Zip It

I say all the time that I have no self-control. And I've always accepted that as true. Because let's be honest, restraint has never been my strength. 

But I've discovered something. I do have self-control. Amazing, incredible self-control! 

I know this because I've managed to keep the bitchy little thoughts that are in my head from escaping. And that's no easy feat.

Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be watching tv when the person next to you starts a loud phone conversation? And just keeps talking on and on and on...and it isn't so much the fact that they're over there yapping, it's the stuff they're talking about that really drives me nuts. Because believe me, I don't want to hear the stupid little drama - it wears me out.  So I have to try to mentally block it out, and that just makes my head hurt. 

And when I asked for the remote and made a big production of turning up the volume (yeah, I'm not above making such an obvious passive aggressive move) she only starting talking louder! I was SO annoyed.  And I couldn't politely ask her to leave the room because it wouldn't have come out polite at all.  In fact, what I really wanted to say may have made my grandma blush.

Since I was too annoyed to say it nicely, I didn't say anything. I got myself in check and refrained.

So see, somewhere in the depths of my soul I do have the ability to control myself.

Good to know.

Now if I could have the opportunity to channel that for something other than maintaining family relations...

Givin In & Pullin Up

No lunch run for me today. Mondays are always challenging because it’s so hectic getting everyone up and around after the weekend so I try to make sure I have my gym bag packed Sunday night so I can just grab it and go. Most the time that works.

I was out of the house almost all day Saturday so I got behind on laundry (shocking I know) so the last load I threw in last night had all my gym stuff in it.  I was determined to get everything ready.  I even woke up extra early this morning to put them in the dryer.

But I still didn’t make it out of the house with any of my stuff. I didn’t forget – I just didn’t have time.  I was upstairs putting on my shoes while the husband was barking at me from the front door that I was making everyone late, that we had to go RIGHT NOW! He would have thrown a fit if he had to wait on me to get my stuff gathered up.  Seriously, he’s hardcore.  Very much like a drill sergeant.  And most the times I find that extremely attractive, just not when it’s directed at me.

But I’m not complaining about him at all – I’m actually very thankful.  He’s the reason we get out of the house on time and he keeps us all on track. And I know that isn’t a fun job. He could probably tone it down a notch but it’s hard to get those A personality types to relax about anything and he’s super, super uptight about being on time. If he’s not 10 minutes early, then he’s late.  And then the poor guy married me.

So I knew I wasn’t going to be able to run today. So why then did I decide to eat chocolate? And not just any chocolate, but this:

That little bitty chocolate has as many calories as an entire candy bar!  And I have no way to work those calories off. So that kinda stinks.  It was really, really good though. But I’m not sure it was good enough to be worth it.

And yes, I knew exactly how  many calories it had before I ate it...but I've had that sack of chocolates for 15 days. It has dark chocolates, milk chocolates and even white chocolates. And unfortunately, I like them all.  Kinda like the guys I've dated -completely different but with equally appealing qualities.

So they've been sitting there this entire time and today I finally caved.  Though the fact that they've lasted this long and I only had one shows incredible restraint. Seriously, people - that was an exercise in willpower.

The problem is, I shouldn't even have those chocolates in the first place. But I am surrounded by wonderful people who enjoy doing sweet things for me and want to lavish  me with gifts. And who am I to turn that down, right?


And I’m having major wardrobe malfunctions today.  I’ve got on this open sweater and it won’t stay closed.  Here is what it is supposed to look like:

It’s probably a little tacky to post a picture of my chest, but it’s not supposed to be of my chest – it’s suppose to be of my sweater. So you can see what I'm talking about. So ignore the fact that this picture includes my boobs and just focus on the sweater.

So the left side of this stinkin sweater keeps opening, like slipping down off my chest so you can see the top part of my bra. At least my bra is black and grey, so it kinda blends. Still, it’s annoying that I have to keep tugging it up.

So I’m starting off my week devouring decadent chocolate and flashing innocent people, what about you?

Give Me Patience

I need prayers. Lots and lots of prayers. I'm trying so hard to be good about this living arrangement but it just isn't working.

I had a huge long rant typed up but it got lost - I tried to post it but it just disappeared. I'm taking that as a sign that I shouldn't be complaining, that I should open my heart and be kind and patient and full of love.

But the thing is, I'm not. I'm full of...just ugliness.  I'm trying to fake my way through it and remind myself that I need to try to be a better person.  That hasn't done anything to actually make me a better person, it just makes me feel bad that I'm not already.

But beyond all the little irrational petty annoyances that I have, I worry about what my kids are learning.  I have a whole list of things that have bothered me but perhaps one of the more frustrating was when she told my girls that they should never start smoking because then boys wouldn't like them.

NO! DO NOT DO THAT! Don't condition my children to make decisions based on the acceptance of other people! They should never start smoking because it's highly addictive and detrimental to their health - it has nothing to do with getting a boy to like them! And no decision that they make ever should!

Look, I like men. I really, really do. I'm not some crazy feminist who think men are evil. Because I don't, I really do love men and appreciate them.  But the reality is that young girls are conditioned by society to live their lives seeking approval - sometimes from each other but mostly from men. We're trained to believe that gaining attention/affection/love from a man is the ultimate goal. So we have young girls starving themselves so they can be skinny enough to be considered attractive. Young girls in inappropriate, revealing clothing. Young girls competing and feeling threatened by each other.  Young girls sleeping with boys because they naively believe it will make them love her.

Young girls who are unhappy, unfulfilled, and desperate. 

I want my girls to live for themselves. I want them to make decisions that are good for them - regardless of what people think. I want them to be strong, independent, and secure. I want them to have standards, self-respect and boundaries. I want them to understand that they are enough - that they are whole and complete. 

So it's difficult having an influence that doesn't share those expectations. And it's not just one comment, it's an entire mindset demonstrated by a series of poor life choices. Which has resulted in a revolving door of men and two children born to two men who were never willing to do anything more than take money and make a visit to the bedroom. And that mindset, the neediness and willingness to do anything to keep a man, is evident in everything. So it's not just one comment - it spills into a lot of responses.

I know that ultimately, the influence is small. But I hate that the seed has even been planted.

So we're looking at sometime after the holidays before I get my life back. That's a long time to go without privacy. A long time to battle annoyances. And a long time supporting someone.

Thankfully, I get Thursday nights to myself. I appreciated alone time before but it's on a whole new level now. I never thought I would be so happy to just be alone and have my own space.  It's like Christmas - I wake up excited that it's a Thursday.

And today I get to have a Saturday alone with the girls. Hubby took his sister to work with him. I think he could tell I was tipping the scales towards cranky. I don't know, maybe the fact that last night I hissed "Your sister is seriously getting on my nerves." might have tipped him off.

So, I'm going to enjoy this day. Not because I have big plans, but just because I can.

Boom

Spent the weekend recovering from one of the worst football losses that I can remember. It was ugly, ugly, ugly.  It's one thing to lose to a team that is better than you and something entirely different to lose because you just can't pull your head out. Poor coaching, poor playing and no one seemed to be able to figure it out.  It was tuurrible! 

And I know too many Texas fans because they made sure I heard about it. The game wasn't even over before it began...and even though I was holding out hope, I had nothin.  I mean, I'm a person that's skilled at spinning and I couldn't come up with anything - there was no defending, excusing or denying what was happening out on that field.  We totally sucked. 

It's just like life though - things don't always turn out the way you expect them to. And all you can do is huddle up, regroup and make sure you're ready for the next game.

BOOMER SOONER!

Bite Me

So I got good news and bad news at my orthodontist appointment yesterday. Good news: no new bands. Bad news: still have to wear the ones I have.

And I made my ortho mad.

The new tech I've had the last few times is suuuper slow. Like ridiculously slow. She talks with her hands which means she stops whatever she's doing when she talking.  And she talks the entire time.

It's annoying enough that you're trying to carry on a conversation with me when my mouth is hanging open and you've got instruments in there - really, I have no possible way of answering your questions and I get tired of trying to gurgle in response to them.  And now I'm here an extra 20 minutes because you're uncomfortable with silence. Just get in there, do what you have to do and let's be done.

So yesterday I arrive (on time) and it's 30 minutes past my appointment before I'm seen.  So I'm irritated. And I'm especially irritated because I have a meeting with my supervisor and her supervisor at work so I don't have all day to spend at the orthodontist.

The ortho comes in "Hey Amber, what's going on?" to which I reply, "Nothing. Nothing is going on - I haven't been seen yet." He kinda looked at me like he wasn't sure if I was joking or not so just to drive the point home I continued with "Normally, you guys run behind and it's fine but I have a meeting today."

I knew he was pissed because he looked at my teeth very quickly and then told the tech what to do and then said to me "She'll get you taken care of and you can get to your meeting." but he said the last part kinda condescendingly.

And the thing is - I wasn't the one in a rush! I wasn't asking them to hurry up because I double booked. You started 30 minutes late! That's your own damn fault!

And I don't care that he was pissed. He's probably not used to people calling him out because he's an orthodontist - but so what?  My time is just as valuable as yours.

And not that I don't respect the profession but you're not a god - you're just a guy with a job.

So I'm not sure how that's gonna work out for me. Generally, I try not to piss people off while they’re providing a service to me. And by asserting myself, I’ve obviously become a bitch sooo either they’ll get me in and out from now on or they’ll make me wait even longer. 

Good thing I only have a few months left!

Family, Fun and Food

I finally made it back to the gym today. After 7 days off. Seven days! Man, it went so fast - how did I miss an entire week? 

I guess it's not too shocking considering I'm not that committed to working out in the first place...that's the difference between fit girls and girls that aren't.  Everybody has the capability to be fit, but not everyone has the dedication to be.

But with my natural and deep-rooted inclination to live my entire life in sloth-life laziness, I'll take the little measly gym time I do put in and be proud of it. This is a battle, people.

I lived up to my full sloth potential this weekend. I did nothing but sit around and eat!  We spent the weekend at Lake Tenkiller with the fam-bam. The entire crew - Grandma, uncles, aunt, and cousins. And there was nothing but a lot of noise and a lot of eating. There was food everywhere. It was totally ridiculous. Every time I turned around someone was pulling something else out to eat. And maybe for a person with even just a sliver of self-control this would have been okay...but for me that concept just doesn't even exist.

But I'm not complaining. I had an amazing time- it was super fun.  And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than to hang out with my favorite people.

I got to kick off celebrations early with a painting class.  I've never done one of those before, mainly for lack of artistic talent. This class reinforced that painting is definitely not my calling. When I showed my husband the finished picture he asked me, in seriousness, if the girl was holding a bra. And just in case you can't tell, she is not.

One of the reasons I enjoy my family so much is because we laugh. A lot. I'm sure we're not that funny to other people, but we crack ourselves up. And I love that our time together is spent laughing and playing - it's really all about having as much fun as we can.

My Mom's sense of humor is evident in the cake she bought me. She didn't buy this cake because I'm some princessy, fru-fru, girlie girl. She didn't buy this cake because it's my favorite color.  She didn't even buy this cake because she thought it looked good.  

 

She bought it to match my braces - because she said they both look like they would belong to a 13 year old.

And it was perfect. Really kinda ugly, but still perfect.





I get my shortness from my Mom but I also get her youthful appearance. Fair trade.

I went for a walk with M and my nephew. While we were out I asked him to snap the picture below. The point of the picture was to get us by the sign - to get the name of the place in the picture. I guess I didn't really make that clear though, because this is what I got...

 

So 20 years from now, I'll look at this picture and say "Oh yeah! That was the year we stayed at And Feather Resort!"

Another thing we might question in 20 years is the husband's tacky, yet funny, softball shirt. And yes, that really was the name of their team.  I secretly thought it would be funny to get the girls team shirts with his number on back that said "My Daddy Hit It".  Of course, I try to keep my tacky sense of humor on the down-low so I didn't.  But I did kinda want to.

And I'm really, really glad my grandma has not clue what "hit that" means.

Photography by M2, not too bad for a 3 year old!

And I think we can all agree that I should never, ever be on a stripper pole.

 

And I'm ready to start looking like a thirtysomething again. Well, more just ready to have these braces off. I've got some ugly messy rubber band things going on. It's ridiculous. I can barely open my mouth with all these things in.

I have bands going from the inside of my teeth to the outside. And the little brackets rubbing my tongue raw is awesome. But at least it's not noticeable - unlike the giant hooks across my two front teeth.

And I have bands going from the back, across the sides, to the top.

So guess what?  I end up taking them out. Or never putting them in. I have an orthodontist appointment tomorrow and I know there isn't going to be any good movement because I haven't done what I'm suppose to do. Which is so disappointing because I want them off. But seriously, how can I function like that at work?

At this point, I'm just hoping he doesn't add anymore. And I'm wearing bands right this minute, because you know...having them in for a few hours will make all the difference!

Goodbye 36

Today is the last day I'll spend as a 36 year old.

I don't know why, but there seems to be such a huge difference between 36 and 37. And yes, I know there's only one year difference. I'm bad at math but not that bad.  Just symbolically - like when I say "I'm 37" it just seems sounds...old.

I guess because I'm creeping closer to 40. And that's just weird.  Not the actual aging part - I'm okay with that - that's never been a big deal to me.  What makes it weird is that at my age, my mother had already become a grandmother.

And that's weird.

The thought of me having a child old enough to be married and have a child? I can't even wrap my mind around it.  And the thought that it's likely that would have been my life, if the17 year old me would have had her say, is just crazy.

So I'm celebrating more than just another year - I'm celebrating where I am at this moment and in this place in my life. I'm celebrating the disappointments, the joys, the near-misses, the silliness, the laughter, the friendships, the mistakes, the opportunities, the experiences and the love.

And of course, I will also be celebrating the fact that I plan to indulge in a ridiculous amount of cake.

But really, I can say it's been a great 36 years and I'm so lucky to have landed where I did!

Another One Bites The Dust

I fell off a curb.

Well, “fell” doesn’t really describe it. I catapulted off of it.

I had some errands to run today so I skipped out on the lunchtime workout. That was mistake #1.  While I was out I ran into the store for a Diet Dr. Pepper. That was mistake #2.  So I’m walking out to my car, talking on the phone (mistake #3) when all the sudden I don’t know what’s happening but I am flying through the air.  I didn’t trip or step into anything slick. It was like I had been blindsided by a linebacker – all the sudden I’m just going down.

I have no idea what’s happening.  My phone went flying towards the car, my keys went the other direction. And I yell “Oh my God!”

And as ridiculous as it is, I’m falling and all I can think is “I’m gonna be pissed if I break my shoe!”

Finally, I land.  I’m all sprawled out in the parking lot, looking crazy. I sit up and realize I’m missing a shoe. Then I know immediately what happened – I must have broken a heel.  But I look over; see my shoe and it’s intact. They both are.

Then, in lightning speed I hop up and try to scramble to my car so I can run away as fast as I can because I am mortified.  But it’s too late. This guy comes over, looking worried and amused at the same time, to check on me.

And that just makes it 10 times worse. Like, NO! Can you just pretend you didn’t see any of that?

I was in my car, putting it in reverse as I said “I’m fine, thanks.” and got the hell out of there.

The only thing more bruised than my ego is my knee. Which took the brunt of the fall when I made contact with the cement. It's already swollen but doesn't hurt too bad. Only when I bend, walk or put any kind of weight on it.

 

And the only thing worse than banging up my knee is that I don’t even have a cool story to go with it.  Hey, what happened to your knee?  Oh, I don’t know…I just forgot how to walk for a minute.