My big life moment

(I collect fabulous friends.)

When I was four I couldn't wait to turn five. Twelve, sixteen. Eighteen. Twenty. I didn't actually want to turn 25, but I did it anyway. (Such a good sport I am.) Unlike most people, I didn't dread 30. I never knew what the hype was. If you look at people in their 30's, they are all finally coming into their own. Comfy in their skin. Confident in their bodies, personalities, intelligence, beliefs. And I wasn't afraid of that. I woke up the other morning feeling like a kid again. It was my birthday! And I was so happy about it. I finally reached the milestone that I actually waited for. And it didn't disappoint. That's it, people! I actually am 30. For realsies. (Yeah, I might have been telling people I was when I actually wasn't.) What? It's not against the law. My twenties were good. They served a purpose. But I was over them. My life, I felt, was better suited for the 30 something crowd. What with my million and a half kids I have. But, I'm here. I made it. Bring on the fine lines and other beautiful signs of age. I'll just be sitting here waiting for the big 40. They know where to find me. I'm not scared.

Well, maybe a little.

*Just in case you were wondering: I actually spelled "intelligence" wrong- spell check caught it. heh.*

BFL's and no BFL's

It's true. It was Pegs birthday yesterday. Leanne and I both posted BFL's about her in honor of her birthday. (Big Fat Lies) That's how we roll. We had planned on having a contest to see who could come up with the better BFL, but neither of us were successful. A truly successful BFL is one that you can get people to fall for. And that clearly didn't happen. Shoot.

For realsies, Penny is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. And that is no BFL. She's hilarious, smart, gorgeous, non-judgemental, accepting, loyal, kind-hearted, etc. To a fault. And I'm thankful that after years of not seeing each other, we can easily pick up where we started off. And I'm also thankful that we can do dumb stuff like tell BFL's about each other and we never offend each other. (This includes Lenny, of course.) The three of us are hilarious and we know it. Nobody else might not know that. Just as long as we can crack each other and ourselves up, we are good.

Hope it was happy, Peg. You rock.

A happy day in more than one way!

Dear Mama Peggles,

Happy happy birthday to you, my dear friend.

I just wanted to tell you how proud of you I am. I know this past year has been very difficult, what with all the hard work you have put into getting over your debilitating fear of flying. Even though the hypnosis and acupuncture didn't do the job, it probably did help you when you took those classes. I'm so thrilled that you were finally able to take the baby steps and complete your first flight from M**q**** airport to H****t** airport. That's an accomplishment you should be shouting from the rooftop! Pretty soon you'll be a pilot!! Wear those wings with pride, woman!

Happy birthday!

Love always,
Mindizzle

Past the rapids

I made two different kinds of cookies this week. You know what that means? My life has found it's feet again. That's one of the first things to get cut from the time budget in the case of overloads. And thanks to a thoughtful new friend, (don't worry, I won't toot your horn, Rebecca) I even had the day off to hit a few garage sales. Oooh, how I missed garage saling days. They are back!! And so am I!!!

My garage sale find of the day. I fell in love at first sight. Michelle so brilliantly suggested to use it as a coffee table. Love that. I prefer an eclectic look over a matchy-matchy one any day. Mine is still m-m. Some day.

Still not saying I'm St. Urho.

That guy on the left, named Urho, will produce grapes. His friend on the right, raspberries. Her name is Saija, named after a world renowned Finnish horse trainer. I'm keepin' it real- long live the Finnish heritage!! And the descendants of the great man himself, St. Urho. (Oh, weird. Tara! Twice in a week? Wow. Didn't expect that. You look really grape today! Doesn't she, people?)

I'm not claiming to be St. Urho.

But I have been known to buy 5+ lbs of grapes at a time. Just sayin'. Oh, hi, my awesome sister Tara! Didn't realize you would be reading this.

Big deal if I cleaned the counter and refused to wait ten seconds for it to dry. Whatev. Least I clean it.

I apologize for the horrid pics I posted earlier, if you saw them. These look slightly better. The color of my living room isn't exactly like this. Guess you'll have to come over and see it for yourself.

What to do about this? I need a window treatment for this baby because the sun beats so hard in it every a.m. And I need the curtains to pull all the way across, so I can't add a support to the rod. Plus, Zane doesn't want me to hide the arch of the window.

Psht. You are just jealous about my mad camera skills. I would be, too, if I were you. I'm pretty much an award winning photographer.

Danka.

I like to move it, move it...

My little wiggly, giggly

Kaija Paija

But, seriously. Thank you. Why as mommies do we feel we need permission for something as natural as our emotions? I mean, seriously. We can't help our emotions. I've been OvErWhElMeD (to say the least) this entire new year. And I really was banking on the fact that this x-ray we had taken was going to be the climax to it all. This new year's resolution was going to be a different kind... and it was going to be that I could finally! relax and let the stress all slide off my shoulders. And when that didn't happen, I felt like someone slapped me across the face. And even though I said I was going to have a temper tantrum, I didn't let myself. Until I felt the understanding and compassion in your comments in my last post. And the permission to be mad! It was just what the Dr. ordered. Since I've been so honest, I might as well continue: I bawled myself to sleep last night. It's been a while since I cried that well. And I woke up with puffy eyes but with a lot less weight on my shoulders. So thank you, for your permission and understanding. Sometimes it is worth it to show your raw emotions to the world, after all.

...than a wet hen.

Excuse my French in the previous post. I won't apologize- it's a fraction of how I felt.

I'm not scared. I'm not anxious. Or sad. Or overwhelmed. Or nervous. Or bewildered. Or, or, or. I'm mad. I know the lingo. I know the different positions you need for x-rays for hips. I know the angles a good hip should have. I can look at an x-ray and tell you whether your baby has hip dysplasia or not. I know the different types of braces, casts, etc. I know the different ways hips can be corrected. I know I can do it. I can make it through. I don't even care that people stare- they are just curious. (btw: feel free to ask people what's wrong- we don't get offended) I don't care that I have extra steps in changing my baby. That doesn't bother me.

I'm mad because I don't want to have to buy clothes and dress my baby around a brace. I'm mad that the cute little summer clothes I just bought aren't going to work. I'm mad that I can't just carry my baby on my hip as easily as all the other mommies do. I'm mad that I can't just snuggle with my baby without a brace between us. I'm mad that it will be to uncomfortable to fall asleep with my baby in my arms after feeding her in middle of the night. I'm mad that my baby can't fit in the normal baby things (exersaucers, strollers, etc.). I'm mad that I can't just go out to the park with my baby in the summer, because the brace will make her sweat too much. But, mostly I'm mad because I have to watch my little baby learn to crawl and walk with a brace hindering her, although she won't think it is.

I'm mad- that's what I am. I don't want to have to do those things. But I will because it means my baby will lead a better life.

Not fair.

@#%*!!! My baby has hip dysplasia. Third one in a row. That's not fair. I'm going to have a temper tantrum now.

Explanation:

According to my dictionary, an opinion is: 1. a view, judgement, or appraisal formed in the mind about a particular matter. 2. a belief stronger than impression and less strong than positive knowledge.

An opinion is not a fact. It is how you think and feel. Period.

I'm just tired of people preaching to "be nice" and then not doing the same. Yes, we should. No doubt. But it's a double standard. Why can't these same people preach that to the people who have the same opinion as them? I remember a particular political discussion on Facebook where a person who opposed my view was lashing out, saying the people who disagreed with him were "uneducated, uninformed, not compassionate...". The person who started this discussion sat by and did nothing. However. When someone with my shared beliefs said something along those lines, that person was called out on it. Double standard.

Can we please stop calling people names? And picking apart the most ridiculous things? Really? Just because we have a difference of opinion? Are we that petty? BE NICE. Everybody.

That's all I have to say about that. I think.

I love to hear those stories about people down to their last dollar with no food in the house. Then they come upon some money that wasn't expected. Well, it can happen in other ways, too. I got the sweetest email with a huge compliment today from an old friend of my younger sister. Just when I needed it.

I'm gonna do it. I'm bringing up politics. Later. When I can do it calmly and nicely.

Oh, and did you notice? I opened my blog back up to public. I don't like it being private. I'll probably switch again some day. That's how I roll.

Tomatoes and a new career.

So there we were in church on Good Friday when Zane got called into work. Yep. Halfway through. I proudly rounded up my kids from various benches and made a grand exit out of church. Lesson learned: sit in the back so that we don't make a scene if and when it happens again. Zane's ears and my face were various shades of red the whole 40 or so minutes of our drive home that night.

And today. Not embarrassing, but it sounds about right. I just paid the water guy $50 to come out and see what was wrong with our water softener. Turns out, a lever was in the wrong position. $50 to hear that. Sweet. At a rate of $50/min, I think I need to get into the water softener business.

Sometimes you just have to laugh, dontcha?

Then came evening.

I feel like a fraud. Yesterday's post was so joyful, almost gag-me joyful. At the time, I was. But it was short lived. I think the stress and busyness of the last couple months had started to come down on top of me. Picture me standing in a tent as it starts to cave in. Madly trying to hold it up. I got it back up, just a little cock-eyed. I actually said, "Ha!" out loud as I stood completely overwhelmed and thought about my overly happy post earlier in the day. The truth of the matter is that I do love the things that I said I love. I just have a lot of small, medium and large things piling up that I don't love. Gah. Life's never perfect, is it? I'm feeling a little more even keeled today.

The remedy? I held my (happy) baby in my arms while having an adult and much needed conversation with my husband yesterday. Turns out, he's feeling as out of sorts as me and that's unlike him. In a weird way, it's comforting to know that I'm not the only that feels "piled up on". So does he. It's nice to have someone to trudge through things with. Misery loves company, after all. You can join us if you want. ;)

Home Sweet Home.

Everything happens for a reason. And it makes complete sense to me why we didn't end up in MI four years ago. Like I had hoped. We took a little detour that changed our life and outlook. And collected up some wonderful friends and memories along the way. (Even C & M and D & S. They wouldn't have meant as much to us as they do, had we not met them so far from here) I am forever thankful for that. And with that priceless opportunity tucked securely in our hearts and minds, we have finally landed ourselves here.

In a place that fits. This is home. This is what I've been waiting for. And, hopefully, it's been waiting for us. Never before have I ever felt like I was in it for the long term. Now I do. I hope this feeling never changes. I really do. I'm not saying that I won't get antsy in a few years hoping for a change. I think it's in my blood, the need for change. However, I hope it's not a moving type of change, because Zane and I both agreed we aren't leaving anytime soon. This is a perfect compromise for both of us. We both got a lot of what we were looking for in a home and surrounding area. Maybe I'll just have to remodel my house or something like that. ;)

I love my house. I love our land. I love our neighbors. I love our friends. I love how even strangers welcomed us with open arms. (thank you!!) I love being close to the church I grew up in. I love seeing people from my past, even those who I haven't seen or thought of in years. I just love it. I hope I always do. And. I love having the internet again. *giggle*

*happy sigh* I'm a lucky girl.