Funny Stuff my Toddler Says – 1

My daughter is¬†hilarious, and after hearing all the negativity over elections the past few weeks, I decided I’m going to take the time to randomly blog some of the funny stuff she says to lift the negative spirits. ENJOY ūüôā

Bubba’s my brother, I love him. AJ, (also her brother) is a pretty nice guy too, he likes to play and read books with me.

Me: Honey I think you lost your marbles, you’re acting crazy! – No mom, Bella took them home with her today.

I dream a lot mommy. It’s always about Ninja Turtles.

Mom, come look at this (points to a small scab from a bug bite) I think I have a boob growing on my leg!

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Keeping up with the “B’s” – Halloween

Mr. and Mrs. B are the king and queen of decorating for the Holiday’s. In fact, I think Mr. B might have a slight addiction to decorating that he may need therapy for to break (just kidding Mr. B…or not!).

Let me explain. I am a¬†minimalist¬†when it comes to¬†decorating. I am¬†perfectly¬†happy with a couple fun little do-dads to put up outside. Mr. B and Mrs. B are professionals! They will get up at 4:30 am the day after a holiday to go buy decorations at 75% off. Now I’m not dogging that at all, kudos for their dedication to decorations! HOWEVER, I am not a morning person, nor do I like to deal with crowds (anxiety kicks in like a stealth ninja). So the thought of decoration shopping for the best deal at the crack of dawn does not really appeal to me.

My fancy decorations…there is a spider around my orange light, and Mr. Bones my grim reaper guy hangs in the middle of the front of my house.

Halloween has become bigger than Christmas as far as¬†decorating¬†goes. Mr. B started the last week of September putting up all his fun little blow-ups, (I think he said he had 12 of them. Yes you read that correctly, 12), strings of lights, even accent lighting for his blow-ups. This all looks quite amazing, and we have had drive by traffic on our block to check out the display. Their house was the hit of the neighborhood last night. Kids from near and far came to look and the “cool” house with all the lights. Hubby put up our little bit of decorations about the first week of October, this does include one blow-up for our yard. The entire time hubby was putting our stuff up he kept referencing: “well it’s a start, it’s better than nothing, it’s not like theirs but maybe we can add just a few things this year”.

Based on the monumental amount of decoration Mr. and¬†Mrs. B have put up, I’m going to have to say there is no way hubby will EVER be able to compete on the Halloween decorations…unless of course he wants to get up, before day break, in the next few days and go mark down crazy shopping. If that’s the case I will stay home, wrapped up cozy in my warm bed, pat him on the back for his dedication to keep up with the B’s, and send him off to shop till his hearts content.

Mr.B’s Front Yard

Close up of the accent lighting

Headless horseman

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A Phone Call – Makes the Wound Fresh Again

It didn’t help that I had not slept well. My back was one big¬†spasm¬†all night, making it impossible to find a comfortable spot to sleep. I have bags¬†beneath¬†my eyes large enough to smuggle small children in.

Coffee. My dear husband brought me coffee before he left for work. I was grateful for that small cup of warm energy.

On my way to work I zoned out listening to the news of Sandy and her temper tantrum towards the East. My phone rang, BLOCKED, on the caller ID. I – do – not answer blocked or unavailable calls. I think that if someone wants to speak to me they best be ready to show who they are and not hide behind a blocking app. I silenced the phone and continued my drive.

A chime that a¬†voice mail¬†was left….really….that never happens from a blocked call. My interest is peaked.

I play the message and my heart drops slightly. The message is from an Officer G at the Police Department, he calls me by my previous name. My heart drops more. He says he is sorry to bother me but he has to ask me a few questions about a file he has from a few years back. My heart stops beating for a moment. My hands begin to shake slightly. My heart now starts beating in rapid anxiety.

I take a deep breath and return the call.

Me: Hello Officer G this is Mrs. H formally known as Mrs. Y

Office G : Hello Mrs. H I am so sorry to bother you. I’ve been assigned to clear out old case files that involved weapons. It seems as though we have some questions regarding a case you are linked with.¬†

Me: (holy shit….this cannot really be about that….) Ok sir what can I help you with?

Officer G: Well ma’am, I’m really sorry to have to ask you this but I need to know who the weapon was registered to.¬†

Me: Well, honestly I’m not sure. He had it since I had married him. So I’m assuming it was his. I don’t know, it could have been his dads but it had always been at our house so I’m sure it was his.¬†

Officer G: Ma’am I’m real sorry about the situation, and I’m real sorry to have to bother you and bring this up, but I need to know if you would like the gun back.

Me: What? I never knew what happened to it to begin with. I mean, what would I do with it? Officer I really don’t know what I would do with the gun….I don’t have to take it back do I? I’d rather not see it, touch it, nothing. No. No I do not want it back.¬†

Officer G: No ma’am you don’t have to take it back. We have to give you the option since it wasn’t part of a crime, we collected it as a¬†safety¬†precaution¬†and to be sure it matched with the medical examiners report. Again ma’am I’m sorry to have to bring all this back up, I’m sure it’s hard for you to talk to me today. I can just mark that we spoke and set the gun to be destroyed. Thank you for your time ma’am, again I’m real sorry I had to call you today.¬†

It’s not as though I have forgotten that day. It’s not as though I can push it out of my head, the day is always there, lingering in the background. Life has to move on, days have to continue to start and end and repeat. You have to bandage the pain, numb it down to a minimum and keep going.

Today….this one phone call that lasted all of two minutes….put me right back in that day 5.5 years ago. The bandage was ripped off what I thought was mostly healed. My day today has gone on as usual, I have to work. I have to be pleasant and professional. But really I just want to crawl in bed and have a good cry. Tomorrow will be better, because life goes on for some of us.

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The Art of Doing Nothing

In my busy, chaotic, life I have found that doing nothing is very challenging. Honestly, I’m not good at doing nothing and struggle even attempting it. I find that, often, I try to do nothing but something always pops up to¬†interrupt¬†my nothing. I willing turn away the nothing in exchange for too much of everything else. This weekend, however, I took it upon myself to actively do nothing.

Here is the recipe I found for my perfect nothingness.

1. Get away from the city – We purchased an RV recently, and this weekend we took it to the Lake of the Ozarks.

2. Unplug from electronics – I put my phone in a drawer.

3. Build a nice pit fire.

4. Pull up a chair and stare aimlessly into the fire for a few hours while the small one naps.

5. Gather a large pile of leaves and lay in them while mini-me has the time of her life running, throwing and burying me in the leaves…for free!

6. Have a glass or two, or three of wine.

7. If the brain starts wandering into, where, what, who or why….focus back on the flames of the fire and shut brain off again.

I cannot tell you how AMAZING it was to turn off my brain, escape from the chaos of running errands and organizing. The level of anxiety I usually have disappeared, the soul took a deep breath and exhaled with peaceful calmness. I look forward to escaping more often to do nothing.

What do you do to perfect the art of doing nothing?

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Let it Shine

Recently my family and I attended a lovely bon-fire. This was not a simple bon-fire, the fire was at least 20 feet tall; the fire was brilliantly amazing. As I sat on the ground, leaves all around, my little mini-me perched on my lap; I spontaneously started singing This Little Light of Mine. I did not sing it in the style I learned in Bible School, slightly loud and shouty; I sang it softly, into my daughters ear, slowly, like a lullaby. This memory, precious moment in time, reminds me of how wonderful life can be, and yet how overwhelming life can get.

This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine

I have a light within me that shines. It is the love my parents instilled in me; it is the love of Jesus that I let shine through my own shadows and sins. Some days this light shines bright for all to see, sharing love, hope and encouragement to others. Bearing others burdens while showing them that they too have a light within them that shines.

Hide it under a bush, on no, I’m going to let it shine

Some days my light is hid under a bush, my personal bush of issues. Some days I cannot seem to find the light no matter how hard I want it to shine. On those days I am reminded by friends or family that the light is always there. The light of my loved ones helps me find the bush and let my light free. The light of others love and encouragement shining brings my light back from the bush it gets lost under.

Won’t let Satan blow it out, I’m going to let it shine

Satan is on a constant mission to blow my light out. He sends winds of doubt, anxiety, anger, resentment. He tries to limit my light, extinguish it, smother it out. Some days I let him succeed. Without the warmth of the light shining I feel lost, alone, unworthy. The wonderful part of the light being out is that Jesus never truly lets the light go. HE reminds me that the embers are always there, I just have to embrace them, stir them up. Once again the light is shining bright as the SON, and I again am filled with love and warmth.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

Have courage, be strong and let your own light shine.

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I Humbly Accept This Nomination

Today I received notification that I had been nominated for an award… Beautiful Blogger Award!

Wow…BIG smiles and no way, is what crossed my mind. My nomination came from a strong young woman, Prego and the Loon, whom has endured some of life’s most difficult challenges. I am new to the blogging world and feel quite honored to be nominated for this small little piece of blogging¬†tradition.¬†I have never been nominated for an award, my heart is happy!

What makes a beautiful blogger? I’m not sure what my readers have found in my posts that brings beauty to mind, but I can tell you what a beautiful blog means to me as a reader. I am an avid reader and have been smitten with the blogging world. I love to read Freshly Pressed every day. I love scanning through the Family, Parenting and Humor tags. A beautiful blog can be so many things depending on the day I’ve had.¬†A mothers funny story about her children. A heart¬†wrenching¬†story about a survivor of domestic abuse. A unique photo blog. A stay home domestic dad’s adventures in child rearing. A touching poem by an unknown artist. A funny out look on how one person deals with depression all on their own. All of these bring beauty to my day.

There are so many blogs that I have read that deserve the Beautiful Blogger Award, so with humble thanks to Prego and the Loon I accept this award.

Apparently to accept the award I must stick with the traditions attached. Here are the rules that I have been given to pass along:

1.Thank the blogger who nominated you. (You have been thanked, a few times lol)

2. Attach the award to your site. (I’m not sure how to do this, but I will figure it out)

3. Share seven random facts about yourself.

MY SEVEN RANDOM FACTS:

1. I can fit my whole fist in my mouth

2. I love fishing and being outdoors

3. I have never visited Hawaii

4. I hate to run

5. I would like to volunteer more

6. I blog because it keeps me centered, and I think I’m funny and hopefully can brighten at least one readers day.

7. I can still buy clothes in the kids section….it’s cheaper and nobody knows the difference ūüôā

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Anxiety, She’s Strong – My Inner Goddess is Stronger

Anxiety

Anxiety, oh Anxiety, wherefore art thou Anxiety? My inner Goddess is hunting you.

To the outside world I seem to be a strong, confident, put together mom. For the most part all of that is true. I can organize, prioritize, cook, clean, do laundry, go to work, go to the gym, drop off and pick up from preschool, tutor for homework, play dress up and tea party, bath time and bedtime story read, all in one day. Nothing special, any other mom can do all of this in a single day. The difference is, I go through my day fighting the inner demon anxiety, and she’s strong.

She sits in the back ground taunting me. Telling me it can’t be done, why get out of bed. When I do get things done she sneers at me, with a side long glance, whispering that it’s not quite good enough. When I go out in public she squeezes me from the core, making it hard to breath or make small talk with people. She insinuates that people are staring, judging. She encourages doubt. She rally’s her sister depression.

Anxiety is a trouble maker and I despise her.

My inner Goddess fights back. She is my cheer leader, letting me know I’m doing all right. She stands strong and yells back that anxiety has no place here. I listen close to her, she tells me to be still, God is with me, I will be fine. Anxiety cowers when my Goddess speaks.

I avoid large crowds. I need a minimum of an arm’s length of space between me and the person I’m talking to. I take deep breaths. I press one of my fingers and thumb together, often, to dispel the crushing feelings when anxiety sets in. I work out to¬†exert¬†the energy that would otherwise be left for anxiety to snatch like a thief. I take a small pill, that puts a good size barrier up, making it harder for anxiety to reach me.

Anxiety does not make me introverted or anti-social. I love people and I love to talk. Anxiety just makes it harder to be “normal” when others are around. Harder to appear bubbly and not so brash. Anxiety makes it difficult to just be me.

My inner Goddess allows me to punch anxiety in the face. My Goddess reminds me that it’s¬†OK¬†to not always be normal. I love my inner Goddess.

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