After not getting any exercise the last few days, I decided I'd better go do week 2 day 1 of C25K anyway. Heh.

This happened 2 weeks ago...

I set out dressed in running pants, a T-shirt, a hoodie, cozy socks, Nikes, my ear buds, and a BSU stocking cap. (Have I mentioned it was cold and windy?) My water bottle all but froze to my hand.

My first running interval was, of course, uphill and into the wind. As if that wasn't enough, about 30 seconds into it, I was attacked by a Pomeranian. I didn't hear it come up behind me because of my music. It was 3 inches from me and barking before I knew it was there. I jumped, felt like an idiot, laughed at myself, and prayed no one was watching.

The next interval made me think I should cut my loop short because cold weather, jogging, and asthma don't mix. Then I got headed downhill with the wind behind me and changed my mind.

During the running portion of the 3rd set, my underwear slid down and settled atop my thighs. I would have straightened them, but I was directly in front of our new church at the time, and there was a crowd of teenagers in the parking lot. From this point on I literally froze my a$$ off.

The last running section was also uphill into the wind while dodging high school students returning from lunch. Did I mention my underwear were trying to escape my body?

But, I did it. I was frozen. And tired. And felt naked. And was so proud of myself and thankful to God for getting me through. Look out, week 2. I'm ready for you!

Week 1 of Couch to 5K

2010-11-08T17:16:00.000-07:00

I am happy to say that I lived through the first week of the C25K. The first day was a little boring because I downloaded a program on my BlackBerry to keep track of my intervals, but it wouldn't work with my music. I spent the quiet time praying for my friends, my family, other people like me who are afraid to fail, and therefore never try... I watched the horses in the pasture and the kids at the high school. And then I realized I had made it through.

Days two and three I used music from here that had already been set up with the intervals for week one. I'm not a fan of techno music, but it was nice to have something to listen to. It also helped that I had some great twitter friends who were willing to start on this adventure with me. We all have our own issues, goals, and approach, but the support system is wonderful!

Look out Week 2!

Taking the first step

2010-11-08T16:49:00.000-07:00

I know you've heard me talk before of hating my current shape, wanting to adopt a healthy lifestyle, starting an exercise routine... Same old story. This time is different. I've been thinking a lot about all of the health issues my parents have dealt with, a majority of which stemmed from their obesity. I'm not getting any younger, and I'm extremely out of shape. I don't want to deal with diabetes and heart issues. I want my kids to have a healthier outlook than the one I grew up with. I don't want my kids to live by the idea of always having to clean their plates, whether they are still hungry or not. And I want to change my thinking as well.

I'm not saying I want us to be wasteful. I do want to be more aware of what and how much we eat. We will offer healthier options. My family loves fruits and veggies, so we should be eating more of them. The kids have plenty of opportunity to exercise, but I need to make more time for me to get moving. I will do my best to keep you all informed (and me accountable) of my progress. I'm too young to be obese and not try to change my circumstances.

The first step: Couch to 5K... Lord help me.

And the Winner is...

2010-09-16T22:13:00.001-06:00

I'm about to post my 16,000th tweet on Twitter, and you know what that means! I've got a winner. I know you're going to love Erin's work as much as I do. With no further ado...@SassafrasHill You just won a $40 gift certificate from Erin Lowden and Love Letters Jewelry!!!Thank you to all who entered. I can't wait to do it again! Be sure to check out www.loveletters.name for gifts to match any occasion.*The winner was chosen at random electronically from the list of entrants.

Super Saturday Giveaway!!!

2010-09-11T00:01:00.006-06:00

Yesterday I introduced you all to Erin and Love Letters Jewelry. Today she's giving you the chance to win a $40 gift certificate! That's right. If you win, you get $40 to spend any way you'd like at www.loveletters.name

I can see you're excited, so let me tell you how to win. Each person

gets one (1) entry.

That's it. Just one.

You can either leave me a comment on this blog post (just click the circle up by the post title) with your favorite thing from the Love Letters Jewelry website, your name and email address, or you can copy the following message and post on Twitter:

I want @cassie_d_ape and @lovelettersFW to make me a winner!

A winner will be chosen at random when I reach 16,000 tweets. (Less than 500 from now.) The more you talk to me on Twitter, the faster the contest will end! (But you still only get one entry.)

Why are you still sitting here?! Get yourself entered. And tell the guys to enter too because this would be an awesome gift!

Featured Friday: Love Letters Jewelry

2010-09-10T00:01:00.013-06:00

This little box came in my mail today.

My own personal Love Letter

I come across people of all sorts on Twitter, and while I'm nearlya hermit in real life, I love socializing on the internet. Of course, I'm drawnto people with interests similar to mine. One of my favorite aspects of Twitteris meeting people who are creative and crafty, people who take pride in makingthings for others to enjoy. That is what led me to Erin Lowden, or@lovelettersFW.

Erin has a full-time job away from home, but when her husband,Chris, was laid off, she decided to turn her hobby into a home business. She openedLove Letters in April, and loves it so much that she would like to be able tobe a full-time work at home mom. (Her son, Jonathan is adorable. I can see whyshe would want to be home with him!)

Love Letters Jewelry is high quality, personalized, hand stamped jewelry.She makes necklaces, bracelets, baby bracelets, bookmarks, key chains, pets tags,and even dog tags and golf ball markers for the menfolk!

For man's best friend . . .

For Mom or Grandma . . .

For the bride . . .

Erin's products are great gifts for birthdays, weddings, holidays,new parents, graduation, and the list goes on. She has charms for nearly anythingyou can think of. If your kid makes the bobsled team or your wife is an RN,Love Letters Jewelry has you covered! If you're like me and you can't make up yourmind, you can always go with a Love Letters gift certificate.

When you fall in love with Love Letters Jewelry like I have, you can signup for the newsletter, check the calendar for upcoming events, and you can evenhost parties (locally in Fort Wayne or on a website set up just for you)!

You can check out Love Letters Jewelry on the web at www.loveletters.name ,on facebook www.facebook.com/lovelettersjewelry , and @lovelettersFW on Twitter.

Check back tomorrow for a special Love Letters Jewelry Super Saturday Giveaway!

Disclaimer: The keychain shown above was provided to me for free to review. I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are my own.

God's Blanket

2010-09-08T21:08:00.001-06:00

I had already had an ultrasound. My midwife had already told me I would miscarry. I already knew my babies (2 of them) hadn't developed and would never breathe, smile, or grab my finger. Still, there was a nagging voice in my head telling me to buy the two pieces of fleece in sweet baby prints. So I did.

All this time I thought God was up to something in my life. It always takes me by surprise when I realize that it's not all about me.

Last night while looking through my fabric stash for a cute piece to make a baby blanket, that same voice kept saying, "Not that one. Keep looking". Over and over again. Just as I thought I was out of choices, I came to those two pieces of fleece, hidden away in the bottom of the box. "Yes. Those ones. It's time to use them."

I immediately burst into tears (because I'm an emotional wreck anyway) and formed my argument on the tip of my tongue. But God always wins. He said, "She needs to feel loved more than you need to hide away these pieces of fabric."

I know this all sounds silly, but I always thought God telling me to buy it anyway was His way of telling me I would need it someday. For me. For my babies. I had no idea He meant it for someone I hadn't even met. But again, God always wins.

I haven't cut into it yet, but I will. And I will wash it before I send it off. It's not fair to blanket someone else in my tears.

Fall is in the air, and the kitchen!

2010-08-31T17:33:00.001-06:00

Summer is the season of the young. I can recall the bliss of spending the entire day riding my bike around the neighborhood with my wild band of friends. A sun kissed glow across my cheeks and popsicles in my belly. As an adult, I've come to enjoy the arrival of fall. The cooler temperatures and beautiful colors fit this season of my life.

As much as I like the changes in weather and foliage, I think I'm more in love with the seasonal food and drinks. So on this very gloomy, wet, chilly day, I indulged in some of my Autumn favorites. (I will include the recipes for you)

As an afternoon treat for the kids (and maybe for me) I made a batch of no-bake oatmeal cookies. Ok, they are my favorite, but I did share with the kids. I also nearly cried when I was gathering ingredients and didn't have any vanilla extract. (Who doesn't have vanilla extract??) I hit up Google though, and found that I could substitute maple syrup for vanilla. Crisis averted!

*No Bake Oatmeal Cookies

Combine 2c sugar, 1/4c cocoa, and 1/2c milk in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, and boil for one minute. Remove from heat.
Stir in 1/2c peanut butter, 1 stick of butter, 1tsp vanilla (or syrup), and 3c quick oats.
Drop with a spoon onto waxed paper and let stand until firm.

The cookies were so yummy, and such a hit with the kids that I got really ambitious and decided to make my absolute favorite cold-weather food...potato soup! I pulled out the old church cookbook (the cookie recipe was from the same book) and the first soup recipe was for a creamy potato soup and I had all the ingredients. That's a sign, right?

*Creamy Potato Soup with Chicken

Cut two chicken breasts into bite sized pieces and cook in frying pan. Set aside.
Wash and cut 6 medium potatoes into cubes. Dice an onion (or not, onion is optional) and add the potatoes and onion to a large can of chicken stock in a big stock pot. When potatoes are cooked, use a slotted spoon to remove 2/3 to a large bowl. Puree the other 1/3 with the liquid and set aside.
In the stock pot, melt 2tbsp butter and mix in 2tbsp flour. Combine to make a soft paste. Then add 1c milk. Stir continuously until it thickens and becomes creamy.
Add in puree, potatoes, and chicken. I also added some Alpine Touch (a Montana made seasoned salt) and some parmesan cheese.
Makes approximately 6 servings.

*this soup would also be great with corn, broccoli, or bacon!

The soup turned out creamy and delicious. Even though my kitchen is a MESS, I am in love with today. The air was crisp. The cookies were chocolatey. The potato soup was just like Grandpa used to make.

Homeschool PE 101: No more training wheels

2010-08-10T10:16:00.001-06:00

I love that we can choose from so many activities for homeschool PE. The kids express interest in something new every day, and we add it to our list of things to look into. However, we decided that our first PE activity should be learning to ride a two-wheeled bike.
Our oldest is ten and already knows how, but the next two, ages six and seven haven't learned yet. Our oldest son learned to ride in three days, so I just assumed the other kids would be equally as quick to pick it up.

I. Was. So. Wrong.

The first thing my daughter said to me was, "What if I fall down and scrape my knees?"
"Well, you will. It's going to happen. It might happen even AFTER you learn to ride. You just have to suck it up and keep trying."
"But I don't want to."
"I understand. No one WANTS to get hurt, but it happens. Sometimes that's the price you pay to have fun and learn new things."
"It doesn't sound like fun," she replied.
"Well, no. Getting hurt isn't the fun part. Being able to ride and the freedom is the fun part. If you just keep pedaling and steer, I will help you balance so you don't fall."

*insert look of skepticism here

So, she geared up, walked her bike out to the (very quiet and safe) street, and climbed on. I reassured her that I would be holding on. She put one foot up on the pedal and shot me a look that clearly implied that I would be held accountable for any skinned knees. Finally, she started to pedal.
I ran next to her on the down slope. I practically pushed all 75 pounds of her and her bike back up. She wobbled. She jumped off. We repeated this several times. It was hot, frustrating (for both of us), and took a lot of practice, but guess what...
Well, never mind. She didn't get it, and I'm pretty sure I had heat stroke by the time we were done. We both walked away annoyed, exhausted, and dehydrated. Two days later I was still thinking we should have started with something easier and less dangerous... Maybe archery or knife juggling.
On the other hand, maybe there is such a thing as over teaching on things like bike riding. She took it upon herself to go out and practice. She risked the safety of her knees, not to mention our neighbor's mailbox (which she only hit once) and was successful. She's still wobbly and uncertain, but the training wheels are gone for good.
While I'm still mad at myself for being so impatient and not knowing exactly what she needed from me in order to learn, I'm also wildly excited for her, and so proud of her determination!

If the Heat Doesn't Kill You, the Prices Will!

2010-07-31T21:50:00.001-06:00

My mom called me first thing this morning to see if the kids and I wanted to check out the Farmer's Market with her downtown. I didn't have anything planned, so we went.
I won't lie. I had visions of making my two-year-old daughter walk so I could fill the stroller plumb full of fresh produce, Hutterite baked goods, and beautiful plants.
We got lucky right off and found a close parking spot right at the entrance. I should have known it was an omen. Extreme good has to be balanced out with an equal amount of bad juju.
The first fail of the day was the temperature. As soon as I stepped out of the car, enormous beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Since it is July, I went with it. We had several water bottles filled with ice water, so I figured we'd survive.
As we started walking from booth to booth, I nearly lost it. I thought maybe the sweat dripping in my eyes was impairing my vision, but no. The prices were truly...I don't know. Heart stopping? Ridiculous? Definitely not affordable to the average Joe.
I'm all for supporting my local growers and I LOVE fresh produce, but if I have to get a home equity loan to pay for it, I will just stick to Sam's Club.

The FSA Saves the Day...Again

2010-07-29T12:01:00.001-06:00

We took our four kids to the dentist yesterday. They all had appointments at the same time, which I love. We arrived early with our paperwork filled out and insurance card in hand, all ready to go! (This is no small feat for me.)

They took the three big kids all back at the same time, and when they were nearly done with their cleanings, we went back with the littlest little to have her teeth checked and talk to the doctor. All four of them did a great job, and only two needed further work.

Our oldest has always had an underbite. He reminds me of a little pirahna. :0) Anyway, we were told not to worry about it until he got his permanent teeth to see if they grew in the same way. Well, that time is now, and they did. They are going to fit him with an incline plain to correct his underbite. It looks like a wad of chewed up bubblegum that will sit on top of his lower front teeth and force his top teeth forward when he bites down. This should only take a few weeks.

Our second oldest has been complaining of tooth pain for two weeks, so I wasn't surprised to hear that she had a cavity. What I wasn't expecting to hear was that she doesn't have sufficient space for permanent teeth to come in. His plan was to fill the cavity, shave a little off the sides of her lower canines, and fit her with a metal device to help make space.

We were lucky because someone called while we were there to cancel an appointment. They could get both kids back in that afternoon to get started.

A lot of people would be a little panicky at that point because the doctor expects payment at the time of service. We are lucky though. My husband's job offers us the chance to pay into an FSA (Flexible Spending Account). It is basically money taken out of his checks pre-tax and put into a savings account for us to use on medical expenses and OTC meds that are NOT covered by our insurance. We have a credit card linked to that account. It felt so good yesterday to be able to take the open appointment, have the necessary work done on our kids' teeth, and not have to worry about how we were going to pay for it. Especially since it totalled over $1800.00, and our portion was almost $600.00.

We left the office, grabbed a quick lunch, dropped C3 and C4 off at Grammy's for a nap, let the pups out for a potty break, and headed back to the dentist. It took another two hours to get everything done on both of them.

Now we just have to wait for their "appliances" to come in so they can be placed.

*If you don't know if an FSA is an option for you, ask your employer. It has been a lifesaver for us many times. When our last two babies were born. When my husband had to have knee surgery. Any time that any of us are sick and our only option is the ER. We don't have the panic over medical bills anymore.

When Blenders Attack!

2010-06-07T19:01:00.001-06:00

I wanted to call this post "When Blenders Attack My Husband's Cooking Utensils!", but finally decided like it sounded like a bad comeback attempt by Bryan Adams, so I went with the condensed title. A good alternate would have been, "It all started at Wal-Mart." Either way, the story is the same.

It all started at Wal-Mart. (I know I already said that, but it did.) My niece and I took a quick trip to buy generic Oreos and ice cream so I could make milk shakes for a special treat. We ended up buying fake Oreos with chocolate frosting, chocolate ice cream, and caramel topping. It was only after we returned home that I realized that I was wearing a shirt that said, "A balanced diet is a piece of chocolate in each hand." Fitting.

As I started making über-chocolate caramel milk shakes, I searched for the little plastic pokey tool (that's the technical term) that pushes the food down into the blades of the blender, but to no avail. (It's hiding in a cupboard, not the drawer.). Instead, I settled on a rubber spatula. All was going along smoothly until I came across one lone chunk of ice cream that would not be blended. In an attempt to make a creamy milk shake, I pushed the ice cream down into the blades of the blender.

Let me insert here that I am thankful that my husband bought the nice blender. Sharp blades. Optional drink dispensing spout. Pokey tool. It's a high quality piece of kitchen gadgetry. This fact was also the downfall of milk shake attempt #1.

As I pushed the ice cream down, I misjudged the distance and also pushed the spatula into the blades. The sharp blades grabbed that rubber spatula like a mother grizzly protecting her cubs! Imagine my surprise as I pulled up a half shredded rubber spatula. For several seconds I actually debated in my head whether I should dump it, or keep it as my own to avoid wasting enough milk shake for an adult and three kids. In the end, I figured I'd better go with my logical self and dump it all. It was a very sad occasion watching the chocolatey fake-oreo stream running down the drain. I definitely had second thoughts while washing the sweet treat out of the sink and blender.

Takes two and three were executed with more care and turned out delicious. Now I just have to decide what to do with the thoroughly gnawed up spatula.

One thing Garth Brooks and I have in common

2010-06-05T23:55:00.001-06:00

I know it's just a song, but I too am much too young to feel this damn old. When did it happen? I seem to have lost all the muscle, energy, and drive that I had in my 20's. Are the 30's really that different?

As you know, we just bought a house and have been moving. I'd just like to say that I feel lucky to have survived the last 48 hours. In the last two days we have moved all of our furniture and heavy stuff. I have muscle aches in places that I didn't know could hurt. And to top it all off, I'm sweaty and out of breath as well.

I guess if I needed a wake-up call concerning my health and weight, this week has done it. There is no good reason for me to feel this horrible in my early 30's! I'm thinking I should start walking in the morning after my husband gets up. It's low impact enough that even I can handle it. Now if I can just stay away from the ice cream and Mountain Dew as rewards...

In Memory of My "Family"

2010-05-31T21:45:00.000-06:00

If you have read back through my blog posts, my tweets on twitter, or met me in person, you'll know that I have an interesting relationship with my family. I just laughed out loud while typing that because, the truth is, I have no relationship with most of my family. Memorial Day has a lot to do with it.

My dad died a few years back, and it was almost a relief in the sense that I could then choose to never have contact with my step-mother again. We had the typical step relationship you hear about. She was evil. I could do no right. You get the picture. She and my dad were actually married twice. The first time they had four kids. Then the divorce came, and so did I. When I was about seven, they remarried, and I became her arch nemesis, though I didn't understand why at the time. Anyway, moving on.

When my dad died, she had him cremated. I have to take her word that that's what Dad wanted because I wasn't allowed to have anything to do with the funeral. They had a video made with pictures of the family, and there was one picture of my kids in it. I cried, not because I missed him, but because I felt like such an outsider there surrounded by my "family." I wasn't allowed to take one of the plants or floral arrangements home from the service "because you have such a long drive home. It would never make it." Yeah. Five hours. I'm sure.

Then, out of nowhere, my husband got an opportunity to move to Montana. We decided to take it, and it landed us smack in the same town as my step-mother, two sisters, a brother, and their families. As an adult, I decided I would do what I could to build a relationship with my siblings. We started visiting on holidays, one sister and her kids bought from my son's Cub Scout den and my daughter's Girl Scout Troop, I asked one niece to stay at the house one night while we took the baby to the emergency room... All things I would come to regret.

Last year on Memorial Day, I was really missing my dad (or the idea of my dad, anyway). I felt resentful for not having someplace I could go to feel near him. His ashes had been scattered out in the country somewhere, and I hadn't been there to know where. Out of hurt and frustration, I wrote two sentences that would change my life. My facebook status read, "I'm really missing you, Dad. I guess she finally got her way because I can't even bring you flowers." Look out!

Now, I'm not stupid. I knew my nieces were on facebook. I knew there was a chance it would come back to bite me. The crazy thing is, I just didn't care. I was tired of having to make the effort all the time. I didn't want to be the one to call, and wonder if they were inviting me over because they felt obligated to. If I had been worried about anyone reading it, I wouldn't have typed it. But nothing happened. Well, not exactly. Nothing happened for a full month. That's when things got hairy.

I have one niece who is more like a daughter to me. She was over one afternoon, which was pretty common, when her mom sent her a text informing her that she should tell me that I needed to be careful what I put on the Internet for all the world to see. Huh? She called her mom to find out what was going on, and learned that another of my nieces (or two) had just told my step-mother (their grandmother) about my Memorial Day status. You know the expression about the stuff and the fan, right? Yeah. That happened.

Things got out of hand quickly, and I finally got so upset that I called my step-mother to get it straightened out. Now, you have to understand, in 24 years, I had never called my step-mother on purpose. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do, and when she answered and started chewing my head off, I told her that. I explained my feelings, my stance, and she tried to make nice like I was the one blowing it out of proportion.

That was the last time I had contact with any of them, other than the one niece who is more like a daughter. They threw back in my face the time I had been allowed to spend with them, the popcorn they bought from my son, the GS cookies they bought from my daughter, all of it. They have completely cut me out of their "family." I was really upset at first. Why wouldn't my own family, my brothers and sisters just love me because I'm me? What did I have to do to get them to accept me? Then one day I was talking to a friend on the phone when it hit me...

I have an amazing family. God gave me the chance to pick exactly who I wanted to surround myself with. I have the best husband ever (don't bother arguing with me.), four kids I couldn't live without, and friends like you would not believe! I have brothers and sisters who love me. ME!!! Just the way I am. We don't share blood, but we share faith. We share memories. We share laughs, and dreams, and I don't mind when they call me at 2am crying, and they wouldn't mind if I did the same. I don't have to wonder how they feel, or what is OK to say around them. That's because they are my family, and family means more than being related.

Baby Love Part 3

2010-05-16T01:53:00.003-06:00

My third pregnancy was something else. We lived in a state that didn't have a single in-network provider for our insurance, so we had to drive 45 miles to the next state for anything requiring a doctor unless we wanted to pay way more out of pocket than any family should ever have to for medical care. It made things really interesting when it came to prenatal care, and I can remember being convinced that I would give birth in the car on the way to our approved hospital.

Like my two previous pregnancies, I was put on bed rest, I think it was around 33 weeks. I was also prescribed medication just in case I started contracting. Our other babies had both been born premature. Since I had two small children already, and a husband who worked long, crazy hours, my mother-in-law came to stay with us and help out until the baby was born. She was great to have around. Wouldn't let me do anything but pee and every other day I got to shower. I sat in our huge, green leather recliner for two weeks, hand sewing a quilt for our daughter while she was there.

On night just before bedtime, I started having a few minor contractions. They weren't painful, but they were steady and only about six minutes apart. I took a pill like a good girl, sat back, relaxed, and...continued contracting. An hour later I took another pill because they advised me it might take two to make contractions stop. Or not. My mother-in-law was in bed asleep. My husband was still at work. It was midnight. I was having contractions that kept getting stronger and closer together. Oh, and I was 45 miles from the hospital.

I woke Loretta, called PJ at work, and set about packing a hospital bag. (No, I didn't have one ready because it was still five weeks to my due date.) PJ made it home in record time (because there is zero traffic in Cheyenne, Wyoming at midnight any day of the week) and we headed out at NASCAR speed to Fort Collins, Colorado. I was positive we wouldn't make it, and PJ kept speeding up to ensure that we did. I'm pretty sure that trip only took us about twenty minutes.

When we arrived at the hospital, a nurse had to come out with a wheel chair to collect me because I knew if I tried to walk in, the baby would fall out! She assured me that it would be fine as we were riding up in the elevator with another expectant mom who was farther into labor than me. When her nurse jokingly told a story about a woman giving birth in that very elevator the year before, the woman shot her a death glare and yelled, "That was me!" OK. So much for putting us at ease...

We got checked in, changed, into a room, checked, and were told it would be a while. I wanted to take advantage of the new jacuzzi tub, so they moved me in. I'd like to offer a little tip here. A powerful jetted tub is not a good thing for a woman in the late stages of labor. I felt like I was being pummeled to death, and the nurses couldn't figure out how to get it to stop completely, so every five minutes the jets would start up again, I would curse the new wonderful birthing center, and my poor husband would look helpless.

It wasn't long before I knew I needed to get out of the tub and to the bed, so we hurried (Ha! Yeah right.) out of the bathroom, got the bed prepped, and they checked me again. My midwife gave me the go ahead, and I'm pretty sure I never pushed. I maintain to this day that I just complained and whined until my son fell out. I didn't get to see him right away because when you have a preemie, they have an entire NICU team in the room waiting, and when the baby is born, they whisk them off to make sure all is well before the mommy gets a chance to see the little screaming bundle of ugly old man baby (except my babies were all beautiful.).

When they determined he was fine, just needing a little oxygen, they filled me in on all the stats. With as much as it hurt when he came out, I was sure he was at least a nine-pounder. I was in shock when they told me he weighed 3 pounds 15 ounces. WTH??? No really. But his head was E.Nor.Mous. Off to the NICU he went, and my nurses did the usual fussing over me. My midwife was great, and my husband was a champ!

When I finally got to go see Baby Boy Eldridge, I was amazed how tiny he was. I know all babies are sweet and little and cute, but BBE was minute. I was afraid to touch him for fear he would break. I had bought bags of sugar bigger than this baby, and I was somehow supposed to be able to keep him alive. I had an immediate internal panic attack at that thought.

For two days we made visits every few hours to the NICU, and then it was time to check out. I was all packed up and ready to go home to make plans when one of the NICU nurses came into my room and informed us that our bitsy little read-headed baby with the swirl up front was too cute and sweet to not have a name. They were all tired of calling him Baby Boy Eldridge. That's right. He had no name. We couldn't decide what to call him. We talked. We thought. We talked. Finally, Christian, our oldest son who was just shy of 4 years, said he had watched a cartoon and the boy in the cartoon was named Connor. He said it was a good name, and it started with "C", as did both of our other kids' names. And so the nurse went back to the NICU to make a name tag that said Connor William.

The one really great part of delivering Connor in Ft. Collins was that they own several blocks of houses on the street adjacent to the hospital. They use them specifically for families of long-term patients. My MIL, my kids, myself, and my husband, on his days off, got to spend the next 17 nights in a three bedroom house with all the things a house should have, and it only cost about a quarter of what two hotel rooms would have. Plus it was a two minute walk to the hospital.

By the time we were finally allowed to take him home, Connor weighed 4 pounds 10 ounces. I could only wonder if they were out of their freaking minds. Why the hell would they let me take a baby so tiny and fragile home?! Didn't they know I had a rambunctious pre-schooler and a toddler waiting to get their hands on him? They insisted that he was ours, and therefore we had to take him. And so, with six little rolled up receiving blankets to prop him in his giant of an infant car seat, a small oxygen tank, and the biggest pacifier on the planet, we went home.

One week later he was off the oxygen. A week after that he was circumcised. Another tip: Don't be in the room while your son is being circumcised. Holy crap. And wow. But mostly yikes. He was still so tiny that people would look into his car seat, see only blankets, and think we forgot to bring the baby. For the first little while I had to resort to buying him doll clothes because preemie clothes were entirely too big.

And now he's six. Today is his birthday, and I'm in awe of the funny, caring, lovable little character he's become. While I miss the so tiny super little red head with the pinwheel cowlick, I am so proud of my generous little white-blond monster with the pinwheel cowlick.

I'd like to lodge a complaint...

2010-05-12T00:06:00.000-06:00

I realized today, after an extremely emotionally exhausting Monday, that I complain some. Okay, okay. I complain a lot. About big things. About small things. About most things. I complain about people who complain. And about people who don't. And about their dogs. I spend my day listing all the bad things in my life (or your life, or his life) and a lot of times I completely miss the good things. The blessings. The love. Instead of smiling when one of my kids wants to sit on my lap, I get annoyed because the other three don't. Instead of being thankful for my husband's job that provides enough that I can stay home, I let myself feel overwhelmed by my "duties" as a homemaker. I'm getting a little tired of feeling like crap all. the. time. And I hate that it's me making me feel that way.

In the hopes of salvaging the rest of this week, I'm going to give you a list of just a few things that I really am thankful for. The things and people who make me smile on a daily basis. The things I want to focus on from here on out.

My family. The real family I have chosen for myself, from my husband on down to the friends I haven't met, but still love like family. The people who love me, accept me, and support me, even when I complain. You know who you are, so I won't name names.
My home. It may be a mess, but it's safe and warm and big enough for my family.
My kids. These guys deserve their own category. I can't imagine my life without the little munchkins all up in my face all day. It just wouldn't be right.
My new house. It's a new adventure, just waiting for us to climb aboard!
My God. Today is proof that I need the grace He offers, and don't deserve a thing. How can I only see bad when His plan is so good?

Most of all, tonight I am thankful that I will have tomorrow to try this all again. I can make better decisions. I will use softer words. My smile will appear more often than my frown. And if I don't, feel free to complain. :)

2010-05-05T01:13:00.001-06:00

Today holds some very good memories for me. It also brings a lot of heartbreak. Each year, I try to see the blessings in both. I'm sure that the more years pass, the more my memories are going to fade until the two events cancel each other out. For right now, one is still amazingly lovely, and the other a tangible test of my faith.

As a woman with 20 years behind me (barely), I was lost, confused, and living on my mother's couch (literally). I had dropped out of college, moved in with my mom, dated a few guys, learned some painful life lessons, and was sure my life was over. I lived in a very dark place internally, and honestly didn't think I would ever recover. So when this random guy I had talked to a few times asked me on a date, I thought little of it. After all, they were all the same, and not right for me. I agreed to go with him though. Why? Because his smile nearly melted me to my core.

When he picked me up that afternoon, I had no idea what I was in store for. I was more than a little surprised when he pulled in at the little local drive in restaurant, Ford's, so he could order me a cinnamon Coke, one of his favorite treats. While we were there, he took the T-tops off his car so we could soak in the wonderful May sunshine. (I didn't tell him that it bothered me to have my hair blowing around in my face until our second date. That's when I left a ponytail holder in his car so it wouldn't matter the next time.)

We drove along the river with our cinnamon Cokes, laughing, talking, realizing I really enjoyed his company. He took me to the fish hatchery. (Nothing says "romantic first date" like a zillion little fishy kiss lips.) We spent a lot of time at the park wandering and talking. My heart wasn't dark that day, and it felt good. I really hated to see it end. Nothing can go on forever, so eventually he drove me back to my mom's house, to my little couch, and I thought I'd be overtaken again. As it turned out, he didn't want the day to end either, so after we ate dinner with our own families, he picked me up again and we made the date epic. That's right. We went to see Titanic in the theater. I had seen it before, and Leonardo DiCaprio still died, but even that couldn't bring me down. I was happy. Happy was something I hadn't felt in months, and I liked it.

That first date was May 5th, 1998. PJ and I got married that December, and just celebrated our 11th anniversary. God knew exactly what He was doing when He got us together. I may have doubts about a lot of things, but my feelings for my husband aren't in that category.

Now, that's a nice story, and I'm sure you have a silly smile on your face, but our story turned around on May 5th, 2007. I knew it was coming because my midwife had confirmed it a week before. I still just wish it hadn't turned May 5th so bittersweet in my heart. Knowing that I had two babies inside me who hadn't grown, who didn't thrive, who wouldn't live nearly tore me apart. My body chose one of my happiest memory days to reject my precious babies. I miscarried, forever dulling the good memories just enough that I'm never sure if I should smile or cry when this day rolls around. Usually before the day is over, I do a little of both, and my heart is cleansed for tomorrow.

Does This Mortgage Make Me Look Fat?

2010-05-03T21:11:00.000-06:00

Today was the big day! My husband and I made an early morning trip to the title company, met with our realtor and banker, signed our name 864 times (approximately), and are now the proud new owners of a house! We delivered our first load of random belongings, rolled giddily in the plush carpet, and started making plans of where everything will go when we move it all over. I packed several more boxes, and I repacked the back of our Suburban after my husband went to work. Now we are all set to take another load and do some unpacking tomorrow. I am truly excited about this move, and can barely stand to wait for school to be out to finish.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #1!!!

2010-05-02T00:00:00.001-06:00

Well, we've made it to the last day! The last two weeks have been fun, but as they say, you ain't seen nothin' yet! Settle back, and away we go!

We have already established that I live in Montana. If you've never been here, it is very rustic, mountainous, rural, and the wild animals outnumber the people. Our apartment complex is called Hunter's Pointe. (The extra "e" makes it classy.) They are obviously playing to the adult male, strong, vital, woodsy, with the title. Out in front of the office stands a great beast, a life-sized, majestic bugling bull elk! He truly is a sight to behold. Here, I will provide photographic proof.

I can see why they chose him. He's strong, virile, he's the jock all of the cow elk want to mate with. Somehow that translates to a reason for people to want to live here. Since I'm not a man, I don't really get it, but it is a very nice piece of art.

Some of you look confused. You are wondering what the problem is because this is obviously not something I hate, so how did it manage to make it into the #1 spot on my list? Let me explain. The picture you are looking at is what you see as you drive into the parking lot. There are only three buildings to the left of this, but six buildings and a majority of the parking lot to the right. That means that most people who live in this apartment complex, and a majority of the visitors will approach the office from the right side of the entrance. When we go in and out of the office, we are greeted by this:

That's right. He is absolutely anatomically correct. He's not shy either. Rain, snow, sleet, hail. He always puts himself out there for all the world to see. While I'm sure the testosterone level in this place rises as men enter the parking lot, it truly isn't worth it for me to have to encounter dangling elk genitalia each time I pay my rent. Luckily, the bank that gave us the home loan settled for a huge pendulum clock, and my days of looking at this are few.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #2

2010-05-01T00:00:00.001-06:00

Tonight's topic is one near and dear to my heart. Well, not so much my heart as my last nerve. Parking in my one assigned parking space is about the fastest way to flip on my "B!+ch Switch". The only crime ahead of it is messing with my babies, so you can see what a serious offense it is. I look at it like this: If I'm going to pay over a thousand dollars a month to live in this hole, I am at least going to have the luxury of parking in my own spot. If you decide you can park there too, I WILL pull up behind you and block your exit. I WILL slap a Tow Away notice on your window. (What can I say? Management gave me extras. And good luck getting that bad boy off.) I WILL report your illegally parked car to the management WHILE I am parked behind you. And God forbid you run into me in person while any of these steps are going down. I don't care if it's your first day moving in, your last day moving out, your mom's birthday, or your annual celebration of abundance and joy...DO NOT PARK IN MY SPOT!

I warn because I care.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #3

2010-04-30T00:00:00.001-06:00

We started looking at houses just under two months ago. We knew we might be cutting it close because our lease here is up at the end of June. We didn't have much choice, really. We wanted to make the purchase coincide as closely as possible with the end of our lease because if we wanted to break the lease, we would have to magically *poof* $2250.00 into our bank account. You heard me right. It would cost us over two thousand dollars to break our lease. And if we got to the end of the lease, hadn't found a house, and wanted to go month-to-month, it would cost an extra $100.00 a month. Our money tree is a little fruitless right now, so we opted for the "time it just right" plan. We got lucky. Not everyone does. Their empty pockets are the proof.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #4

2010-04-29T17:09:00.001-06:00

I have four kids between the ages of two and ten. Each one of them is a little ball of energy and fire that needs to be released, preferably not inside. Luckily this apartment complex has a great playground in the middle. The only problem is this: There are so many kids who live here that never have ANY supervision that I can't let my kids go play at the playground unless I go along. (Let me clarify something. The 2 year old does not go anywhere without an adult.) When we first moved in, I would let the three big kids go over to play. I gave the oldest a watch, and they had to stay together, not talk to strangers, not go into any apartment but ours, and check in every 15 minutes. After a few complaints from my kids about bullies and foul language, I started going down there with them. I NEVER saw another parent at the playground. The kids were fighting, bullying, and two boys the same age as my oldest had the dirtiest vocabulary I have ever heard. They say things I would be mortified to hear my husband say, much less my nine year old son.

In short, I can't even allow my kids to play outside so I can get a little housework done. I have to go along with them and regulate behaviors so they can play in a fun, safe environment. I'm feared by most, and hated by all, but the kids know when I am there to be respectful because I know where they all live, and I'm not afraid to go talk to their parents. I look forward to having our own fenced in yard where our kids can play and run and not have to worry. Until then, I will stand up and be the b!+c# of the playground.

Gah!

2010-04-28T20:40:00.002-06:00

So, now that my blog is pretty, it won't let anyone comment. I am trying to figure it out, but I'm not a techy. I can cut and paste, but that's about it. If you can help me out, let me know. Either e-mail me at cassielovespj@hotmail.com or @cassie_d_ape on twitter. Until I get this resolved, thanks for your patience.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #5

2010-04-28T01:00:00.000-06:00

As you may know, I live in Montana. We joke about only having two seasons: winter and construction, which really isn't that far off. I have personally witnessed snow in all twelve months of the year. You would think that since winter lasts approximately nine months out of the year here, snow removal would be a big priority. Sadly, you would be wrong.

All around our parking lot there are little signs that say, "Drive with caution. Hazardous winter conditions may exist." No kidding? In Montana? This, of course, is a CYA tactic employed by the complex because they rarely plow the snow from our parking lot. That way, if you get in an accident due to snow or ice, they aren't liable, and can say, "Hey, we warned you." Last winter we had five inch ice ruts running through the entire lot. I measured. I was extremely thankful at the end of the day that I drive a gas guzzling, bad for the air, Earth-killing SUV. At least it was big enough to not get ripped apart by the ice. I'm looking forward to only having to cuss the city for the bad road conditions from here on out.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #6

2010-04-27T00:04:00.000-06:00

I don't know about you, but I love color. Vibrant, fluid, shining color. As a photography major in college, I dreaded the assignments in black and white because I knew that no matter what the photos showed, they would make me feel lonely. It was the absence of color. I have never met anyone who, when asked to name their favorite color, proudly proclaimed, "White!". So why is it that every apartment we have ever lived in has been ALL white?

White walls show everything. Every hand print. Every splash. Every "accidental" markering by the two year old. Then add in the white appliances, and the white blinds, and the white, white, whhiiiiiiiiiiitttttttteeeeeeeee... I compare it to being trapped in a Montana blizzard, only, eventually, the blizzard goes away. However, these white walls go on for.ev.er.

Would it kill the management to step back and try something bold? Eggshell maybe. Or ecru. Would tan be asking too much? Yes. Apparently it would. I am so thankful that the previous owners of our house saw the beauty in color and left it instead of painting everything white. Now if only they had left the lime green, crushed velvet, low rider sofa in the theater, we'd be in business!

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #7

2010-04-26T01:00:00.000-06:00

If you are a parent, you know that one of the worst possible noises you can hear at 2:00 am is your child projectile vomiting in his bed. However, you get up, clean up the kid, clean up the bed, throw all affected clothes and bedding in the washer, and you move on. Unless...you live in an apartment with quiet hours.

We are forbidden from doing anything noisy (loud music, showering, vacuuming, running washing machine or dishwasher, etc.) between 10 pm and 8 am. This wouldn't be a problem if nothing requiring cleanup happened between those hours. However, my husband is a restaurant manager who often spends ten hours a day in a hot kitchen. He'd like to be able to shower when he gets home, especially in the summer, but it's always after quiet hours have begun. And let's not even think about not being able to bathe the kid or wash the bedding from the example above. Can you imagine the smell by the time 8 am rolled around?? Exactly.

While I am grateful that some guidelines do exist, I think there needs to be a few exceptions. After all, the management probably doesn't want this place to smell like vomit any more than I do.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment living #8

2010-04-25T01:00:00.000-06:00

In yesterday's post, I talked about the cheap workmanship of these buildings. This is the reason for today's post about listening to our neighbors, whether we want to or not. There is very little to muffle the noise that comes from the surrounding apartments. I am sure my neighbors can hear us, because we can hear them. Constantly. Upstairs and down. The difference is, our kids are in bed by 8:30pm, whereas the next door neighbor will put her kids in bed at ten and immediately tromp up the stairs to visit the three male college students. Within a few minutes, her kids are standing at the door screaming for her. How do I know? We can hear EVERYTHING. Yes, that includes the last downstairs tenants who fought all the time. Yes, that includes people in the parking lot coming in drunk at 2am. Yes, sadly, that includes the extracurricular activities of the guys who live upstairs. We. Can. Hear. Everything.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #9

2010-04-24T14:28:00.000-06:00

At the beginning of every month, someone delivers a little apartment complex newsletter to our door. In fact, they put it directly into our apartment. It's a task easily performed without having to open the door. Whoever built these apartments was really thinking. To make newsletter delivery easy and save some money, they skipped the weatherstripping around the door! That's right. You can easily slip two pieces of paper folded in half through between the door and the frame. What a great idea. After all, it's not like we live in a state where extreme temperatures are the norm...

Also, with the first cold snap each fall, the caulking around all of the bedroom windows cracks away and exposes an open hole to the outside world. I hope the owners did something great with the money they saved in construction costs, like found a cure for AIDS, or cleaned up Africa's drinking water.

Along with our "Luxury living at affordable prices," we get the smallest, cheapest appliances on the market, the least expensive carpet available in bulk, and only one entrance/exit in the parking lot. I hope there is never a reason for everyone to evacuate at the same time because many of us would be stuck.

In short, if you are planning to build anything that you want to advertise as "luxury," cutting corners is not the way to get it done. People will not be happy paying high prices for shoddy workmanship. Trust me.

Medicinal Marijuana and My Mom's Stolen Car

2010-04-23T21:27:00.000-06:00

I know I have talked about some of the problems we are having with our medical bills lately, but here's a quick recap. All of the doctors and clinics here are affiliated with one of the two local hospitals. Therefore, all of the billing is done through one place. Sometime last year, the hospital we use started outsourcing its billing to another company. I really wouldn't care except that this year we have gotten seven bills at least four months, and up to seven months, after the date of service. We had to make a mad dash to spend over $2000 from our flex account last year on over the counter meds, etc. so we wouldn't lose it. Six out of those seven bills were incurred during the last plan year, which means we had to pay them out of pocket. They totalled almost $1000. Needless to say, I've been shopping around for a private practice, which apparently doesn't exist here. Anyway, on to my story of today.

I noticed a while back that a new walk-in place had opened not far from my apartment, but I never got a chance to drop in until today. When I walked into the reception area, I thought it was funny that instead of a waiting room, there were three round tables, each with six chairs, and a reception desk with a very perky 14 year old girl behind it. (I'm sure she was over 14, but I'd need to check her ID to prove it.) She very enthusiastically asked if she could help me, to which I responded, "I don't know. What do you do here?" "Oh, we are a medical marijuana distribution clinic." Huge smile. Great customer service. "A what?" "Medical marijuana. Do you need some help?"

I see now that this is where I should have just said no (duh) and walked out, but I hesitated, and a giggle formed in my throat. It was just long enough for her to engage me in conversation that, looking back, was ridiculous, and probably made me look like I wanted pot, but was too embarrassed to admit it. By the time I got out of there, I was shocked and a little shaken. It was definitely not how I was expecting to spend my afternoon.

I drove home, still a little flustered, parked my mom's car, and went up to apartment. Flash forward a few hours. We are running low on food (and dish soap, and bread, and mayo...), so I called in a to-go order at my husband's restaurant. When I went outside to pick it up, my mom's car was not parked in my spot. I stood there like a stooge, completely dumbfounded. They had towed my mom's car right out of my parking space! The more I thought it over, the less sense it made. They wouldn't tow it because she has my parking permit on her mirror. Oh God, please tell me it wasn't stolen!! How was I going to tell my mom that her car, her one paid off, decent possession, had been stolen right out from under us???

I staggered up the stairs, opened the door, and I must have looked like I was in shock because Mom asked if I was feeling OK. "Um, no. Did I park your car back in my spot?" "I don't know. I didn't look when you got home. Why?" "Well, I'm pretty sure I did, but it's gone." I figured I'd better go back out just to see if I was losing my mind. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I scanned through the cars in the lot. Wait. What? Is that? No. Couldn't be. Did I really do that? I slowly walked over to the car parked two spaces down from mine... Crap. I did. I had parked it in the wrong spot! I got in and started backing out just as my mom came down the stairs, spied my position, grinned and mouthed "oops!" in my direction. I'm not sure what happened, but I'm blaming it on a contact high from the medicinal marijuana clinic!!! (Do my clothes smell funny? I'm hungry!)

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #10

2010-04-23T16:45:00.000-06:00

As you enter our apartment complex, there is a big banner that hangs on building A stating "Luxury living at affordable prices." Every time I see it, I can't help but snort. I guess that depends on what you consider to be "luxury" and "affordable." The fact that there is a tiny peanut shaped pool doesn't make it luxury. Nor does the little putting green next to it, or the playground off to the west.

On the other hand, the fact that our rent is more than our mortgage payment, combined with a second, on our last house doesn't scream affordability to me. We pay over $1000 a month for 1300 square feet of living space. For six people. I know compared to third world countries this would be a mansion, and we should be happy to have a roof and all that, and we are, but for what we are paying, this place should offer amenities like free baby poop removal and a weekly massage... Now that's luxury!

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #11

2010-04-23T16:20:00.000-06:00

As a mother with four young children, I spend my day yelling cautions at the kids. Things like: "Don't touch the stove!" or "The wild bunnies don't like to be chased!" But the one thing that rings true around here is this: "Don't run out into the parking lot because people drive too fast and you'll get run over!" Our parking lot is a big loop, and people will drive through here like it's the Indy 500. If a kid, or even an adult was to step out from behind a vehicle, they could easily be run over at top speed. I can't wait to live on a quiet little street near the edge of the world where we can go outside and not immediately fear for our lives.

Eleven days and counting...

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #12

2010-04-21T18:04:00.000-06:00

At the conference I just went to, one of the speakers was talking about building up your strengths. He said that, when asked what their biggest strength is, a majority of people will say they are "a people person." I am here to tell you that I am not a people person. I'm good at dealing with people in a retail setting, and can be in social situations, but I really dislike being around people all the time. With that said, I am working on making more of an effort to build relationships.

About three weeks ago, we got new neighbors downstairs. Any time I go out and they are on their patio I make it a point to say hello. And every time I do, they look at me like I'm crazy and ignore me. Needless to say, I finally stopped. I will not miss having rude neighbors who live ten feet from me. In our house, if the neighbors don't want to say hello, I will be fine with it because we won't be sharing a dwelling. I will go inside, sit in my theater, or my jacuzzi tub, or on my deck and think about them, back in their box, angry about still living in an apartment.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #13

2010-04-20T01:00:00.000-06:00

Do you know what I miss the most? My books. Some people have a few books. Some even have several books. I, however, have a library. Before I had a brood, I was a bookstore manager, and I took FULL advantage of my employee discount. The downside of this is that we haven't lived anywhere in the last four years that was big enough to actually display my books. When we move into the new house, they will have been moved four times, but never unpacked. Apartments seem to have just enough space for the people and the essentials, and if you have anything extra (clothes, for example), you're SOL, as my mom would say.

Don't get me wrong. We do have a storage area (a closet) on our deck. It has just enough square footage to house my boxed-up library. That's why, if you look around inside, you'll see stuff stacked, crammed, hidden in any tiny available space. It probably wouldn't be an issue if we had enough cupboards. Or counter space. Or another closet. A garage maybe?

In celebration of finally being able to loose the library in the new house, I'm buying new shelves. Take that, apartment, and shove it in your tiny little storage closet!

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living #14

2010-04-19T14:20:00.000-06:00

Today I'd like to discuss with you the bane of my existence with four kids in the house. Of course I mean cheap carpeting. In every apartment I have ever lived in, there has been cheap carpet in a neutral color. Neutral translates to "everything you even think about dropping or spilling is going to leave an irremovable stain because this carpet is so light in color." I'm pretty sure this is how apartments make their money. After you've had the carpets cleaned, to no avail, they get to keep a large chunk of your security deposit.

When my oldest son was 2, we moved into a new, cozy, luxury apartment. I'm not exaggerating when I say it had white carpet. Not off-white. Not eggshell or tan. W.H.I.T.E. I don't know who's idea that was, but I hope they got fired because on the morning of the second day we lived there, my precious baby smashed an entire tube of shiny maroon lipstick into the carpet. Did I mention it was white? If he had been four inches to the right, it would have gone on the linoleum floor in the bathroom. But no. Cheap white carpet. It took almost an entire can of Spot Shot (which I love and fully endorse!), but the lipstick came out! That's right. All of the lipstick came out of the cheap white carpet. Sadly, the orange juice he spilled while I was cleaning up the lipstick did not... I was beaten by a cup of orange juice on day two.

What it comes down to now is that I know that no matter where we rent, they will be keeping part of my deposit for carpet damage. I suppose with four kids I will be lucky if they don't have to replace the entire 1300 square feet of carpet.

15 Reasons I Won't Miss Apartment Living: #15

2010-04-18T21:38:00.000-06:00

As most of you know, we are buying a house. With only 15 days until our closing date, I thought I would let you in on just a few of the reasons I am sooo excited about moving. (Because moving sucks, and I normally don't like it.)

Reason number 15 is this: We live on the 2nd floor, so our apartment is always warm. In case you didn't know, heat rises. The weather here the last few weeks has been surprisingly pleasant, so I have been opening the sliding door to let the nice, fresh air in. (The bedroom windows are too low to open for fear my kids would fall out.) The open door provides wonderful relief from the stifling air until the downstairs neighbors either a) go out on their patio directly below my open door to barbecue, or b) go out on their patio directly below my open door to smoke. In either case, the smoke wafts directly up and gets sucked into my living room. It's at this point that I have to choose between dying from smoke inhalation, or dying from heat stroke. Up to now I've chosen heat stroke, but who knows what tomorrow may bring.

A Tweet, Some Cigarettes, and a LOT of High Heels!

2010-04-10T23:25:00.000-06:00

I'm having trouble coming up with the words to tell you about the last two days. Looking back, it goes back even farther, so I guess I will start there. One day last week, Sheila Walsh and Mary Graham both tweeted about looking forward to their first stop on the 2010 Women of Faith tour in Billings, Montana. Now, who's ever heard of Billings, Montana?? Me. Because I live there. Last month I would have been excited because I planned on going. I had inadvertantly made two car payments in February and therefore didn't have one due until April, so I was going to use that extra money to buy my ticket for WoF. But then we found a house, and needed ernest money, and inspections, and all the rest that goes with buying a home, so I set the conference aside in my mind, and moved on to being excited about the house. But those tweets made me wish I could be there. Knowing I couldn't afford it, I tweeted back that I wanted to go, but didn't have the money. I also assured them that I would be praying for Sheila, Mary, and the 5000 women expected to attend. Within minutes, God showed me the hearts of two very giving women. I received a direct message, not only from Sheila Walsh, but another from Mary Graham asking if I would attend if they were to give me a ticket. I was overwhelmed at the thought that these ladies would make an offer to me, a complete stranger, just like that. So I took a minute to get myself in check and replied to both ladies that I would LOVE to go. Then they sweetened the deal by adding a second free ticket!

This deal excited me for roughly five seconds. That's how long it took for me to realize that I haven't formed any real friendships here. My family has disowned me. And now I had this amazing opportunity, but no one to share it with. I'm pretty sure this was God's first step in showing me the direction I need to start moving my life. I'm great on Twitter, or facebook, or MSN Messenger, but I am NOT a people person face-to-face. I long to be outgoing, but feel much more comfortable as a hermit. So, I did what I knew to do, and posted a new status on facebook. "I have an extra ticket to the Women of Faith event in Billings this weekend. Let me know if you'd like to join me." And then I waited. And waited. And with no response, I moved on to playing Mahjongg Dimensions to take my mind off the fact that I have no female friends.

Now, I'm a night owl. I tend to sleep between 2am and 7am. Aunt Ronda, however, isn't normally up as late, so it took me by surprise when she responded to my fb post in the wee hours of the morning. She said she had planned on going, but since she hasn't been working was afraid they couldn't afford it. When I assured her that the ticket was free and she could stay with us, she agreed to come. That's when God's plan started coming together for us. What I didn't know was that she had been in bed for a few hours when she suddenly woke up. She tried for over an hour to go back to sleep, but with no luck, she decided to check in on facebook. That's when she saw my staus update and responded. After talking to me that night, she went back to bed and immediately fell asleep.

You have to understand that God had plans to make serious strides in Ronda's confidence with this conference. The first challenge he put in front of her was driving the 229 miles from Butte to Billings. Ronda is terrified of driving alone, but God wanted her to be here, so he gave her the courage to get started and keep going, and and let her pass before sending white-out snowfall and extremely high winds in her wake. She arrived safely in Billings, and her self-esteem was boosted.

Friday morning, we made our way to the Metra, parked (a fair distance away), and headed in to pick up our tickets. The first snag was that no one had our tickets. One person had at least heard of me, and told the frazzled ticket lady to please give me "two good seats in a floor section." Boy, this lady did just that. When we found our seats, the were on the end of an aisle, on the floor, even with the Porch Pals chairs next to the stage! We were sitting six feet from the stage with a great view of all the ladies of Women of Faith! (You can bet I tweeted my little heart out through both days.) As we listened, we heard messages of trust, building up our individual gifts, love, loss, pain, hope, desperation, and God's countless blessings. It was an emotional rollercoaster, but we were more than happy for the ride.

This is how close we were to the ladies as we rocked out to Nicole C. Mullen!

This same day, Ronda was waiting to hear about a job she interviewed for, but halfway through the day, she leaned over and whispered to me, "I'm not going to get the job because God wants me to step out of my comfort zone and make real connections with people. In my home. I don't do that." She could feel through these messages that God was telling her He had bigger plans for her life than the job she wanted.

Saturday started out much the same. We stood in line for 30 minutes to get coffee, squealed over our wonderful seats, readied the tissues (cause it was a serious cryfest. Next year they should just call it CryFest 2011.), and opened ourselves to the wonders of God. It was during her first smoke break of the day that God whispered to Ronda that if she would give up smoking, she could afford to sponsor a World Vision child. He then led her to the table where the older kids, the ones about to be too old for sponsorship, were located, placed a picture in her hand that resembled a little boy she knew in real life, and said, "This is the life you will save by saving your own life." Without hesitation, she filled out the card and never looked back.

During the lunch break, I was sure she had lost it when she stood up quickly and needed to get past me. "I need to take my cigarettes to the World Vision table. I was going to finish the pack, but I can't. I need to start now." But God is funny. We never made it to the table. In fact, we only made it about four feet from our seats when God placed a World Vision worker directly in Ronda's path. She pulled out her pack and handed them to the startled worker while quickly explaining the significance to her. I'm not dramaticising at all when I tell you that tears welled up in that woman's eyes as she hugged Ronda and thanked her for being such a faithful servant.

Sheila Walsh was kind enough to have a picture with me!

While I was so proud of Ronda and all God was doing in her, I also felt a little disappointed. I really thought that the way the story went down meant that I was meant to be there so God could do something huge for me. I will admit it. My thoughts were selfish because when it comes to many facets of my life, I'm lost. I feel helpless, hopeless, and stunted. I didn't realize until Saturday's last session was almost over that God was working in me as well. But God knows me, and He knows that I would not have responded well if He'd acted in me as He did in Ronda. My tweaking was more subtle. It was in learning that I didn't have to keep trying to fix myself because God didn't accidentally make me who I am. In finding out I have gifts, but I need to nurture them instead of trying to grow new gifts that will benefit all the world. In the smiles, kindness, and hugs I received in person from Sheila Walsh and Mary Graham who were genuinely pleased that I could attend. God showed me the little cracks in my heart that I've tried over and again to cover with steel, that they are still there, and only He can fill them.

In short (ha!), our two days with the Women of Faith were miraculous, heartbreaking, healing, surreal (Did Sheila just say my name on stage? Yep. She sure did!), and potentially the most eye opening time of our lives, delivered on high heeled shoes and sparkled up by disco balls while surrounded by 5000 women in this little, unheard of town I call home.

These were the lights and disco balls over the WoF stage.

Baby Love Part 4

2010-02-23T00:10:00.000-07:00

I'm sure the title has confused you because nowhere on my blog can you find parts 1-3. Let me clear this up: they don't exist...yet. I'm starting with part 4 because my baby, my C4, is turning 2 today. I've decided it is time to write out her story.

I will admit that out three older kids were either total surprises, or very loosely planned pregnancies. This is not the case with Miss Caroline. In October of 2007, my husband and I decided we would try for one more baby. We wanted to be done with the giving birth to new babies part of our lives before we turned 30, and time was passing quickly. So, I set up an appointment with my midwife, had my IUC removed, and off we went... ;0)

This pregnancy didn't happen as quickly as our others, and two days before Christmas that year, our family was split up by life. PJ moved the kids and I back to Boise, but he still had to stay behind in Wyoming for almost two months to finish working. I don't know if you know this, but it's hard to get pregnant when separated by 700 miles.

When PJ finally arrived in Boise shortly after Valentine's Day, um, let's just say we put our plan into motion. On March 29th, we got our first positive test. Yea! Since our older kids had been born prematurely, I called right away to get an appointment with my midwife, but it wasn't set until my eighth week of pregnancy. Until then, I was hyper-sensitive to smells, nauseated, miserable. These were symptoms I hadn't experienced with my previous pregnancies.

Not long before our first visit to the midwife, PJ and I were talking, planning, deciding our baby's future when PJ realized he had just assumed all along it was twins. I panicked, of course, and called Katie. After all, she had twins. I knew she could tell me all about it. That phone call only confirmed that my severe symptoms could indeed be a sign of carrying twins...

The first visit went well, and I filled Georgianna (the midwife) in on PJ's suspicions, my crazy symptoms, and asked if there was any chance at a quick ultrasound. She figured we should know what we were getting into right away, and took us into the little ultrasound room. I will never forget the look on her face, the way she didn't turn the monitor toward me, the way she excused herself and came back with a doctor. After taking a look, they both left, and when she came back in, she described what looked like the beginning development of twins, but growth had stopped. She told us by the looks of it, she believed it may be a partial molar pregnancy. In other words, the babies weren't developing, and I would miscarry. I left her office in a state of shock. We had gone in with such joy, and came out devastated.

As it turned out, after six weeks of blood tests to make sure my hormone levels were dropping as I miscarried, Molar Pregnancy was ruled out. No one was sure what happened. As requested, we waited a few months for things to settle, regain some normalcy, and decided to try it one more time. Oddly, I felt a sense of peace through this whole time. I hurt. I cried. I wanted to lie down and give up. But underneath it all, I felt hope. It was like God was telling me our timing was bad, but He would make things right for us.

Once again, within a few months, we were pregnant. This time I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to get my hopes up. I went in with low expectations and expected the worst because I couldn't handle my heart being broken again so quickly. Again we set up our first appointment, and waited out the eight weeks. We didn't tell the kids. We just tried to keep to our daily lives as normal as possible.

That first visit went much more smoothly than the last. Georgianna did an ultrasound again, and this time our funny little gummy bear was dancing, and we could see the heart beating. It was overwhelming to say the least.

The next several months passed and all seemed to be going well. Since I had a habit of going into early labor, she did my glucose tolerance test a few week early, and lucky me, I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. I took a class, met with a nutritionist, changed my entire diet...

It only lasted a couple of weeks, because at exactly 34 weeks, I went into labor. I didn't realize it because I didn't have contractions like with the other kids. The only reason I even wondered was because I had started bleeding lightly. In the wee hours of the morning, PJ and I went over the hill to the hospital where I was checked, admitted, and was too far gone already to stop labor.

My first three children had been delivered completely unmedicated, and this time I decided to try a little something. Since they had already put an IV in, my midwife suggested Stadol. (I don't recommend it. It did nothing to ease the pain, and really made me feel loopy and disconnected.) Just as my contractions were getting more intense, a nurse came into my room and told my midwife that the woman across the hall was about to deliver, and her doctor hadn't arrived yet. Georgianna ran over, and that's when I had the sudden need to push. The nurse panicked because Georgianna was delivering the other baby, and she kept telling me not to push. (If you've never had a baby before, please understand that when you need to push, your body does it on its own. There really isn't a way to not push at that point.)

Georgianna just made it back in time for the last couple of pushes, and than little Caroline Grace made her entrance into the world. At six weeks early, she weighed 6lbs, 7oz and was 19 inches long. Because she was a preemie, we had a whole NICU team standing by and they gave her a good once over. She was breathing on her own and doing fine, so they let my husband carry her up to the NICU.

The next two weeks were spent going back and forth over the hill to the hospital and then home. With feedings every three hours, and three kids at home who wanted attention, life was exhausting. It was RSV season, so the kids weren't even allowed into the hospital to see our new bundle. They had to just see the pictures we took on our visits. Finally, on her two week birthday, Caroline came home.

A lot has happened since then, but she is still our baby, our tiny princess. Today she turns two, and I can't help but look back and remember those miserable first months when all she did was cry, and when she met her grandparents for the first time because that was the first time she laughed, and her first steps, her first birthday, and so many other milestones. But at the same time, I'm looking ahead. I can't wait to hear her say, "I love you." She will learn to ride a bike, and jump rope, and sing her ABC's, but she will always be my baby.

Pampered Pretty Sundays

2010-01-10T19:28:00.000-07:00

I've noticed this girly thing doesn't take long to unravel. My nail polish chips, my skin gets dry, my attitude goes downhill. Instead of trying to remedy this on a daily basis while chasing four kids and keeping up with housework that never ends, I decided that I would take one night a week that the kids are in bed early, my husband isn't home, and my mom is working and pamper myself a little. That's why Sunday nights have become Pampered pretty Sundays.

If all goes according to plan, I will have big kids in bed by 8:30 and the baby shortly thereafter, and then I can grab a book, relax in the tub, use the sugar scrub, shave the legs, use my new stress relieving bath salts. That will have me all set to grate and sandpaper my feet, apply lotion, repaint nails, etc. I think once a week will be much more manageable to me than trying to fit something into every day when it comes up. Besides, what says day of rest better than a good book, a hot bath, and some time alone?

A Challenge

2010-01-06T21:11:00.000-07:00

I swore to myself that I wouldn't focus on my actual weight/weight loss this year because I am so afraid of failure in this area. However, my good friend, Tye, approached me with a challenge, a Biggest Loser of sorts, that he and some of his friends are running over the next six months. I know I need to get the weight off, so I agreed to play along with them. I don't like losing, so I suppose I should get serious, tomorrow. Anywhooo, I added a ticker at the bottom of this blog to keep track of my weight loss. I will try to update it each Wednesday when I weigh in for the challenge, and I hope to see my little flower inching forward soon. Also, I think this is a good opportunity to start training for the Komen Tri for the Cure this summer in Denver. I was supposed to participate last summer, but never managed to talk myself into training... Yeah. So feel free to check in here, catch me on twitter (@cassie_d_ape), or friend me on facebook. Let the games begin!

A Revision of Resolutions?

2010-01-03T23:59:00.000-07:00

I know we are only three days into the new year, but I have put a lot of thought into the New Year's Resolution I made. You know, the get girly one. Since I made it and went public with it, I've started to wonder if it is just silly. Should I be working on more important things instead? Is this a selfish act and not a resolution at all? I can think of so many other things I need to work on. Maybe I should have chosen being a better housewife. My domestic skills leave a lot to be desired, and that would bless my whole family. Maybe I should be watching less TV, or spending an hour a day in the gym. Volunteering at the animal shelter? Or in my kids' classrooms? Did I make the right choice? Should I stick with this, or choose something more life-altering? I wanna know what you think.

Super Soft Pigs and Fingernails: Take 2

2010-01-03T23:39:00.000-07:00

As you know, I'm working on softening myself up, being a little more feminine, feeling more like a woman. My first step was growing out and painting my nails. While the growing part went fine, the fingernail painting was a disaster that made me want to quit the whole woman thing and eat a burrito. I have decided that I will keep going, knowing that this is an area I need to really work on, and will run with just a clear nail strengthener right now in the hopes of keeping my nails and my sanity. I will be keeping the Iced Merlot on my toenails though, as they turned out nicely.

Today's task was to make my feet softer and more girly, and I have to ask a question here. Do people really go through all of this? I bought this lovely little tool, the Dr. Scholl's For Her Smooth My Sole micro file. (Fun fact: You can use your medical flexible spending/cafeteria account to buy this product.) Who knew that it was going to be a small cheese grater and a piece of sandpaper cutesied up in pink???

First you are supposed to grate the dry skin off your feet, and then sandpaper them to a shiny gloss. This seemed wrong to me, but it's a new year, so I tried it anyway. What do you know? The thing works! After grating, sanding, and glossing I added a layer of ultra smoothing lotion and a pair of fuzzy socks. Now, I hate lotion being on me, but again, new year, girly me, gonna try it.

In retrospect, I probably should have done the soft feet step first, and then the nail polishing, but I didn't and the polish survived. It's a case of living and learning, and the next time I will know how a real lady would do it.

Day 1: Painting the Nails

2010-01-02T00:13:00.000-07:00

I counted Friday's task as a success for about twenty minutes. I got all of my finger and toenails polished, and they looked great. Then I went in to shower, and on the way out, I noticed that both of my thumbnails had chipped already. And this is why I don't usually put in the effort. It seems to me that if I am going to take the time to shape, strengthen, and polish two coats, it should be able to withstand the force of the shower! However, this is the year of girly, so I am going to patch it up, stop my whining, and move on.

Saturday's task: Softer feet. (Have I mentioned my serious dislike of lotions?)

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2009-12-30T22:53:00.000-07:00

I hate to admit tonight that I am sore from playing on the Wii Fit today. My arms, shoulders, neck, back, hips, abs, gluts, thighs, calves, ankles, the tops of my feet, and pretty much every other muscle in between. They are all sore. From playing games. I'm out of shape. I know I have covered this before, but with tomorrow being the last day of 2009, and me barely being able to lift my coffee mug, I decided it's time to rethink the way I live my life. I mean it for real this time. I have to do something because when I stepped onto the Wii Fit balance board today, it cried.

I can't even count the number of years that I resolved to get in shape and lose weight and do better and blah blah crap that never happened. This year my resolution is a little different. I'm not putting a number on it, because that defeats me from the start. I'm not going at it cold turkey. I am going to tell you the underlying cause to my decision though. Here it is. My end of 2009 confession: I am a tomboy. I wear jeans and my husband's old t-shirts. I carry everything I need in my back pocket. I don't wear make-up or spend an hour on my hair. I didn't even own a hair dryer until a few months ago, and it is mostly used to defog the bathroom mirror. All this brings me to my goal for 2010: To be more feminine.

What does being more feminine entail for me? The opposite of most of the things I just listed about myself. I will put more effort into my clothes, my hair, my skin, my nails. I will carry a purse, and wear a nice coat. I will do my best to take better care of myself by getting more sleep, eating smaller portions, and doing some exercise I enjoy.

Why this, you ask? I have jeans I don't fit into, a sexy dress I'd like to wear, health issues I want to avoid. I want people to ask my husband how he ever managed to land a hottie like me. I want folks to be in shock when they find out I have four kids because I am so fit instead of because I look so young. I want to be able to buy myself fun clothes that fit my personality instead of having to dress like a frumpy old school teacher. I want to actually be able to compete in the Komen Tri for the Cure in Denver this summer. I am still hanging on to that little red nightie from before I had kids...That's why!

I'm not giving up anything completely, but I have cut way back on soda. I long ago switched to Splenda. I bought two pairs of high heels. (EEK!!!) I own a great jogging stroller that I've never used. If you see me in my scrubby clothes, cut me some slack. If you hear me talking about pumpkin muffins, ask if you can have one too. Don't expect miracles from me. Just watch me transform. It will happen, and I'm glad to have you around to see it.

A Love Note to My Husband

2009-12-22T23:54:00.000-07:00

You know, everyone said it would never work out. We were too young, hadn't known each other long enough, I came from a family full of divorces. The cards were stacked against us. I will admit that there have been times when I wondered if "they" were right. There have been days that I wasn't sure we had what it took to make it. Who knew being in love was such hard work? When I look back over the last eleven years, so many things stand out. We've been through so much, but we've come so far. Every time I look at you, I am amazed that you chose me. How did I ever get so lucky? What did I ever do to make me worthy of having the love of someone so warm and selfless, loving and goofy, fun and hardworking? I couldn't ask for more than what we have, and I would gladly live with less just to know you are happy. Just knowing that you are coming home to me is enough to keep me moving through the day. Curling up with you at night makes being apart more bearable. And to watch you being a daddy to our babies is such a blessing to my heart. Knowing that they have what I didn't makes me so proud to be your wife. Now, here I sit, an hour from our anniversary, twitterpated and overjoyed. Just know that there is nothing in this life that I want with me more than you.

My, How Times Change. Sort of.

2009-12-13T22:43:00.000-07:00

I can remember when I was a little girl how my grandma reacted when the Christmas cards started rolling in. She came from the old school, "back when people were classy," she used to say. That meant that if you were going to send her a Christmas card, you had better take the time to write a personal message to her in that card. Don't even think about sending a generic Christmas letter, typed up without much thought and copied off until the printer ran out of ink. She wanted a piece of you all to herself. She told me to never turn into one of those lazy housewives who wouldn't even take the time to jot a few sentences to the people who were most important. I actually chuckled out loud the first year I sent out a Christmas letter. I folded hers, stuffed it into the envelope, and wrote on the outside, "Yours is the original. Everyone else got copies." I'm sure she was mortified.

Now, my mother is horrified because I told her I didn't want to waste paper, envelopes, and stamps sending out my Christmas letter. I thought she would die when I told her I was seriously considering just sending it out in a mass e-mail. "That's just trashy." I had actually been joking, but with Christmas less than two weeks away, I haven't bought cards or pretty paper, we haven't taken a family picture, and the trashy, mass e-mail option is looking extraordinary. I will continue to contemplate the pros and cons as I read my grandma's Christmas letter...

The Weather Outside is...WTH???

2009-12-13T22:30:00.000-07:00

Before you even say it, yes, I know I live in Montana and the weather changes from minute to minute. But seriously? The low for tonight is -9 with a high of 3 degrees for tomorrow. That in itself isn't uncommon, but the high for the next day is 32 degrees. Even better, it's supposed to be in the low to mid-forties the rest of the week! I wish that global warming would just take over, make it tropical, and we could all live tanned and happily ever after!

And I said, "No."

2009-12-08T23:50:00.000-07:00

It snuck up on me this year. I have been so busy with kids and home, Thanksgiving, birthday, Christmas, and anniversary shopping. Laundry, floors, blah, blah, blah. In short, life, which is a little ironic since this post is about death. I call it the December 10th Family Curse. I'm sure it's not actually a curse, but I don't know how else to explain it.

Thirty-three years ago, my mother was 9 weeks pregnant with her third baby. I wasn't around then so I don't know the exact circumstances, but she miscarried that baby on December 10, 1976. The doctor told her she should try to get pregnant again right away so she wouldn't feel such a sense of loss. My father told her to stop crying about it. After all, it wasn't even a real baby yet. Sixteen months later she had me, but the fact that I know this story proves that getting pregnant again right away did little to erase the pain and memory of the baby who didn't make it.

Thirteen years ago, my brother and his girlfriend were expecting a baby. It was an "accident" that no one was really very excited about. It's funny how feelings change with circumstances because on December 10, 1996, she miscarried as well. That day she entered into the same club as my mother. The one where everyone knows this terrible thing has happened, but no one talks about it. Her heart broke silently as the world went on, and life screamed by.

You might chalk this up to coincidence, but it is more than that. On December 10, 1997, I went in for emergency gall bladder surgery. The nurses asked me all the right questions, but with my mom in the room, I lied. I had heard all my life about my mom's first baby, my brother, being born when she was 19, unmarried, and alone. She always hoped I would learn from her mistakes, that I would make a better life for myself. On December 10, 1997, at 19, unmarried, and alone, I underwent gall bladder surgery, and miscarried my baby that no one knew about but me.

Long after the scars from surgery were healed, the pain from the baby I never saw throbbed. The guilt of the one word lie nearly overtook me. Wasn't this what I wanted? An easy solution to a very hard situation? If I had said "yes" would things have turned out differently? Would that have been better? Life went on, and so did I, but I never stopped thinking, and wondering, and questioning. Would it have had my hair? Its daddy's big brown eyes? The Ridenour nose? It's not the raw, shocking pain it used to be, but there is a tiny corner of my heart tucked away for this little person I never got to know. On December 10th, I let myself grieve a little, for that's the day that changed my life forever.

Thankful Thursday and a Happy New Year

2009-12-03T22:24:00.000-07:00

You know, I'm sure I do more than my fair share of complaining. About family. About life. About people complaining. I came to a realization today...I have it really good. I have an amazing husband who supports me in everything, whether he should or not. My kids bless me daily, even when I am complaining about them. We have a home and cars and food. I got an email from a friend today that put it all into perspective for me.

The email was short, and just asked about our Thanksgiving, and told about hers. She said how blessed she felt, and happy to be surrounded by people who loved and accepted her, as is. This email came from a friend who is in prison. She has been there close to four years for aiding in a bank robbery. She had to give up custody of her daughter to her parents. She was trying to escape an abusive marriage. And yet, she feels blessed.

This friend is being released next week. She is scared and excited and apprehensive all at once. She will be coming back to Wyoming so she can be near her parents and daughter. I really just hope that she finds the same acceptance there as she did in prison. Will she be able to find work? A place to live? Will the friends who shunned her while she was "away" take her back in now that she's home? I've never been in the circumstances that led her to where she is today, but I would like to think I could learn from her example of being grateful for what I have and who I am.

My Healthy (and not so much) List

2009-12-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

This weight loss thing is no easy task. I knew it wouldn't be, but secretly hoped that it would. I thought that maybe saying it out loud would make me more likely to stay focused and pursue my goals. What I have come to realize is that I am setting the wrong kinds of goals, becoming overwhelmed, feeling defeated, and not following through. I keep looking at the big picture instead of taking baby steps to get me on the path to a healthy body weight. I am going to change my perspective, stop focusing on the 95 pounds I need to lose, and start making progress in small ways.

With this in mind, I've been reminding myself of the good changes I have already made. I will share them with you too, so feel free to feed them back to me if you hear me sounding negative and defeated.

*I stopped eating white breads two years ago when I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes.
*I have only had two sodas since October 1st.
*I only drink 1% milk.

I am also very aware of some of the things I am doing wrong, need to change, and should never have started. For instance, I knew it was a bad choice to eat an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream last week, but I still bought it, took it home, and ate the whole thing. Sadly, I enjoyed it, and would probably do it again. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Here we go...

*I'm addicted to ice cream.
*I really don't enjoy drinking water.
*I strongly dislike exercising.
*I have no portion control.
*I don't get enough sleep.
*Since I am awake late at night, I eat late at night.

I suppose I could go on forever, but, for the sake of my sanity, I won't. Instead I am going to focus on some of those small goals I mentioned, like being able to run a mile. I would love to look in my closet and not be overcome by disappointment because nothing fits comfortably. I want to have the energy to play with my kids, and use the jogging stroller I bought, and buy a swimsuit without crying. If I can manage those things, tackling those 95 pounds can't be far behind.

Sweater Central

2009-11-24T23:02:00.000-07:00

So, I found a great baby sweater pattern, and I've since fallen in love with it. It's the first clothing (besides hats) I've ever crocheted, and it turned out to be a great pattern to start with. The problem is, now I have a couple of little sweaters sitting in my livingroom that I need to find homes for. First, let me show you one that is already being loved on. It was the first one I made.

Next is the one I call the Watermelon sweater. You can see it in an earlier post, but I will put it in again so you don't have to go hunting. This one is about a 6-9 month size, lime green with hot pink edging and flower, and it zips up the back (they all do so far) so your baby can't wiggle out and escape.

The most recent addition is this one. It is a rose color with a slightly darker scallop edge around the hood, cuffs, and bottom. It's about a 24 month size. I am asking $30 for each of these, and that includes shipping in the continental US.

This one is my favorite. I made it for my friend's baby. She just got it today, so I don't have any pictures of him in it yet. I will be sure to post when I do. I used a much more expensive yarn on this one, and it is a lot thicker than the others I posted. It would cost $50 for me to make another with this same yarn, but it turned out beautiful! It's going to be great for our uber-cold Montana winters!

It's all Relative

2009-11-22T22:02:00.000-07:00

With the holiday season right on top of me, it's hard for me not to think about my family. My screwed up, dysfunctional, absent family. I have wrestled my whole life with trying to figure out where I fit in. It's a long story, and you probably wouldn't believe it if I told you, so I will do my best to just give you a quick outline. My dad was married and had five kids (one outside his marriage), and my mom was married and had two, both with different fathers, and in 1973, they married each other. I was born in 1978, the youngest by eight years. My dad was significantly older than my mother, so I have siblings old enough to be my parents...Anyway... My parents were divorced when I was five, and my mom remarried instantly. A few years later, my dad remarried his first wife. And it all rolls downhill from there.

Most of my siblings were either adults, or close to it by the time I was born, so I have had very little contact with them. In fact, I have several nieces and nephews that are near my age that I would be more likely to connect with, or so you would think. My step-mother has always treated me like I was an unwanted interruption in her life, so we have never had a relationship worth talking about. I had one sister who used to have me come stay with her from time to time, and I thought that was a bond I could count on. In the last year I have come to realize that there is a big difference between "family" and "relatives."

Last June my husband and I moved our family to Billings, following his job one more time. It was close to family, his and mine, and we thought it would be a good move. As an adult, I wanted to reach out to my brother, two sisters, and numerous nieces and nephews who live here in town. For once I wanted to feel like I had a place in this family. I felt the need to get to know them, to have a reason to love them, to finally have a connection. It became much harder for me to want after my dad died four years ago, but I decided to give it a try.

Last year we spent Thanksgiving and Christmas at my sister's house. My kids loved her family, and especially playing with the dogs. We went trick-or-treating there, and hunted Easter eggs there. They bought Boy Scout popcorn from my son, magazines and Girl Scout cookies from my daughter, and stayed at my house one night when I had to take my infant to the ER. And on Memorial Day, I posted a status update on Facebook about missing my dad and not even having a grave to visit (he was cremated), and two of my nieces twisted it around and fed it to my step-mother. It got completely out of hand to the point that I had to call her and fight to explain myself, to justify why I had the right to my feelings. And that was the end.

After that incident, I was asked to not have any contact with them anymore. My kids ask me several times a week if they can go to Auntie's house. How am I supposed to explain to them that Auntie doesn't want to be our family anymore? That the cousins they had grown to love threw that popcorn, those cookies, and other "favors" they had done back in my face and broken my heart? Just this afternoon my almost seven year old daughter asked if we were going back for Thanksgiving next week. What should I say to her?

I guess what it comes down to is this: I will have to explain to my children the difference between family and relatives. You don't have to be related to someone to love and be loved by them. Your relatives don't have to love you just because they should. Blood isn't always thicker than water, as the saying would have us believe. Sometimes friendship is more than that, and a last name in common is merely a coincidence.

It's taken a heartbreak, but now I know who my family is.

The Watermelon Sweater

2009-11-18T23:28:00.000-07:00

I'm sure everyone on Twitter is sick of hearing about my dang sweaters, so I will post it here and give them a rest...for now. I just finished this sweater. It is probably a 6-9 month size, lime green with hot pink trim and flower, hooded, and zips up the back (so your baby can't escape!). I am selling it for $30, which includes shipping. If you are interested, let me know.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner...sort of.

2009-11-17T10:26:00.000-07:00

Hey! Check out this guy's blog! He'll make you laugh, cry, and really think. Plus, sometimes he gives things away!!! http://jesusneedsnewpr.blogspot.com/

Days Like This

2009-11-16T23:55:00.000-07:00

The song tells us how "Mama said there'd be days like this" but it doesn't tell us Mama will be the one to set the course of the day. There are a number of good points to living less than two miles from my mother. On the other hand, we live less than two miles from my mother.

For the first nine years of our marriage we lived over 600 miles from all of our family. Finally, just before our fourth baby was born early in 2008, I convinced my mom that she needed a change. I was a little shocked when she agreed, packed her stuff, and moved into the same apartment complex as us. It was great having her there to watch the three older kids so I could care for our extremely over-sensitive, usually screaming newborn. When my husband was transferred back to small-town Montana four months later, we brought her back with us.

Don't get me wrong, it definitely has its perks, but mornings like today make me wonder if it's worth it. I've found that our differences in personality, homemaking, and child rearing make it a lot more difficult to see each other on a daily basis. She's lived a tough life, become a lot more irritable and impatient, and always seems to expect the worst, no matter what the situation.

I did manage to escape the mom induced funk by hitting the mall with some of my favorite girls this afternoon. Mom called to apologize, and I'm feeling better, so I guess even with days like today, it's totally worth it.

My "Phantom" #fail

2009-11-15T01:49:00.000-07:00

I read a book several years ago by Dennis and Barbara Rainey called "Building Your Mate's Self Esteem." One of the first chapters is all about overcoming your "phantom", the image you have of yourself, the unreal expectations you set for yourself, your unreachable goals. In reading this chapter I realized that my own phantom was waaaay out of control, or more precisely, in control of my life. Though I am aware of this issue, I still have days when my phantom comes out to haunt me. Today was one of those days.

From the moment I woke up this morning, everything felt off. I had a headache, which is never an indication of an easy day. My kids had been awake for over an hour and had completely demolished the living and dining rooms, both of which had been clean the night before. By 9:00 am, the phantom had taken hold, mentally preparing my overwhelming list of achievements for the day. Before I knew it, I was behind. By noon, I was feeling so overwhelmed that I sat down to crochet, knowing I could never get caught up again. And when my husband left for work shortly thereafter, I burst into tears at the failure I had become. In my mind I kept playing out my failures as a parent, as a wife, and especially as a homemaker. I'm pretty sure that's when I took a fork to the birthday cake in the kitchen. Add healthy lifestyle to the list of casualties in my day.

Now I know that I can't possibly be a failure at everything, but days like today really make me wonder. I did finally get the kids to do there chores, after much prodding and annoyance. I did cross a few things off the list myself. I realize now, though, that my phantom did its best to make me doubt myself and my abilities. With a clear head, and a dirty kitchen, I will drift off to sleep tonight knowing that it will all still be there tomorrow so I can try again.

Well, it's only the first day, right?

2009-11-12T21:47:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it. My calorie intake for today was about 900,000. Yesterday was my mom's birthday, so we had pizza for dinner followed by the richest chocolate cake I've ever placed on my tongue. I had to throw about half of the frosting away, no lie. Not to mention the peach turnover I had for breakfast. I'm convinced that because peaches are fruit that it really doesn't count though. I've still managed to beat the soda temptation, so I'm calling it progress and moving on.

In other news, I started a new crochet project tonight. No, I'm not done with the green sweater yet, but this is an easy scarf, so I'm going to hurry up and finish it, then go back to the sweater. I also got a great deal on some Vanna's Choice yarn today. Now I just need to get to work and finish some things so I can send them off to my friend to add to her table at the annual Church Christmas Bazaar. I also have another scarf order in, but am having a hard time finding just the right yarn to make it. Yet another joy of living in Buffalo Chip, Montana. (That isn't the town's actual name. It just expresses my feelings toward this place.) Maybe next year when I say I am going to work on projects all year so I will have an inventory built up by December, I will actually do it. (Please do not start holding your breath.)

I guess all I can say now is that tomorrow is another day, and I will try to make the best of it. For tonight, I'll just be me.

Goal #1

2009-11-11T23:36:00.001-07:00

My first weightloss goal is going to drop out of the 200's. I'm not telling you my current weight (and it's rude to ask, FYI), but I would like to see 199 by the end of January. I know it's reachable, but this time I'm not going to beat myself down if I don't make it. I will do my best every day, and that's all I can ask of myself. Here are some helpful steps I need to take:

Stop drinking soda (I actually did this about a month ago. I miss you, Mountain Dew...)
Start drinking water. Lots of water. Entire lakes of water. (I hate water.)
Get in some exercise, no matter what it is. (I'm not entirely fond of you either, Leslie Sansone.)
Eat healthier, or at least eat less. Portion size is my downfall.

So that's where I will start. I'm pretty sure I will need your help, so keep me accountable. Ask me how I'm doing. Just don't ask me what I weigh...yet.

Goodbye Fatty!

2009-11-11T22:59:00.002-07:00

In this world of do more, spend more, play more, moremoremore, I have chosen "eat more" as my personal anthem. I've never met a hunk of sugar I didn't like, and even if I had, I would try it twice...just to be sure. I've gained weight...and gained weight...and gained more weight. I have plenty of viable excuses for the weight gain, but I'm to the point that even I don't believe most of them. I still tell people that it's because my husband is an amazing cook, or because he manages a great steakhouse, and of course it's because I've had four babies. Still, when I realize that the "baby" is almost two, and I don't even eat at the restaurant all that often, I know that there is something else. There has to be some underlying issue that is keeping me this way. I've come to the conclusion that there are several. Let's take a dip in Lake Me...

First and foremost, my biological family is made up of drunks and crazies. I won't go into detail. Just know that they aren't going to be on the cover of Family Fun magazine any time soon. (Though keep an eye on the Springer show. It's really only a matter of time.) I've spent my life trying to fit in and find my place. I've come to the realization that my place isn't in this family.

On the other hand, maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm too lazy to do anything about my weight. I pay for a gym membership that I never use. I live in an apartment complex with a gym on site that I walk past occasionally. I don't even know how many exercise DVD's I own.

I like to blame it on life in general. I just don't have time with the hours my husband works (though his shift normally starts at 2pm), and with so many kids in the house (well, three are in school all day, but that's not the point), and I'm so tired by the end of the day (because I stay up all hours of the night waiting for previously mentioned husband to arrive home from work). Let's not forget to take into account the physical fitness (mostly a lack thereof) of my parents. Both diabetic, morbidly obese, and outwardly unhappy with their lives, and my father died with so many other health issues that I would have to start another blog just to name them all. It's a metabolic legacy I'd like to do without.

At any rate, I've decided that I'm done. I'm tired of being the fat girl. I will do what it takes this time to make it to my goals, to be happy, healthy, fit, and in control of my life and mental state. And so I shout it from the rooftop (or maybe from my second floor window) "Goodbye Fatty! Hit the road, and take these frumpy, old lady clothes with you!"