Unstoppable force, Immovable Object

I had an interesting afternoon today. Mondays are tricky because we see Jeremy's occupational therapist every other week. It makes Doug's nap either truncated or non-existent. I was kind of unstoppable today. I came home from dropping Bekah off at preschool and did the circuit Kate prescribed for me. I took a shower and headed back to preschool.

I made lunch for both myself and Bekah and then got inspired about our backyard. See, we have two dogs, Scout and Rascal. Each weighs about 50 pounds and we have not picked up after them in our backyard since late fall. You figure we let them out at least 3 times a day...do the math. The backyard was an absolute wreck.

The weather around here has still not decided to make a transition to spring. It's been cold on the weekends, the perfect yard-cleaning time. I decided that today was the day. I was going to perform a frontal assault on the yard, no-holds barred.

I can't work on the yard with Doug running about. He's a mess. I would be worried about him sneaking away to the neighbor's house (he's done this before) or into the street (also this). We have a gate on the side of our yard but it's been broken since last summer. It's on a long laundry list of things that need to be fixed around the house when we get "extra" money. So far, the only money we've had has been spoken for and then some.

I tried, last summer, to prop up the gate against the fence but Doug broke through that right away. Really, then, the only solution is yardwork is to perform it when he's napping. I put him down for a nap and then got to work, armed with two empty dog food bags (32 pound bags), a garbage can, a shovel and a rake. There was no way a pooper scooper was going to do the trick.

Two hours later, the yard looked one thousand times better. My hands will have blisters and my shoulders, abs and feet were aching, but the two bags and garbage can were full of feces and yard debris.

Off we went to pick Jeremy up from school and take him to his OT appointment. En route, Jeremy got a bloody nose. We were on time (a rarity for us), but delayed trying to stop his nose from bleeding. Typically, the therapist lets Bekah and Doug play with Jeremy for the last 5 minutes of the session. The nosebleed meant that wasn't going to happen. Perhaps Bekah was pissed about it, I don't know. What followed was a series of acts of defiance. There are some toys and books in the waiting room. Bekah decided that, instead, she wanted to climb all over the chairs. I asked her, quietly but firmly, to sit on the chairs and/or play with the toys. I told her she shouldn't be climbing on the furniture.

Meanwhile, Doug discovered that if he pushes hard enough, the door leading outside opens and he can escape. Great fun for him, not so much for me. I alternated between scolding Bekah and preventing Doug from leaving. It was hectic. After the second time scolding Bekah, I told her that if she continued to disobey she would end up going to bed early when we got home.

Jeremy's achilles heel is the iPad. Threaten loss of the iPad and 9 times out of 10, the desired outcome is achieved--bad behavior is quashed. Bekah, on the other hand, is tough to motivate. She doesn't care if you say she can't watch Frozen. "That's okay," she'll say, "I didn't want to watch it anyway." Threaten to give away her toys? "Fine, go ahead," she'll say, arms crossed.

Talk about an immovable object.

I have tried almost everything with her, though I admit not consistently and not with great results. It's frustrating to mother Bekah sometimes. Today I decided that I wasn't going to wait for the reaction that would mean I found a pressure point. I was simply going to follow through.

Enter the unstoppable force.

Upon reaching home, I very calmly told her to put on her pajamas and go upstairs. I actually gave her two choices. She could go upstairs on her own or I could help her. I assured her that the latter was going to be far less enjoyable. She screamed and yelled and through a fit. Very calmly I said not making a choice was allowing me to make a choice for her.

She finally decided on option A and headed upstairs.

Of course, that's not the end of the story.

She came back down (I can't remember why) and I had to chase her (all the while trying not to laugh at the idea that she thought she had it over on me) around our kitchen to get her to go back upstairs. I followed her up into her room and let her know, in no uncertain terms, that it was she who had made the decisions leading to her isolation upstairs. I try to help her understand that though I come up with the consequences, I don't hand them out willy-nilly. They are bestowed upon those who make really poor choices.

Back downstairs I went to make dinner. For the next half an hour, I heard a steady chant from her about how she was going to listen to me. Literally, "mommy, I'm going to listen to you" for almost 30 minutes, nonstop. After that she alternated between "I'm bored being upstairs by myself" and "I'm going to listen."

I didn't engage with her at all. I played on my phone, I checked on dinner, I talked with Doug and Jeremy. Oh, and I watched the clock. It was one of those nights, when I couldn't wait for Brian to walk in the door. After a while, though, I did hear the noise seem to draw closer. I went to check and sure enough, she was sitting on the stairs. I told her to get to her room. She claimed that she was going to listen, but here she was not listening. 

Mercifully, Brian walked in about 10 minutes later. I brought him up to speed on the afternoon's events. I called Bekah down for dinner and meanwhile she started in on Brian. She wanted a chance to plead her case but we have agreed to stand behind whatever consequence the other doles out. She wasn't going to get what she wanted.

Even after I ran an errand and came back, she was still pleading with us to let her come back downstairs. I am happy to report that I didn't raise my voice, I didn't lose my cool, I didn't scream, shout, stomp my feet or throw anything. I simply didn't give in to any of her pleas. She is currently snoozing away and I'm letting the world know she's a little bit crazy.

Now who's the immovable object?

Exhaustion

I have decided that being a full-time mommy, a wife and trying to maintain a blog and write a novel is exhausting. That's just the plain truth. I am happy to do all of it, I will continue to make strides to do all of these tasks well. Just let it be known that I am exhausted!! I took a short nap today but also got caught up on housework. Laundry, running the dishwasher, making dinner, going to church.

This is where my insanity starts to creep in, though. The house is totally silent. The kids and husband are sleeping soundly. My body is sore from being abused by my trainer yesterday. I have a touch of a headache. We have a full day tomorrow that includes getting everyone to school and then Occupational Therapy for Jeremy after school.

It would make the most sense to just give up and go to sleep. That would probably be the most life-affirming action to take, I'll admit it.

The problem is that I never, ever get to enjoy the house like this. If anyone is awake, I am the subject of intense scrutiny. I am hunted down like a prized possession. I am tracked like an escaped prisoner. I am treated like some head honcho at a press conference--peppered endlessly by inane and redundant questions.

That is exhausting. More than laundry, which seems to never end, or trying to clothe three people and get somewhere on time, being this popular is exhausting.

It's funny that when moms start to complain on this or reflect on their stresses, two things happen. First, the complainant feels the need to make sure everyone knows she loves her kids.

Duh.

It should be plain to anyone hearing the complaints that we love our kids. If we didn't, there would be no complaints. I don't think our kids would bug us so darn much if we didn't love them so much. If being asked the same question a million times a day didn't cause a rise in our blood pressure, it would mean we were able to tune our kids out. I've yet to meet a mom who can do that. Or kids who will allow it.

The other constant is the response the complainant receive from moms who have older kids. They get a dreamy look in their eyes and tell us, "this too shall pass," or "cherish these days because pretty soon they won't want anything to do with you." These statements are as useless as ice skates at the beach. We understand that time is temporal. We are not looking for platitudes. We are looking for sympathy, for someone with whom to share a glass of wine (if that's your thing) or with whom to escape for a cup of coffee.

I am not going to survive this phase of my child's lives if I am only focusing on when it's going to be over. I have fought long and hard to convince my husband that when I vent to him, I'm not necessarily looking for a solution. I don't know that I can ever stop being this popular. I know it's different for different kids, too. I have been intensely close to my parents my entire life. Really, it's true. I had one person at my Sweet 16 party. One. It's a little sad but it speaks to the fact that the people to whom I was closest were my parents.

I'm not saying my kids will be like that, maybe they won't. But it's going to be a different set of annoyances to navigate. I don't know what they are yet, but I'm sure I'll hear about them after this post!

I don't know that one phase of motherhood is more or less exhausting, but the consensus is pretty universal that the one in which I currently find myself is in the top 1%. There are no breaks. The kids can't do very much for themselves. I am still changing diapers, I have to make all their meals (I've heard it told that some children can get themselves breakfast in the morning), I have to be on top of them at all times when out of the house.

I say all of this to say that for me, it's a no-brainer to stay up late in the quiet house. I am an extrovert but even the most outgoing person needs time to recharge their batteries.

I always pay for this bad habit in the morning, but even so it is deliciously worth it.

Momentum

I have tried exactly two times in the past to write a book. Both times I lost steam and enthusiasm for the idea. Meanwhile, this attempt is chugging right along. I'm at 16,000 words. I have characters I love. I am spending most of my free time thinking about the plot. I have actually started to check my phone for texts form my characters. Trust me, I know that puts me in the "a little bit out there" territory.

I can't wait to sit down at my PC and type. I'm considering edits already, but I'm not letting that stop my forward momentum. I am cautiously optimistic that I won't abandon this manuscript.

In other news, spring break continues to drag by. I had hoped to do something fun with the kids today, but we watched movies again. I am going to blame the lack of activity on the crappy weather. I feel like it's impossible to plan too much outdoor fun when the temperatures is hovering in the 20s and 30s.

I am not sure what else to report. I'm trying to keep momentum going here, too, but most of my creative energy is being diverted into my manuscript. I did have the chance to see my trainer today. I know it seems crazy to pay for a trainer when we are struggling financially, but it's cheaper than therapy and a lot more exhausting.

Fiction Update

Hello, loyal readers. I recently started what I'm hoping will become a novel. I posted two large fragments on my blog for your reading pleasure. I have decided not to post anymore. I am going to take it offline, develop it and hopefully publish it.

I wasn't sure I could sustain it and turn it into a novel. I am going to take a stab at it. I am also going to take part in a poetry contest my library is hosting. I am not sure what will come out of that. I'm a little terrified, as I don't normally share my poetry with the world. It usually happens in snippets and floats in and out of my mind.

In other news, this is the worst spring break ever. I had hoped that we would be able to frolic outside at some point. The temperatures continue to prohibit any outside play. I was even looking forward to being outside to start cleaning our backyard. It's just too darn cold to be working outside!! So far our activities have been heavily centered around the TV. We will be heading to the children's museum on Friday. I'm hoping to work some reading in somewhere.

I am indulging my love of staying up late this week. It's when I do my best creative work and I relish the idea of being alone in a quiet house. I have no expectations for how long my novel will be or how quickly I will be done. I am famous for starting projects but not finishing them. I'm hoping that I can use the extra quiet time this week to get a large portion done.

The book is very loosely based on my own life. I don't want to say to what extent because I'm drawing on experiences from friends and family as well. I don't want to break confidences or share too much because that wouldn't be fair to other people. I am hoping I've masked enough key details to shield people's true identities.

I wouldn't consider the book autobiographical. I will say, though, that I was taught to write what I know. The subject about which I am most familiar is myself. I know someone from high school who has had success writing YA fiction about vampires. Aside from the fact that I don't care about vampires, I don't know enough about vampires to make the books believable.

I am not sure what is going to happen in the novel or how it's going to turn out. I hope that I've whetted my readers' appetites enough that when I launch it as an eBook, I will be able to have some good sales.

Wish me luck.

A Work of Fiction: Part II

I put on my sweater in a huff and tied the belt around me. I stood there with my arms crossed, watching Jimmy nearly fall over with laughter. After several beats a smile broke on my face and I started chuckling.

"Okay, idiot. It's not that hilarious but it is kind of funny, I'll give you that." I studied a cuticle while Jimmy straightened up and wiped the corner of his eye.

"You have never been good at acting cool, Hannah. Just concede that. It never works, I've seen you try and it never works."

He wasn't wrong. I was a spaz at heart. It was my least favorite attribute about myself. The only time I could play it cool was with several slugs of tequila warming in my gullet. Then I was Marlene Dietrich in jeans, able to lure men in with a raised eyebrow. This was fantastic except that in the ensuing days I couldn't stay sufficiently inebriated to maintain my cool. It became an ongoing attempt to keep the spaz at bay and it was like fighting the urge to vomit when sick with the stomach flu. It was painful for me and I'm sure painful to watch.

I thought about this as we walked back toward a squat building on the edge of the campus. Jimmy occasionally let out a chuckle and shook his head. I rubbed my elbow absentmindedly and fidgeted with my pack of smokes.

Later, after dinner, I let Gina inspect my elbow in the privacy of our room. I winced as she cleaned it out, biting back tears. She filled up the time by reminding me how ill-fated she thought my relationship with Michael was going to be. There are many things I love about Gina, but this is not one of them. She has a compulsive need to be right. I felt too deflated to argue and I sat there like a balloon a week after a party, listless and flat.

My phone chimed and I grabbed it as she put the band-aid on me. It was Jimmy, wondering if I would prefer Settlers of Catan over the bonfire. Under normal circumstances I prefer dark woods and flames. I knew, though, that chances were good that Michael would be at the fire. I texted back that I would meet him in the conference room. I quickly relayed his message to Gina. I could sense the conflict flash in her eyes.

Jimmy had this effect on her and I didn't really understand it. For as much as I had acted a fool in front of Michael, Gina turned into a bigger fool around Jimmy. Much as I loved her it was painful to watch. I knew she was torn between staying by my side and saving her dignity.

"I don't mind if you go to the bonfire." I placed my hand on her knee. "Really, go. I know Shayna could use the company and it will give you a chance to catch up on gossip. Honestly, it's okay."

Her shoulders drooped with relief. "Only if you're sure?"

I knew she was being polite and I tapped her knee again. "Go, really. You know where to find me."

She spent a few minutes adjusting her hair and make-up. I couldn't understand why, as she was going to be spending time in the dark in front of a blazing fire. But then, this was the Gina that I would have previously flattened. I shook my head and pulled my boots on. We walked toward the door together. She gave my shoulder a squeeze as she set off down the trail to the bonfire.

I watched her walk away, sad that we wouldn't be spending more time together. I cursed myself for the thousandth time and headed toward the conference room. It was located in a building toward the entrance to the grounds. It had two wings heading off in different directions. The wings adjoined the building and met on the sides of the room. It had a fireplace, cement floors and an industrial grey paint on the walls. Tables lined the room and were filled with all sorts of snacks. The selection was best on Friday night. It was late Saturday and the only things left were bits and pieces of beef jerky, off-brand chips and the odd cookies in the butter cookie assortment.

My eyes browsed the tables but decided on staying away. I saw Jimmy setting up the game and noticed the usual suspects. Jack was there, his dark hair falling across his eyes. At six feet he could have been a looker except that his face was covered with acne scars. I had never heard him utter more than a few sentences at a time.

Chris, on the other hand, was always chatty. His scruffy brown hair never seemed to want to cooperate. His green eyes looked a little like marbles, always catching the light. He and I weren't close but with Jimmy being a mutual friend we ended up spending a lot of time together.

I was almost at the table before I noticed Jason. My stomach did a flip and I fought the urge to turn and run as Gina had done that morning. Jason was my kryptonite. I couldn't explain it and had endured endless ribbing from Jimmy for it. My body had an innate physical response when I was around Jason. It was annoying the way my palms started sweating, my mouth dried out and a bead of sweat broke out on my upper lip. It was as if the water in my body went haywire when I laid eyes on him.

God had done well with him. 6'2", dark hair, light brown eyes. Ridiculous eyelashes that were wasted on someone of his gender. He had one dimple and insisted on winking at me. I was convinced that he and Jimmy secretly guffawed over my reaction the first time he did it, thus ensuring that he would keep doing it. He was beautiful and I'm sure underneath his clothes were toned muscles. I tried to shake that image from my brain as I pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Hey, Hannah." Jack shook his hair out of his eyes as he said hello. I always thought he would benefit from a well-placed bobby pin.

"Hey, Jack. Are you enjoying the retreat?" I tried to start a conversation with him. I could feel Jason's eyes on the side of my face and I was certain there was a small smile on his lips. "I didn't see you much this afternoon."

"Yeah, I started not feeling well after breakfast and decided to go lie down for a bit." He wiped his nose with his sleeve as if on cue. "I made it to dinner and the late meeting, but I snuck in late and sat in the back."

Jimmy walked up to the table, wiping his hands with a paper towel. He pulled out a chair next to me and sat down between Jason and me. I relaxed in my seat a bit, hiding myself a little.

"Okay, everyone, lets get down to business." We all started grabbing cards and settling in for the game.

Settlers of Catan is a game most similar to Risk. It's a board game and requires some strategy. I had only started playing it at Jimmy's insistence and though much of my skill relied on chance, I enjoyed it. For the guys it sometimes became a bloodsport and that worked to my advantage. I usually hated exploiting my female traits but I wasn't above unbuttoning a button or fidgeting with my tongue ring to get what I wanted.

This usually caused Jimmy to glare at me across the table. His friends weren't attracted to me per se, but a flash of breast still reduced them to quivering masses. He considered this cheating. I enjoyed him sitting next to me because I knew he wouldn't be able to glare at me. I'm sure he would throw an elbow but I knew I could duck out of the way. Plus, with Jason on the other side of him, I wouldn't be as susceptible to the winking. This was how Jason got his way and I hated that it made my stomach do involuntary flips.

I knew the four of them got together often to play the game. I wasn't usually invited because I had the wrong parts. This was fine with me, mostly. It had become a special treat to play while at the retreat.

I reached into my pocket and put an earbud into my ear. I loved to listen to music but mostly I did it to annoy Jimmy. I hummed along with the music and it drove him to distraction. As a bonus, he was known to make poor moves as the evening (and humming) went on.

The start of the game takes a long time. I try to only stay up late one night of the retreat, the night we play the game. It was a poor move on my part to have been up so late the night before. I knew I would pay for it at work on Monday morning. There wasn't much talking as we studied the board, looking for the best place to set our pieces. Every once in a while someone entered the room trolling for snacks. Sometimes they'd even come over and watch for a few minutes, chewing as they studied the board.

Night wore on and I insisted on a smoke break. Jack rose from the table at the same time I did. Jimmy gave a loud sigh as a signal of disgust. I ignored him and followed Jack outside. The weather had turned much colder since I left our room. I pulled my sweater around me but my hands were still shaking as I tried to light my cigarette.

"Here, take my sweatshirt." I hadn't noticed Jack watching me. Really I hardly noticed Jack at all. It wasn't cruel, he just wasn't on my radar. "I insist, really."

I would have normally fought him but I was shivering hard. "Thanks so much," I mustered, as I gripped the cigarette in my teeth and slipped on his sweatshirt. My eyes started burning as I hastily zipped myself up.

"You're the best, dude," I said, and squeezed his arm. I wasn't sure because the light was bad, but I was fairly certain I saw him turn pink. I was so busy contemplating this that I almost missed the shadowy figure approaching the back porch. At the last minute, I had a flash of recognition and pushed Jack in front of me.

A sound escaped from Jack's throat but he allowed himself to be a human shield. He waved at Michael half-heartedly as Michael retreated to his room. I exhaled, realizing I had been holding my breath. I stepped away from Jack and ducked my head.

"I am sorry about that, Jack. I didn't...." I wasn't even sure how to finish the sentence. "Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hide. I'm not usually such a mess."

His eyes were kind, I realized, as I let a steady stream of blue smoke wisp into the night. He shrugged and turned pink again. We stood there, smoking, listening to the crickets and the distant happy noises of the bonfire.

I made a move to give him his sweatshirt back as we returned to the game. He put his hand up and shook his head. I gave him a quick hug and sat back down.

The game progressed, slowly, until Jimmy dominated most of the board. A few bad trades perpetrated by Jason's winking meant I probably wasn't going to win. This upset me. I had grown up a tomboy. I played on all-male sports teams. Boys (or men) usually didn't cause me to lose my edge. I had always been competitive, on the field or at board games. I hated to lose and so I was fuming, angry at myself for allowing Jason's stupid dimple and eyelashes to unnerve me.

It was after 3 when Jimmy finally won. I excused myself as I had spent the previous half-hour yawning non-stop. I knew the guys would probably be up a couple more hours but appreciated that they needed me not to be there.

I smoked another cigarette on the way back to my dorm. We weren't supposed to smoke and walk but it was late and I figured no one would know. I realized I still had Jack's sweatshirt and made a mental note to return it in the morning. I pulled it around me as I looked up at the sky. Out here, away from the cars, the sky seemed to work harder at showing off. I didn't know many constellations but searched for one of the dippers. I contemplated smoking a second cigarette but could barely feel my fingers.

After brushing my teeth and pulling on my pajamas, I padded softly into the room I was sharing with Gina. She was already hidden beneath blankets and I could hear her snore gently. I crossed over to my bed and pulled my covers up to my chin. Mercifully, sleep was on me before I could spend too much time thinking about Michael.

Sunday morning came too quickly. I always skipped breakfast on Sunday morning, opting for a cup of coffee and a quiet cigarette instead. People bustled around me, preparing to go home. Upon returning from the cafeteria I found Gina in front of the mirror, hair wet.

"Hey, you. I didn't hear you come in last night."

"Nope. The game took forever and I was beat. You were already asleep when I crawled into bed." I started pulling my clothes out of drawers and shoving them into my duffel bag. Gina's suitcase was laid out on her bed, neatly packed.

"Thanks again for insisting I go to the bonfire. We had a great time. I missed you, but it was still fun." She turned back to the mirror.

I curled up on my bed and laid my head on the pillow.

"Oh, no. Don't you dare. Get up right now. Keep moving. You can sleep tonight." She stood over me, hands on her hips.

I slogged through the end of the retreat. Two late nights had done me in. I did my best to shake hands and give out hugs, but mostly I hid behind my sunglasses and kept checking the time on my phone. Gina noticed and swatted my hand. I sighed, rubbing my temples.

I tried to keep an eye out for Jack. I had his sweatshirt draped over my arm and my eyes roved the crowd of people saying goodbye. I caught a glimpse of Jimmy and started over to see him. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Michael coming toward me. I grimaced and dove into a gaggle of people. I hoped Michael was on the hunt for someone else and doubled back to meet up with Gina.

"What was that about? Whose sweatshirt is that?" Her eyebrows were raised above her oversized sunglasses. The effect was comical.

"Bah. It's Jack's sweatshirt. He let me use it last night because I was cold. I saw Jimmy, so I was going to walk over and hand it off to him. On my way over, I caught a glimpse of Michael and didn't want to deal with him." I was glad for my sunglasses as I felt a catch in my throat and my eyes threatened to tear. I stroked my elbow absentmindedly as I told Gina the story about the night before.

"Wow. Jack saved your ass. Knowing you? My god, you would have ended up with a broken leg." She smiled wide and stepped back to avoid a swat on the arm.

"Shut up. I just didn't want to deal with him is all. Jack was a gentleman and now I've absconded with his sweatshirt."

"No one says absconded." She jutted out her hip and crossed her arms.

"Apparently, I do." I stuck my tongue out at her.

We gathered our things and made our way to the parking lot. After packing our things in her trunk, we rolled down the windows and turned up the music. I leaned my head back and let Jem, Vampire Weekend and Kimya Dawson wash over me. I loved Gina but was glad for a respite from talking.

I spent most of the car ride home trying to organize my thoughts about Michael. I closed my eyes and enjoyed a montage of shared moments. There had been some good things, but mostly it was glimmers of good in a thick, brambly forest of bad. I was grateful that I had figured it out in less than a year. It was frustrating to find myself so emotional about such a poor pairing. I tried to decide what was causing the hangup but the thought played at the outer ring of my thoughts, a mosquito buzzing in my ear.

I must have dozed off because Gina nudged me. I opened my eyes and realized we were parked in front of my building. I got out of the car and stretched, giving a big yawn. She walked around to the trunk and helped me grab my bag.

We gave each other a quick hug and promised to talk soon. I walked to the glass door and then stopped to grab my keys. I live above an ice cream store, downtown in a suburb that is Chicago in a microcosm. I only drive back and forth from work; otherwise, my car stays parked in my building's postage-stamp sized parking lot.

I fumbled at the door and waved to Gina over my shoulder. I set down my bag so I could check my mail, then draped my bag over my shoulder and thumbed through the mail as I walked upstairs. I let myself in and dropped my keys in the bowl by the door.

I loved my apartment. It was one bedroom with a galley kitchen and a generous living room. The kitchen didn't bother me since the extent of my culinary skills involved heavy use of my microwave. I had salvaged a couch from a tenant who had been moving out. A TV stand stood opposite the couch, overflowing with DVD cases. My one obsession--cinema.

Other than that the decor was mismatched. My kitchen table was a hand-me-down, as were the chairs. Neither matched but it didn't look bad. I crossed over to my bedroom and opened my closet door. I dumped the contents of my duffel bag into my laundry hamper, then turned off the light and closed the door. I groaned when I realized I was going to have to do laundry soon.

I glanced at the bed. It was inviting, my one splurge item. I loved sleep in the way some people enjoy good food. I had shopped for months, searching for the perfect mattress and bedding. Gina, a champion shopper, had actually grown tired of my pickiness. I didn't care. I wasn't going to be rushed.

I had pillows stacked haphazardly across the bed. I loved to burrow into them. This had been a point of contention with Michael. He loved to snuggle. I had a firm no-snuggle policy when it came time to sleep. He would insist and so I would lie there, watching the waning light from the streetlights play across the ceiling. I waited for the moment his breath regulated so I could slip out from underneath his arm and cross to the other side of the bed. I made the mistake of moving too soon on several occasions and had to endure his injured look as I rolled my eyes and pinned myself back under his arm.

My bed was beckoning me but I knew I couldn't lie down. Walter would be sad if I didn't go pick him up that day. I pictured his furry face and smiled. I decided to make an evening of it and stuffed my dirty laundry into a bag. I retraced my steps, grabbed my keys and locked the door. I waved to a neighbor as I started down the hall.

My car was not fancy but it got the job done. I did my best to keep up maintenance on it. The payoff was that the car functioned well and got me from point A to point B. I loved muscle cars but felt it impractical to have one without a garage.

I started off toward an adjacent suburb and my parent's house. Walter, my mutt of a dog, had bunked there for the weekend. My parents were so grateful that I had abandoned tequila that they were too happy to watch him on an occasional weekend. It gave me an excuse to see them and have a hot meal not baked in a microwave.

I turned into my parent's neighborhood and observed, for the millionth time, how easy it would be to mistake one house for the other. The houses were all variations on the brick bungalow. It wasn't the house of my youth. My parents downsized after I moved out. I was the youngest of three and they were relieved when I found the apartment. I loved the house they picked and the little square of grass that sat in front of it. I pulled up to the curb and sat for a minute, finishing my cigarette.

They didn't like my smoking. My dad had smoked for years and I had pointed out the hypocrisy. It didn't matter. I knew it was a nasty habit but better than a habit that caused me to wake up in strange places. They tacitly agreed to leave me alone about the smoking and I returned the favor by not smoking around them.

(To be continued...dinner has to be started.)

A Work of Fiction: Part 1

"Those things'll kill you, you know that?"

The sun was in my eyes but I knew who it was. I shook my head as I exhaled, a cloud of blue smoke trailing into the morning haze. He was wearing his lopsided grin and carrying two cups of coffee. As I studied him I could see my friend Gina walk up behind him, bleary-eyed. Once she realized who it was, she scurried back to our room.

I accepted the coffee, glad for something warm, and flicked ash off the side of the porch.

"Why are you up so early?" I asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Unlike you, I didn't stay up all night talking. I went to sleep at a reasonable hour and got up early. Chris and I went for a hike." He took a sip of coffee and brushed the smoke away with his hand.

I took a drag and leaned my head against his shoulder. "I was all set to go to bed. Had to have one more smoke before brushing my teeth. Ended up in a long-term conversation with some of the girls."

"Any of it about me?" The lopsided grin was back, his hazel eyes twinkling. Some of it had been but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

Jimmy and I had known each other for several years. He was someone new friends would frequently lust after. I could see it. Dirty blond hair, just shy of six feet, an easy smile and he was in decent shape. There had been a time, maybe, that I could have seen it but now he was more a brother than anything else.

Gina, on the other hand, would rather have been sucked into a wormhole than have him see her looking disheveled and freshly awakened. I shook my head just thinking about it.

"No, stupid, none of it about you. It was all important, meaningful conversation."

The reality was that it had mostly been fits of giggles, the four of us doubled over reliving painful memories. It seemed crazy that pain made us giggle but it worked. One of the girls, Shayna, had started off in tears and by the end her abs hurt from laughing so hard.

Jimmy took another sip of coffee, then made a motion to leave. I held his arm. "Don't leave. Just sit here until I wake up a bit."

He pointed to my smoke. "Put it out, then. The smoke is awful."

I crushed the rest of the cigarette into the steps, blowing one more steady stream of smoke into the morning. I half-stood and tossed my butt into the coffee can, which was already overflowing.

"Done." I sat back down next to him, cupping my coffee. The weather had started to change from languid to crisp. I relished this time of year, loved starting to add layers to my wardrobe. I wore a strict uniform of comfy jeans and t-shirts, sometimes punctuating my outfit with an oversized sweater. I never had been comfortable with the curves my body sprouted so I liked to keep bulky clothes on to hide things away.

I am not obese but I refuse to starve myself to lose the last 15 pounds. I lost a lot of weight but realized I hated fashion for the thin. I still wore jeans and t-shirts a size too big.

We were on a retreat that weekend, away from the suburbs but not away from civilization. I had planned to go for a run that morning but crashing at 3 AM meant my phone was abused for ringing the alarm at 7. I know it's foolish to smoke and run but I never do it at the same time.

Jimmy is the only one who laughs at that joke.

"I thought you quit smoking. I thought we went out for ice cream to celebrate that you were quit for 3 months." His voice whined a bit and he tried to disguise it with a cough. I knew he worried about me and it made me feel even guiltier for having started again.

"I did quit smoking. We did celebrate. Then that jerk...." My voice trailed off. I kicked the stairs for emphasis. "I figured it was the lesser of two evils that I pick these back up again."

The silence was strained. I knew he remembered the texts he got from me after Michael had left. (Michael, he insisted I couldn't call him Mike. I laughed when I first heard that until I realized his brown eyes were not.) He wasn't my usual type and I thought that was in his favor. We were on our third break-up. Ridiculous, I know. Very Sweet Valley High.

"I hope that's the last time I'll get those kind of texts from you." He was laser-focused on his coffee but I could see his jaw tighten. I rubbed his back, feeling his muscles tense.

"I hope so, too," I said quietly, staring off into the distance. "I hope so, too."

We sat there for a few moments, our knees touching, my hand on his back. More people started pouring out of their rooms. I didn't know how to fill up the silence, so I sipped my coffee and played with my pack of smokes.

Gina reappeared, looking more like she normally did; hair done, make-up in place, jeans and a t-shirt. We even each other out because she usually wears clothes that accentuate the curves she has. It works for her, really. She and I had known each other since we both dried out. We both had brown hair and eyes but other than that we looked nothing alike. We really would never have been friends before, we say that all the time. When she talks about what she was like, I am certain I would have kicked her skinny ass multiple times.

She walked up to us wearing a huge smile. "Good morning, guys, how are you doing?" I was pretty sure Jimmy knew she was trying too hard but to his credit he let it go.

"Good morning, Gina," he said, unbending his legs and standing up. I followed suit.

"Morning, Gina. Don't you look lovely this morning." My voice was syrupy and it had the effect I wanted--Gina turned a bright crimson. Her eyes narrowed as Jimmy turned to look at me.

"I'll see you later. Hope we end up in breakout groups together." I watched him walk away, then realized Gina was watching me.

"You're such a bitch." She punched me in the arm as we started walking toward the mess hall. We fell into step together, listening to the crunch of leaves beneath our feet. "Why do you have to torture me?"

"Because it's fun and because you're ridiculous. If you want, I can ask him after study hall if he likes you." I took a wide step away from her to avoid being punched again.

We ate breakfast in silence, both of us trying to wake up and knock the cobwebs loose. Other women sat down at our table and we participated in conversation in monosyllabic tones. I have never enjoyed mornings, though to be fair usually I had still been out when morning was breaking.

It had been bizarre to see dawn sober. The first time was with Jimmy, at another retreat. We started sharing our stories and then started talking about our families. I had fought back yawns until I looked at my phone and realized it was almost five in the morning. I remember startling, thinking I had to hurry home. He laughed at me, reminding me that I wasn't in trouble and hadn't blacked out. Sheepishly, I sat back down and we watched the sun start to peek out over the treeline.

I had seen other sunrises, mostly with Michael, mostly after long nights of arguing and talking. I am still not sure why I had thought it would work with him. I felt like I had something to prove. I had serially dated before I met him. I am snobbish when it comes to men. They must have an advanced handle on the English language, they have to have an extensive knowledge of indie rock, they must have a steady paying job (musicians were out by default) and they must have a sense of humor.

I let Michael slide on a few categories. I convinced myself I was being too elitist. It had been pointed out to me, first by my sponsor and then by Gina that the list of men who met those criteria was minuscule. I agreed to go out on a date with Michael almost as a dare.

He hadn't been all bad but the good stuff was few and far between. I'm not self-loathing but I am an optimist, so I stuck with him thinking I would miss the good stuff if I left too soon. I realized I didn't like myself when I went back to him the third time. There was no good reason. I was horny and he was there. I ran into him at the grocery store and we both abandoned our carts to go to my place.

It was the worst feeling, waking up in bed next to him stone cold sober. I couldn't blame my poor judgement on the drink because there hadn't been any. I made a mental note to take more cold showers and watch fewer hot male celebrities on TV and in films.

I think we both knew it had been a royal mistake. The man had no sense of humor to speak of, his texts were full of errors and he had fallen asleep during a performance of Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros. It was more than I could handle.

It got ugly that time, though, as we sat across from each other in my breakfast nook. I had made scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast (I figured it was the least I could do). We spoke in clipped sentences, the words falling hard and flat between us.

What killed me was that he had trolled for me. He let it slip that he had broken up with someone and in his sorrow went to the grocery store, knowing I would be there. It wasn't kismet, as I had stupidly thought. It was desperation and I was so pissed that I hadn't smelled it on him.

It was more than I could handle and I kicked him out before he could finish his coffee. I threw his boot at the wall opposite my door for emphasis. I slid down the door after I slammed it and started sobbing. I hate to cry and I hated that I was crying over such a stupid man.

Jimmy texted me a half-hour later. I had already been out to buy cigarettes and was sitting on my balcony when I got the message. I texted him back and we made plans to go out to dinner that night to chat. He ended up spending the night, insisting after I broke down in tears because the restaurant was out of feta cheese. He tucked me in and I heard him stretch out on my couch.

It was a weak moment and I almost called out to him. I was lonely and sad and wanted affection. It took all my remaining energy to quash the urge. I knew that wasn't fair to him or to me.

I contemplated all of this as I nibbled on a piece of toast and studied him across the cafeteria. He caught me staring and half-waved.

"C'mon, Gina, let's go have a smoke." I looked at Gina and then realized she had been in the middle of a conversation. I sat back down, feeling my face start to burn. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were talking."

"I'll be there in a minute, " she said, flicking her eyes toward a slight woman sitting at her side.

I gathered up our plates and headed up to the counter. I sorted everything into it's receptacle, then fished in my sweater pocket for my smokes and lighter. I headed outside, put a cigarette to my lips and flicked my lighter.

I sat on a picnic table and smoked, watching people exit the mess hall. Some of them smiled and waved. I waved back, inhaling every once in a while. The sun had started warming up and I slid my sweater off, laying it across my lap. I looked up to see Michael walking toward me. I did my best to study the pills on my sweater but my ears started turning red.

"Hi, Hannah." His voice was soft but it made my muscles tense.

I looked away. "Hello, Michael." I put out my cigarette and stood up.

I had known he was going to be here. I had talked extensively to Gina about it and decided I wasn't going to let him being there keep me away. This is why I had wanted her to come with me and why I insisted that Jimmy sit with me that morning. I was terrified that I would start crying. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

"How are you doing?" He cocked his head and put his hand on my arm. My stomach dropped and started churning. I wanted to light another cigarette but didn't want to signal I was anxious.

I wasn't sure how to answer his question. I still didn't completely understand why I had been so upset by our break-up. I was frustrated that my emotions were all out of whack. I felt like some lovelorn teenager and there wasn't really any reason. We weren't compatible. It wasn't his fault, it was mine. I was stupid, I was vulnerable, I let my hormones rule. I tried to brush off his hand while wracking my brain for a good response.

"Um, I'm okay. Been busy with work. Tried to make sure I was all caught up before I headed up here. I wanted to make sure I didn't have any outstanding issues before I left. I mean, outstanding work issues. Work. I didn't want to have work on my mind." Fantastic. Rather than sounding confident I sounded like a nervous teenager. It was as if I was walking into a lake and discovered a steep drop-off. All of a sudden I was flailing my arms and gasping for air. Wonderful.

He let his fingers slip a bit and I took the opportunity to take a step back, forgetting that the picnic table was just behind me. I toppled backwards and ended up falling on my ass, scraping my elbow on the table on the way down.

Luckily, before he could swoop in to save me Jimmy strode up to the table. I could tell that he wanted to laugh but was biting his lip to stop himself. I made eye contact as a way to plead with him to save me.

"All right, lady, on your feet." He pulled me up and nudged Michael out of the way all at the same time. I could've kissed him.

Michael attempted to intervene but Jimmy manhandled me away. I stopped him twenty feet away so I could inspect my elbow and brush the leaves and debris off my butt. It wasn't until I looked up again that I realized he was silently shaking.

"Oh, laugh it up creep! I can't believe you're laughing at my pain." My emotions were twisted and I fought back tears. I knew it was funny but my ego had suffered more than my elbow. My pride was trying to convince me to stomp off but I reached out and punched him instead. I winced and this just made him laugh harder.

"Hannah, seriously, you can't fault me for this. I come walking out of the cafeteria and all I see is you falling ass first off the picnic table. I knew I had to save you from him but I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud."

I pouted. "Blah. Asshole cornered me. I was trying to act cool and I end up falling on my ass."



(Okay, I'm not sure where this is going but I will have to continue it another night.)

Keep on Keeping On...

Ugh, how have 8 days gone by since my last post? It was a very emotional week this past week. As well, I have been fighting exhaustion. Every time I wanted to post, it was a post v. fight sleep and sleep won every time.

I am continuing to de-clutter, room by room. Currently I'm at my PC and am working on de-cluttering the office. You may recall that I started this project some time ago. I am still working on it, but am frustrated by how slow the progress has been. My scrapbooking corner is still buried. I am hopeful that I will have it cleared out by my anniversary (May 29).

Other than that, life has been pretty uneventful. The kids are on spring break this week. I am a little apprehensive about having them all around 24/7. I feel like this is a summer break preview. We don't have a lot of activities planned. I am hoping that my gas consumption will be next to nothing. This means I will save about $60. May not seem like a lot, but it's actually a lot of money to us. I enjoy my van but it's tough to gas it up. We are fortunate that it takes E85 gasoline, but lately even E85 prices have been rising.

I know we'll have a couple of playdates. I am planning on seeing my trainer Wednesday morning. My lovely neighbor girl, Lauren, will be spending a couple of hours with the kiddos so I can go see Kate. She and I have had a gap in seeing each other. There has been illness on each ends and just general scheduling conflicts. I suspect I'll be very sore by the end of this week and that's okay with me.

I just found out that my DH, Brian, will be off on Friday. We are going to be visiting Kohl Children's Museum that day with my parents, which should be a lot of fun. The kids always have a blast when we go.

I am sure the week will fly by. We actually talked about going to Washington, D.C. on spring break in the future. It's one of those places I really loved visiting as a kid. Lots of stuff to see and do. It probably won't be for another few years, but it's something to look forward to I suppose.

Well, off to de-clutter, do laundry and generally be a mom!

The Wedding that Was

I know from experience that expectations are just premeditated resentments. It never fails. I always set myself up in the worst way. 

I was dreading the wedding today. I wasn't wrong to dread it, but it didn't go as poorly as I thought. Thankfully, my brother's was the only wedding happening. That gave us pretty free reign over the place. There was a set of stairs leading to a trio of bridal suites. That gave the kids something to do-climb the stairs and run in and out of the rooms. (As an aside, I only got slightly peeved when a judgemental person chided me for letting the kids do that. I was peeved because two of the kids running around were not mine. Somehow I got blamed for their behavior. I've got enough on my plate-I'm not going to be held responsible for someone else brats. Meanwhile, what the heck else are kids going to do to keep occupied at a wedding where nothing is really happening? Oh, the blissful ignorance of those who parent but have no children.)

We were aiming to arrive at around 11 for pictures. We got there around 1130. Bekah and Jeremy were pretty cooperative but Doug was having none of it. The photographer wanted him to stand in front of my brother and his wife. I convinced her that wasn't going to happen. 

I believe she got one shot of him looking at the camera. In the rest of the shots, he is writhing to get free. As we were taking pictures, my parents, grandma and uncle arrived. My brother was hoping for a picture of all of us but Doug took off and I was off after him. (We never did take a picture of all of us.)

Mealtime was a challenge. I had hoped for a high hair for Doug but no dice. He doesn't even sit still to eat meals at our house. The high chair would have at least allowed Brian and I to eat hot food. 

It was a buffet brunch. Pretty decent array of food. I had to go through the line once for Jeremy and Bekah, once for me. Then I asked my Dad to watch Doug for a bit so Brian could eat (which he graciously did). 

The problem was that my mom and dad are struggling with the same illness I am. They are just as beat as I am. My dad made it through the dessert line and was done. He handed Doug back off to us. The chase started again. Up the stairs, down the stairs. Into the bridal suites, out of the bridal suites. 

It was the second time he got stuck under the settee that we realized we were done. The first time, his shirt got snagged on something. The second, it was his head. No joke. The child's head is huge. 

Then, to top it off, Bekah started not listening. It's one thing to deal with Jeremy and Doug being unruly. We can handle that (though it's exhausting), as long as she's behaving. Once she starts to melt down, it expends the remaining reserves of energy we have. 

We had both been waiting for the dancing to start. We thought maybe that would keep our people engaged. The problem was it was taking forever to get to the dancing. In the meantime, I guess my brother's bride wanted pictures of the tables. She summoned us back to the room but started at table 1. We were at table 9 (of 9). Brian quickly gave up trying to keep the kids in place. I don't blame him. 

It was shortly after that when the settee trapped Doug's head and we called it a day. On our way out Bekah through a tantrum (which just confirmed for us that we were making the right decision). 

On our way out, we noticed a minivan with it's door open. There was no one around it, so I decided to close the door. When I did, I saw that they had two screens attached to the seats. I got concerned and we decided to stop back in and let someone know the doors were unlocked. 

Let me set the scene. My 5-year-old is throwing a fit because she can't see my brother and his wife dance. My 6-year-old is throwing a fit because I won't let him play on my iPhone. My 2-year-old is fussy because it's past naptime. 

I have a license plate number scribbled hastily on the back of a coupon. I am literally going to run back into the banquet hall, give the note to my dad and run out. 

I have seen my grandma but have purposely avoided her. Actually, every time we have made eye contact I've had to chase after one of my brood. 

So of course, as I'm running the license plate number in, she chooses to say (in her most pitiful and guilt-laden face and tone), "Sue, can't you sit down and talk with me?" 

Really, lady? Really? I pictured my family in the van. I told her of the scene in the van. I shrugged my shoulders, threw up my hands and hurried back out. 

The thing that's toughest about my grandma is that I would be her if I didn't work so hard not to be. I am judgemental, self-centered and selfish. It would be so easy to give myself over to that, but then I would be like her-shunned and turned away from everyone with whom I'm close. (This is actually the case with my grandma. She is persona non grata at most people's houses.)

So I work hard, every day, to be selfless, to be kind, to work on being the kind of person Christ wants me to be. I don't feel like I owe her anything. I have tried to be kind to her, to correspond with her, to talk with her. It almost always ends poorly. 

At what point is it insanity on my part to keep trying? At what point is it healthier for me to just stay away, to stop trying, to just accept her for what she is and simultaneously stay away. Not out of anger but out of a desperate need for self-protection. I make it a point to stay away from toxic people. She is toxic. 

So there you go. Tomorrow it's two birthday parties, separate ones, at the same time. I'm going to one with Jeremy, Brian with Bekah. I'm pretty sure we'll need another weekend just to recover. 

Three Kids and a Wedding

I am cursing children and their germs this week. I started off the week with a lot of promise. I went running, I wasn't napping as much, I spent a lot of focused time with Bekah. Wednesday started with a little tickle and a run-down feeling. 

Meanwhile, Doug started having some congestion, a cough and general crabbiness. I woke up Thursday with a full-blown illness. Diagnosis today was sinusitis (as it generally is) and antibiotics. I didn't get much sleep last night. 

I awoke this morning feeling awful. The tough thing is that moms don't get sick days. Even more, the second part of my brother's wedding is tomorrow. I am very stressed about this. 

Weddings are supposed to be happy. I am ecstatic for my brother and his bride. She's a lovely person. They are going to enjoy a long, happy marriage. 

Weddings, though, are tricky for kids with sensory issues. Jeremy is aware (I suspect my parents talked with him) that there are going to be a lot of people there. He is also aware that the noise level is going to be high. These two factors together are going to be tough for him. 

We tend to avoid noise and crowds. What isn't noisy to is unbearable to him. Lots of people pressing on him is really tough for him to bear. By extension, it's tough for us. 

Doug is also tough in these situations. I have started calling him the perpetual motion machine. He is very seldom willing to sit still for long anywhere. Even at home, it's rare for him to sit on my lap, at the table, with a toy. He is constantly walking around, climbing, exploring. 

Going out in public basically means one of us has to constantly chase him. No chance for conversation, no chance to sit and enjoy company/food/entertainment. It makes it easy to decide to just stay home most of the time. 

We can't skip the wedding, though. We have to go. We've known about it for a couple of months. I am glad to go, but I know I'm going to be exhausted. 

The problem is that I'm already exhausted. My body aches, my head is full of fluid. Brian has had it up to here with the kids. I get that because I end up there a lot, too. 

I had plans to see my personal trainer tomorrow, early. I've cancelled the plans. I am planning to turn in early. I will be as prepared as I can be. I am only hoping for surviving, not thriving. We are supposed to take some pictures. I am keeping expectations low. 

The one wild card is my grandma. My maternal grandmother is my only surviving grandparent. I have blogged about her before. She is not kind, not warm, not fuzzy. 

I got a call from my mom and when I returned it, she put me on with my grandma. I then was asked if I would stop by with the kids. Again, I'm not well and Doug's not well. I have three kids. We don't "stop by." It's almost always a three-ring circus. I knew the kids weren't going to be happy enough to see her. I knew I wasn't going to be thin enough for her (that really happens). 

So I begged off. I didn't invite her--it's not my wedding. My brother wanted her here and so he can deal with her. I am excited to see her tomorrow, in a big crowd, while chasing after Doug and calming Jeremy down. Glancing blows. That's the best way to encounter my grandma. 

If you're so inclined, prayers are appreciated. I'll have a full report tomorrow night. 

Products I Love: Norwex

I am trying very hard to blog more frequently. I realize that I do have a readership. I am also, as a woman/mom, uniquely qualified to recommend products to my readers (who may or may not be women or moms). 

I'm going to be doing these product reviews intermittently-don't be worried that I'll only be promoting items from now on. As well, I will be clear as to whether or not I'm personally vested in promoting the times (e.g., because I'm a sales rep for said product). Hopefully, this information will be helpful. 

The first product I love is anything by Norwex. Norwex is a direct marketing company similar to Tupperware or Tastefully Simple. I have attended a few parties, including one at my house. 

The products pictured are the envirocloth (costs about $40), dryer balls (about $20) and detergent (about $20). They had a catalogue full of products for both the home and personal use. 

We are a single-income family, so I am constantly searching for things that will add value to our family and save resources. One of the recurring expenses that was adding up was Swiffer. 

I have two dogs and three kids. My house is messy without my kids working too hard. Very specifically, there is dog hair everywhere. I used Swiffer for a long time on the floors. I honestly thought it was a pretty decent deal. 

The problem was two-fold. First, the actual mops were flimsy. I bought the Swiffer Wet-Jet and used it for only a couple of months before it broke. I was then stuck with leftover pads and solution and would have been forced to buy a whole new mop. 

I had the same problem with the basic Swiffer-my kids love to "help" me and before you know it, the thing bent and broke in half. I purchased a starter kit 3 different times and each one broke. 

Meanwhile, cleaning my toilets, sinks, counters, etc., is a non-stop job. That meant 3 or 4 different cleaners, all with major chemicals, rubber gloves and fighting off the kid's attempts to help. Most of the time, I developed headaches from the harsh smells. 

The greener option (cleaners with less chemicals) seemed great, except that it was still a recurring expense and the expense was greater because the products were greener. Not viable for my family. 

Okay, some friends said, here are some ways to make homemade cleaners. Fantastic, except there was the smell again (not to mention I never understood the measurements-one part...what does that mean?). 

When my friend invited me to a party, I didn't have money to spend on the products. I took one look at the prices and started to shut down. The demonstration, however, changed my mind. 

First of all, the envirocloth is a microfiber cloth with silver threads. This makes it antibacterial. Second, you only use water with these cloths. Only water!! Yippee! No more recurring expenses or well-timed trips to the store. No more chemicals. No more cryptic recipes. Just water. I wouldn't have to fight anyone off when cleaning. No hauling a bunch of cleaners around. 

We were all handed a small mirror and a pat of butter. We smeared the butter on the mirror. Using only the envirocloth (and the polishing cloth, which I own but can't find right now), we cleaned the butter off the mirror and made it shine-no streaks. She repeated the process on my friend's window. 

Needless to say, I was hooked. She also demonstrated the floor mop (same type of cloth, just bigger and used with a sturdier version of the basic Swiffer mop handle), duster and dryer balls. 

The dryer balls are not a new product, but Norwex's version is better. My friend had a pair of dryer balls purchased at BBB. She threw those in her dryer and turned it on. They were obnoxiously loud. Then she threw the Norwex dryer balls into the dryer. The noise level was much-reduced. 

The Norwex dryer balls are a teeny bit "squishy" (think dog toys without the squeak). This allows them to dry clothes faster. I had been using the Bounce bar, but again this was a recurring expense and involved chemicals. I knew if I bought the Norwex dryer balls, I could eliminate both of the detractors of the Bounce bar. 

Please note, if you enjoy the fragrance from the dryer sheets, you're out of luck. There is no fragrance. I never really cared for the smell, so that wasn't a deal-breaker for me. All the same, it's something important to know.

The last product I bought was the detergent. The envirocloth needs to be washed in detergent that is phosphate-free and has no dyes or perfumes. I already used Tide Free and Clear, but it didn't eliminate all of the "yuck." 

It seems crazy to spend $20 on such a small bag of detergent. I will tell you, I bought the detergent in November and there is still plenty left. The reason? I use one TEASPOON of the product per load of laundry. 

You read that right. One teaspoon. I will use 1 1/2 for a particularly soiled load, but mostly I use only 1 teaspoon. I also use the detergent (mixed with water) as a stain remover. I have had two specific instances where Bekah and Brian got food on themselves. Using only this solution (and with a smidge of elbow grease), the stains disappeared. This eliminated the recurring stain remover expense (and chemicals). 

I have soaked things in a solution of detergent and water to get rid of the smell. I also soak my envirocloth every month or so, just for a deep cleaning. (Usually all that's necessary is to rub the cloth against itself, wring it out and hang it up to dry.)

The envirocloth has a warranty of two years. If the cloth wears out before two years are up, Norwex will replace the cloth. I know this happens because the demonstrator who did my party had hers wear out in seven months. (To be fair, she lives on a farm and used hers to clean out the apple-cleaning machine they use for their apple-tree farm.)

I had a party myself back in November. It was a small party and so I wasn't able to receive the floor system or dusting system that I wanted to. They also have cloths that you use to bathe yourself without using soap. Crazy, but it works. 

I am probably going to have a party in April, in honor of spring cleaning. If you're interested in attending or ordering something (and are friends with me on Facebook), let me know. I'll make sure to extend an invite. 

I hope you enjoyed my review!!

Chariots Drawn by Leaden Legs (The Lesser-Known Sequel)

Monday after the time change is killer. The only thing that made it palatable today was that it was 45 degrees outside. I saw at least 6 or more people out running and riding their bikes today. 

I decided I should, as well, take advantage of the nice weather. I haven't run since early November. I have, however, done strength training, worked out to DVDs and otherwise been active. 

You could've fooled my legs. 

I started off okay but realized partway down Golf Course Road that my legs had almost completely forgotten how to run. I made it to a mile and a quarter and then just had to acquiesce to the idea that my body wasn't going to cooperate. 

It was pretty humbling, I'm not going to lie. It doesn't mean I am going to give up-I'm not-but I am glad I didn't already sign up for a 10K or anything. I could possibly make it to the end of a 5K, but I would probably be crawling over the finish line. 

Now, the blessing is that I started running sooner this year than I did last. This means I have more time to improve, which is fantastic. I have a secret dream to run a half-marathon and I'm thinking there's an outside chance I could do that this year. 

We shall see. 

In other news, I have now cleared several boxes and bags in my 40 days, 40 bags mission. I am going to be making quite a huge drop-off at Saver's sometime soon. 

Today's bag got filled because I was looking for the blu-Ray remote control. That thing keeps walking off. Super annoying, especially in the era where machines cannot be operated sans remotes. We scoured the TV room last night looking for it. No joy. 

The last time we lost it, it showed up on the floor of the toy room randomly. All of this harkens back to my childhood. There is a random scene on repeat, where my dad or mom or brother or I were constantly searching for the remote. 

We joked about taping it to a 2 X 4 but never did. I have half a mind to actually do it....if I ever find the damn thing. 

A Continuing Saga

Well, day 5 of my "40 bags in 40 days" challenge. Yesterday was the fun fair, so I was too tired to hit it. Today, two bags to make up the difference. 

I chose to tackle my master bedroom closet today. It's been a mess for what seems like a year. It's still too full. I am struggling with letting go of clothes. I am continuing to lose weight but am self-conscious of my body. The sizes I should be wearing seem to be too snug on me. 

I decided today to give away a few t-shirts. I tried on a few more. I am going to give myself a few more months for some of the short-sleeved t-shirts. I figure a few months of focused a work may make me less self-conscious and trim, which should help with the fit. 

The happiest news is that I found a bathing suit. I had worn one last summer to the point of disintigration. I needed to get a new one but of course money is always promised elsewhere. I keep seeing my old bathing suit in the laundry room. I didn't want to throw it away yet, but it's embarrassing to wear to the local beach. 

So I think it's particularly cool that following my heart and convicted by God to declutter and simplify, I found something I actually need but didn't even realize I had. All I can say is yay. 

An Apple Today

This is today's reward. Today was emotionally stressful. Most are, if I'm honest with myself. 

It started this morning. I took baked French toast for my MOPS group. I haven't made it in a while, so I forgot how it looks when it's done. The recipe said to cook it for 30 minutes. I kept increasing it and then I panicked because it looked overdone. 

MOPS was a blast. I left to join some of the moms for a play date, except that I had no gas or cash (today is payday). So I had to go to the bank and gas station beforehand. 

I had fun at the play date, but in the back of my mind I was panicking because I was expecting a service person today. 

My oven door has been broken for several months. At random (usually inopportune times), the handle falls off and the door falls apart (like into pieces). It's been driving me nuts for a while. 

I finally called someone and they were coming out today between 1 and 5. Great. Except that I realized they were using my home number to confirm that I was home. 

We left Burger King for home. Now it's nap time, but I don't want to put Doug down for a nap if someone's going to be banging around. So we hang out for a bit. 

Now it's 2:30, I've not heard from anyone and I'm panicking that the appointment is going to interfere with Bekah's 530 dance class. This is, of course, a thought I should have entertained yesterday. 

So I called Sears to cancel. Sure, they said. Monday afternoon okay? Sure. Great. 

I go get Jeremy and we run to the gas station and the butcher. Then it's time to head home and get Bekah ready for dance class. Great. 

5 PM, Bekah's hair is in a pony, her dance clothes are on. Doug has a clean diaper, we are ready. 

And the doorbell rings. It's the service guy. He apparently never got the call. 

Nervously, I usher him in. The panic sets in pretty quickly. I text Brian, whom I know is not in a position to intervene and/or help. I then text a mom friend in a moment of genius. She is able to pick Bekah up (we're on the way to dance class for her). 

Sigh. I am at least not having to chase Doug around at dance class, yay. This mom is my hero. 

Alas, though, the play date meant I couldn't grocery shop until 7, when Brian got home. 

I am currently on a sweets hiatus. Really I've significantly pared back, so I didn't want to eat the leftover baked French toast (which is basically syrup, butter, eggs and bread). There was not anything else in the house to eat. 

Hence the picture. It has become a recent habit to grab a couple of bags M&Ms at the checkout. I am even more prone to do it when under stress. 

I was stressed tonight. To the max. But nothing changes if nothing changes, so tonight I texted my accountability partner and called my friend Cheryl. I took a few deep breaths. I bought my planned dessert for tomorrow, left it in the box and am now eating...

an apple. 

So tomorrow while I may be worn-out from the extra emotion of today, I won't be feeling guilty for having overindulged. 

Yay me. 

Let it Go

They say the only time you fail is when you stop trying. Along that vein, I have joined a FB group entitled "40 bags in 40 days" (I'm just now realizing the 40 days means Lent). The goal is to declutter a bag a day for 40 days. I actually started Monday by grabbing a few things out of our closet. 

Today's effort is the bag (nevermind the dog). It is recycling, a collection of toys and paper goods that have been floating around. 

I have a bit of an obsession with decluttering. I have been trying for years as well to fight the excess in our lives. Even though times have been tough for a long stretch, I am amazed by how much crap our house contains. 

It's such a first-world problem to be obsessed with decluttering. I get that. My MOPS group is doing a book day and I decided to read Jen Hatmaker's book 7: A Mutiny on Excess. I've not read it yet (I opted to read The Book Thief and Bones of the Lost first), but it reflects where my heart is. 

To illustrate, I've had the idea for a book for about half a year. I want to do a book about my weight-loss journey. I have it in my head that I can't write the book until I have a laptop. Really?!?! This is my criteria for using my talents, that I need more "stuff" to be able to do it well? Ridiculous. 

I need to sit my butt at the PC and get down to it. The point is that even in the struggle, I want more. It twists my stomach. I don't like materialism or consumerism, but I swim in the stream along with everyone else. 

Between this and cutting back on my sugar intake, I'm gonna be one skinny, organized bitch come summertime. 

Awards Season

I know it's been a while since I've blogged. Is been struggling to fit it into my schedule. I feel like I'm either on my way to a therapy appointment, at a therapy appointment or talking about a therapy appointment. It's all good and my boys are making great progress. Meanwhile, I'm physically and emotionally spent almost all the time. 

But I had to share this. 

Tonight was AWANA. I wrote last August about our inaspicious beginning at AWANA. Since then, things have improved but Jeremy has still struggled. It got to the point where Brian and I were ready to pull him from it. 

That wasn't an easy decision to make. I grew up being told you never quit anything. Even if I was miserable, I finished the season (sports or otherwise). 

The truth was, though, that Jeremy was miserable and it was heinous to convince him to go. Today I told him that Brian and I had decided he could quit if he wanted to. 

I was flabbergasted when he told me he wanted to go. "Even if you can't wear your hat," I asked as we walked away from the school. "Yes," he replied, without skipping a beat. 

The hat is tricky for Jeremy. He loves his hat. He wears his hat at all moments outside of school and the bathtub. It's really more of a security blanket than a hat. 

He has grown accustomed to not wearing his hat at school. He doesn't fight it. He even yesterday agreed to wear a winter hat under his "table hat" (his words for his baseball cap) so that his ears wouldn't be cold. AWANA is tricky because it's towards bedtime (which is when he starts to unravel). It's also after he's taken a break from it for school. 

Two weeks ago, he really struggled at AWANA. Last week we kept him home because he had three nosebleeds at school. Seriously, this kid is kind of a mess. 

So it was huge that he a) wanted to attend and b) was agreeable about not wearing his hat. I let him lead and off we went. 

I had a great conversation about him with the commander, Deb. She let me know that they are trying to find him a special friend, someone to give him a nudge or refocus him from time to time. 

It was so cool to see God show up like that. It is tough to explain Jeremy to people who don't know him. I feel like I tried to help everyone understand him, but now they really do get him. And even more, they want to meet him where he is. 

I love it. It's fantastic. It makes my heart so happy that they want to accommodate him. 

So now the picture. They did AWANA Olympics tonight. Everyone got a medal. I have no idea and don't care what any of the rest of them said. There is no prouder momma than I right now. Most improved is really, in my opinion, the best award they could have handed out. 

I am not proud because I don't feel like I had anything to do with it. I am joyful because they could have kicked him out but didn't. I know some places do that. I am grateful that they have taken the time to get to know him. I am grateful that I didn't let him quit before the miracle happened. 

(Please note, he still had a meltdown tonight but it was only one and it didn't halt the whole evening. Progress not perfection.)