1.) What is your life's anthem? You know...that song that is ALWAYS in your head. The one you'd go to sing first if someone told you to sing a song right NOW. What is it and what does it mean to you? (inspired by Tattooed Minivan Mom)
2.) We love telemarketers don't we!?! Describe a memorable experience you had with one. (inspired by Literal Dan
3.) How much does focusing on weight affect your daily life? (inspired by Musings Of A Blond Mom)
4.) Describe in what ways you expect too much from your significant other. Do they deserve an apology? (inspired by Carty Party Of Three) 5.) List ten things that make you HAPPY. (inspired by our irritation at our own complaining from last weeks "Sick Of" posts.)
I'm going to hit them all. Ready?
My life's anthem? In my early to mid teen years, it was "So Many Men (So Little Time)". It was such a hoot! Then my mid to later teen years it was anything sappy and sad. You know, those dramatic years. Now it is just anything that will drown out my fighting children. I kid you not.
The only one I can think of is the carpet cleaning company that Leon told to phone back later and talk to me. I told her (she called PRECISELY when I was walking in the door) very nicely that we weren't interested. She was so hoping that we were a sure thing, and said as much to me. So I responded with "No. He was just too chicken shit to tell you himself!" She never called back.
I have done this often and deeply. I'm not due to go back there for a while.
I suppose I expect a lot from poor Leon. But, really, it's no more than I would expect from myself. We mainly just have different priorities. And apologize? Ummm. Yeah, whatev. Sorry. lol (You all already feel sorry for him for getting stuck with me. Why change sides now? lol)
Ten things that make me happy? Ten WHOLE things? This may take a while.
My kids getting along. (At least this probably WOULD make me happy if it lasted longer than it took for the shock to wear off. I kid you not.)
A clean house.
A job well done.
Leon finishing a job he starts. (See number four above)
The "anonymous" comment I'll get after he reads this.
Music. Always music.
Another spa weekend with my mom.
Watching my kids sleep.
Now can you believe that I finished this entire post, then stretched out my legs under the desk and hit the switch on our extension cord? I had to do this entire post all over again because it hadn't autosaved. That sucked!!! lol
Go see Kat (who, you probably heard, is going to be speaking at SITSCATION 2009 in Vegas!! How totally cool is THAT!)
Our dishwasher has been on the fritz lately, so Leon spent the afternoon taking apart the inner workings of the dishwasher and the pipes under the sink. There is clearly a back up somewhere, not to mention a kink in the hose (get your minds out of the gutter, he's a frenchman, it's NEVER kinked!).
So under the sink he took apart elbows and attachments and all sorts of guy stuff. (Ladies, he even CLEANED while he had everything out. Is he a keeper, or what??)
When Leon first phoned me to tell me what he found, and to assure me that he was REALLY happy to be a guy in that moment, I naturally asked him to gather it all up in a pile and take a picture of it for my blog. Unfortunately it was already tossed into the trash, so I don't have a Wordful Wednesday post this week.
Let's play a round or two or three of:
"What did Leon find down our drain?"
Ready? Pick one from each round.
A plastic dinosaur
A polly pocket
My car keys
The red clown nose from last year's halloween costume
A table knife
Livvy's lost shoe
Ringo's chew toy
Last, round three:
The Tooth Fairy
Our spare cordless phone
A used condom
You'll have to check in the comments section for the answers!!
Yesterday's post was a little vague. I seriously just did not know how to put into words what I wanted to share. I still won't divulge everything, except that there is a certain young man, and two mothers, who are more than a little sad right now.
I'm going to miss that little shit. I'm going to miss the extra dose of testosterone that we so desperately need around here. I'm going to miss his family. His Mom. I'm going to miss the summer that was supposed to be such a blast. I'm going to miss seeing his smiling face in the back seat of my van when I look in my rear view mirror. I'm going to miss the cuteness of watching them trade off the jacket that had lost his smell for the fresh one that "smelled like an angel".
I dread making plans to return that jacket. I dread the day she tells me there is someone new. I dread discovering that the new one is her usual mixed gender freak of nature that is her normal thing of choice. I dread having to pretend I like that freak. (Oh, who do I think I'm fooling. I won't even pretend to like him/her/it!)
That sums it up, I suppose. To say this really sucks sums it up better.
Today I would like to pay tribute to generations past. I came across this while looking through some files tonight.
Paul Harvey (whoever that is.... lol) wrote:
We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I'd like better.
I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and handmade ice cream and leftover meatloaf sandwiches. I really would.
I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.
I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car.
And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen.
It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.
I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother or sister. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room, but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him.
When you want to see a movie and your little brother or sister wants to tag along, I hope you let her.
I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
On rainy days, when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mom.
If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one.
I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.
When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.
I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a boy or girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like.
May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue to a frozen flagpole.
I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend.
I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Gramma and Grampa and go fishing with your Uncle.
May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.
I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbour's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.
These things I wish for you - tough times and disappointment, hard work and happiness. To me, it's the only way to appreciate life.
Only I would like to add:
May you have to face the music when you break the law, and not be protected by those laws. What lesson is learned in that?
I hope that you get cut from a sports team because of your bad attitude or lack of skill. How will you learn to be a team player or to work harder if your parents cry louder than you do at this injustice?
I hope you have to repeat a grade if you clearly didn't deserve it. That way you, and oft times your teacher, will learn that they have to work harder to get the job done.
1.) Define goodness...joy...sorrow...and anger using pictures you've taken.
2.) Tomorrow I will do it differently. Here's how...
3.)Describe a 'sound' from your childhood. What was it? When did you hear it? What does it bring to mind?
4.) I remember when...
5.) Right now is the best time to start. What's your first step?
I didn't even get past number 2. I have no idea what the others are, because I have no need to read further.
But you do.
So please, read on... Some, or many, of you may be able to relate to what I am going to talk about.
Others will just once again be amazed and inspired by the depth to which I can sink myself.
I just glanced up to see what the other options were, and I see that today I can include number 5. They go hand in hand, really.
In January I started going to weight watchers. By the middle of April, I had dropped 25 pounds. I felt great. I looked better than I had for a long, long time. I was active.
My friends, I was happy.
And then I fell off the wagon.
To those of you who haven't quite figured it out yet, we're going to delve into what makes Rhonda, and her eating disorder, tick.
I'm not bulemic. I do binge, but not purge.
Nor am I anorexic. As my mother says, you have to be a special kind of stupid to not eat. And believe you me, my entire family is clearly NOT stupid!
But I have an eating disorder just the same. It's called having no control.
Some have named it the "What the hell effect".
It's wanting to take the easy way out, by not having to plan or cook.
But in the end, being fat isn't easy.
I have bad habits that go back to my childhood. And in turn, I am teaching my children those same habits.
I'm a fast food addict.
I'm a chocolate lover.
I'm a slurpee crazed woman who will annihilate anyone who gets in her way when it comes to empty calories. (Side thought; why do they call them "empty" calories, when they are clearly so full of bad?)
I have debated telling you about what I will eat in a day, when I'm cramming like a student the night before exams. When I vow I'll get back on track the next day. But it's frightening. And embarrassing.
I have debated telling you about how much money is spent on eating out, but my husband reads this and would probably kill me. (Oops. Too late. I love you, honey.)
When I am in the middle of an eating binge, I will seriously take whatever route I have to to get the stuff I want to eat. I will stop at a couple places if necessary. And I will make sure I eat it before I get home.
I will hate myself while I am doing it. But I will do it anyway.
I will deny how bad I have really been. (I took my garbage bag out of my van yesterday. That was an eye opener, because I only cleaned it out six days ago. It was fully of empty wrappers. I can't believe I'm sharing this much. Clearly, though, I should "share" more!!)
I feel crappy. I am starting to show, in my tummy, some of the weight I am putting back on. My skin is starting to get blotchy again.
So, why do I do it?
Goodness knows I'm not hungry. I haven't been hungry in weeks.
I don't have to be craving anything in particular.
All it takes is me. Going into a store. Alone.
Me. Driving down the street. Alone.
Me. Home. Alone.
I'm going to try again to get back on track. I have worked too hard to just gain this weight back in a month, especially when it took me four months to lose it!!
I don't want to go back to hiding when I see someone I know. I want to hold my head high and greet them, not try to hurry by and feign surprise when they call me over.
I don't want to wear shirts that are three sizes too big. I don't want to wear underwear that resemble circus tents.
I know I've made it sound like I've got a huge weight problem. And I do. But I'm not hundreds of pounds overweight. At this point, I'm probably only about another 25 pounds over what the world says is my top number for my height. It's really quite attainable.
But right now, it seems like a mountain I have to climb. A marathon I have to run.
And sometimes I feel really unprepared.
But tomorrow, I will start posting back on my private blog. I'll make myself accountable again at Weight Watchers, and here.
For any who can't figure it out, the one I didn't want to win is the one who sacrificed her much larger, far unhappier, daughter, for her own good.
That ticked me off much more than I can even begin to tell you.
I'm not one to want to hear the end of a show or book before I get to it myself, thank you very much, but this one? I told Cassie just to tell me if it was her, because then I wouldn't waste my time watching it.
That's just how it is.
And it's not even just a little bit because I wanted Mike to win. Or because he was so deserving.