Need a Letter to Adequately Express Your Outrage?

Better yet, do you know any liberals who need help expressing their outrage?  Check out this link and click the "Outrage Generator."

Just for kicks, I will fill out my own letter and post it here.  Then, you do the same in the comment section and we can giggle self-righteously to ourselves.

Here's my letter:

To Whom It May Concern,

I am writing today to shriek my utter OFFENSE over the fact that anyone dared to momentarily think the dreaded K-Word. 

You see, I am inordinately proud of my ethnicity – and why shouldn't I be? It took incredible skill and hard work on my part to be conceived – not to mention all the determination it took me to master blinking. That's why pride in my ethnicity constitutes my entire one-dimensional identity – and for that I deserve automatic and constant validation.

Now, I'm a supporter of free speech and all, but when it isn't gushingly positive about people to whom I condescend for cheap political points, then it's time for draconian censorship!

Furthermore, as a member of the esteemed International Society of the Ancestrally Fixated, it is my pleasure to remind you that only WE are allowed to use the K-Word – as a proud expression of our resilience. 

You know, growing up Jedi in my overly tolerant hippie commune, it didn't take long to realize that the problem with today's world is that people who are different from me are too criminally self-absorbed to fixate entirely on MY feelings. And that's why when those people used the K-Word, I felt I'd been personally smacked, and as such hereby formally demand their public exectution. 

Yours Truly, 

G

PS: I won't be surprised if you ignore me. That's just the kind of treatment I'd expect from a typical sneaky cracker like YOU!




Fun, right?  Go make yours and report your findings.  :-)

~G

Racing to Amen

You might remember Little One asking to "brave."  We have changed how we pray nightly.  We have transitioned into praying the Lord's Prayer at the end of our nightly prayers.

Now Little One asks to "brave" with her brothers.  This has turned into gathering in the boys' room where we all pray the Lord's Prayer together.

The only thing is Middle One races... races... to the end.  The kid cannot wait to say "Amen."  He says it with a flourish-y shake of his head and then grins to himself.

Oh, to be God and know what that kid is thinking.

~ G

Lessons From Bed

Ha. How many hits will this post get with the use of "bed" in the title?

Here is the deal. I hurt my weak ankle two weeks ago. This is the ankle I broke 23 years ago and the same ankle I sprain or twist every few years, whether it needs it or not. Consistency is important, doncha know?

Ahem.  My ankle sustained injury and was feeling better.  Then, like a classic dumbass moron idiot fool, I gave in to the kids wanting me to jump on the trampoline with them and... two hours later the pain was unbearable.  My ankle felt like it did post-surgery when I was a teenager. Nice, huh?

Sigh.  At any rate, I am now in reduced-severe pain (thank you, hydrocodone) and bedridden. This is day two.  As miserable as the prospect of being bedridden for proper healing is, it reminds me of all the tips and tricks I learned while on bed rest with my last two pregnancies.

Let me share the lessons from bed:

1. Get dressed.  Even if you put on super-comfy flannels or your favorite sloppy shirt and shorts, get out of your jammies.  Getting dressed gives structure to the day.  This is "awake" time (even if you take 3 naps today), so dress for being awake.
2. Open the curtains or blinds. Natural light in the room helps keep your internal clock on some semblance of "normal."  It also prevents you from feeling like Vampira.
3. Make the bed.  Yes, you are on bed rest or bedridden, but save the clean sheets for night time.  Park your toosh on top of the comforter.
4. Park your toosh in the middle of the bed.  Chances are good your beloved will not take a snooze during the day.  This is your throne for the duration, so dominate the space Your Highness!  Save staying on your side of the bed for nighttime - when you are back in the jammies and under the clean sheets.
5. Brush your teeth and wash your face.  Plan on a shower later in the day to break up the afternoon.
6. Assemble your bed stuff first thing in the morning.  This is the stuff you keep with you all day.  For me, this starts with a tray.  A tray provides a place for drinks and meals.  It also keeps all your stuff organized so your current mess of a life does not feel more out-of-control than necessary.  My tray holds:

• the telephone
• the cell phone (which you can't see in the pic because I'm holding it)
• reading material
• the remote
• laptop
• water, preferably with a lid
• meds, unless you tend to forget how and when to take them, in which case have your husband or mother dole them out when necessary
• lip balm
• extra pillows
• throw blanket
• anything else you need, like tissues or reading glasses

My tray for today.  See those blue shorts at
the bottom of the pick?  Those are leftover
maternity shorts from Big Kid's pregnancy.
They are comfy.  They look like hell and
need hemming on one leg, but I they are
my go-to comfy shorts.

My poor little ankle atop an extra pillow.
See the other extra pillow and throw blanket?
These are most excellent for naps.

6. Settle into bed rest.  Ease into it like a bubble bath.  You are stuck and not going anywhere, so stop trying to be "you" and chill out.  

7. Come up with a TV viewing plan.  Flip through the guide and find about 20 things that interest you.  Record them. Watching home improvement shows or the current marathon of "Millionaire Matchmaker" will give structure to your day. If you are bedridden for 3 days, scroll through the guide and record things for the next few days. Having something attainable to anticipate makes things easier.  You will not be cleaning anything or moving anything or pulling weeds.  You are stuck in bed.  Embrace it.  You are not lazy - you have been ordered to bed.  Find ways to enjoy it!  

8. If you have kids, plan special time with them - or embrace the random moments.  Have a movie night in your bed with just one of your children.  Give your daughter a pedicure.  Read with just one child.  Yesterday I was awakened from a snooze to play ponies with Little One.  Each one of my kids has had the opportunity to hang out with me.  Who knew bed rest could equal special time alone with each kid?

Bed rest is not a helluva lot of fun, but can be made quite bearable. I'm just sayin.'

~ G

The Best - Another Culinary Win

Overheard at our dinner table:

Middle One: Mama?  Did you make these cinnamon rolls yourself?

(Truth in advertising requires me to tell you we had breakfast for dinner.  That included sausage, scrambled eggs, and cinnamon rolls.  Back to the touching story...)

Me: Yes.

Middle One: [Eyes wide] These are the best cinnamon rolls I have ever eaten.  You really made them?!

Me:  [Trying not to get misty-eyed] Thank you, honey.  I really did make them.  I am so glad you like them. 

Sniff.  Sniff.  Hmmm.  It just occurred to me that we sound like the Cleavers.  Oh, well!



So, a great big shout-out to the Pioneer Woman, er, Ree Drummond.  Thank you for the best cinnamon roll recipe ever! 

Just in case anyone needs a hard copy of the best cinnamon roll recipe EVER, check out PW's book. 











~ G

Yeah, It's a RACK!

May I simply say that it cracks me up that the post with the most traffic on the blog is She's Got a Great Rack?

How many men have stumbled upon that post when looking for... something else?

I'm just sayin'

~ G

Whew! Glad for Confirmation.

Reading the latest issue of Marie Claire (please do not judge me for reading such a liberal-leaning rag mag), I noticed a link to a career quiz.  Curiosity got the best of me and I typed in the link to take the quiz.

As it turns out, I am well-suited for my current career as a stay-at-home mom.  In fact, according to the quiz, I am incredibly fortunate to have a job I love, one where I feel appreciated (yes, well-fed, healthy kids and husband who seeks me out for my opinions count as "appreciated"), and one where I have a healthy attitude about what I do.

Thank you, Marie Claire for confirming what I already knew.  Sometimes a silly quiz can feel like a great big pat on the back.

Take the quiz!  Please come back and share your results below.

~G

I Have Not Had a Whole Lot to Say

The past few months have ushered in a quiet phase for me.

I have been asked how the Nice plan unfolded.  Well, that in and of itself is a story.

The bottom line is I am a helluva lot nicer.

The long story is I took extreme measures to get there.  Well, extreme for me.  The truth is Darling is working very hard these days.  It is what it is and it is not going to change for another year or so.  It has been this way for a couple years.  About 18 months ago, I remember standing at my friend's kitchen island and saying I could feel the stress changing me and I did not like it.

I did not like it.

The stress of being the single mom with three kids and a husband wore me down to the point where I would daydream about going to sleep and being in bed for an indefinite amount of time.  I would drive past a big tree and the thought would cross my mind that if I slammed into it with the car I could buy myself some rest time in the hospital.

Um, that is not okay... just in case you wondered.

At my annual lady visit, I finally asked my OB/GYN for some meds to take the edge off my stress.  This is my doctor who delivered Middle One, shepherded me through two miscarriages and three D&C's in one year, and guided me through pregnancy with Little One.  Over the past eight years, she has had occasion to ask me if I needed "help" or something to help with my blues.  I always turned her down.

I turned her down because 30 minutes of hard exercise could lift my mood for a couple days.  I turned her down because a long talk with a girlfriend could lift my mood and pull me out of the blues.  I turned her down because I felt the tools I had to lift myself continued to work.

And then they did not work anymore.

By this winter, 30 minutes of exercise lifted me for an hour, not days.  Talking with a girlfriend became an in-the-moment ease of worry and the long-lasting effects evaporated.  Eating better did not help.  Getting more sleep did not help.  Adjusting how Darling and I tried to get things done around here did not help.  Falling on my knees and giving it to God did not offer the long-lasting heart-lift it used to offer.

And then I needed to start looking for a job.

More stress.

I had to look for daycare options for Little One.

More stress.  Heartache.

So at my appointment, I asked for help.  I asked for help.

My doctor asked at least 20 questions to assess my needs.  I told her I needed a little help for the next year or so and we agreed that this would be a short-term plan until Darling's work load subsided and things got back to normal.  She prescribed Celexa, warned me that the first two weeks might be rough (fatigue, nausea), but by the end of two weeks, I should feel great.

I went to Target pharmacy, paid my $10 for 3 months' worth of daily meds, went home and took one before bedtime.

An amazing thing happened.  Aside from the crippling fatigue and near-pregnancy nausea, I felt like "me" again.  I could actually think again.  The words and thoughts in my head no longer felt like a jumble of words, words, emotions, words, words, words, but rather a linear pattern I could decipher.

The best and the worst part?  The first few days slayed me.  Darling and I would have a conversation and I would watch him visibly recoil, waiting for me to fly off the handle at him.  The kids seemed to brace themselves for me to start yelling.  I did not, however, fly off the handle.  I did not, however, start yelling at the kids.

I was back.  *I* was back.

I have always been anti-meds.  If natural, non-medicinal methods can do the same thing, do them.  I delivered all my children, including my pitocin-induced baby, without pain meds.  I had researched the tools, practiced the tools, and used the tools to do it without medicine.  That philosophy served me well for years.  For most of my life, medicine has not really been necessary.  It was necessary here.

It brought me back.  It gave me myself back.  It gave Darling his wife back and gave my children their mother back.

By the end of the two weeks, I felt great.  I feel like me again.  I did not realize how un-me I had become until I got "me" back.   It has been a lot to process, a lot of consider, and a lot to experience.

And that is why I have not had a whole lot to say.

~ G