Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Crazy Dream Chronicles #8,142,018: Brought to you by Melatonin? Maybe?

Yeah, between moving and preparing the old house for sale and getting the kids registered at their schools (Yay for the dual-language program! We didn't have to move schools ... and, actually, where we moved puts the big kids in the boundaries for their preferred high school in a couple years. And they still can ride the bus to middle school ... so will Bubbles, in fact. I have to transport Bubbles to her school, since we're outside HER school boundaries, but she's grandfathered in because ... wait for it .. the dual-language program. That and I think that her elementary would be sad if I abdicated my secretarial duties for the Parent Teacher Club. Just sayin'.)

SO, I had a doozy of a dream last night.

Starter: In it, I was me-but-not-me. I was single. Had roommates. Had a single-story house. Had a date.

He took me to a little ice cream place. I didn't order anything wildly expensive. We chatted. It was ... okay. Not the best date. Could be worse.

Went to a church dance. He was also driving a couple of his (guy) friends in the backseat. We went to the dance. There was another guy who treated me much more like a gentleman. He looked familiar. I couldn't recognize him at first ... it was really my friend's old brother (who, IRL, I did crush on back in the day), as his early-marriage self (since I was also a lot sleeker in my dream. Why is that?). But his wife came and she and I chatted. And I finally recognized him.

On the drive home, my date was kinda pointedly unhappy. I offered to help chip in for gas. Not because we'd driven a long way, but because he was running a little low and I felt bad for not wanting to go on another date with him ... like, ever. So, even though I don't have a job, I wanted to soften the blow a little, you know?

I was going to give him, what, five dollars, since it wasn't a long drive. And he kept hinting that more would be better. And I didn't want to fill up his tank, since he didn't drive THAT far or spend that much money on our date. ... And, in my purse, I had limited cash. And a BUNCH of these "Christmas Coupons:" shiny, white paper vouchers with bright color printing. The red-printed one was for $2. There was also a $5 voucher, one for $3, another for $7 ... just weird amounts. So I primly stated (for benefit of the guys in the backseat, so THEY'D be aware that shaking your date down for gas money is NOT the done thing, that I didn't think that filling his tank would be fair. And that I didn't realize that this was the expectation. I did give him, over $5, but less than $15. I just wanted to be done with the conversation and rid of him.

THAT car ride FINALLY ended. Then he demanded, while my roommates' dog and cat swarmed me as I got out of that interminable car, that we read scriptures before he left. And by "we," he meant "me." So I'm petting a dog and trying to stop the cat from pouncing on its  underbelly, claws out, and reading .... Isaiah, maybe? And I'm tripping on all the words as the animals are wriggly. And I'm thinking,"This is horrible. All three of those guys are going to think that I'm completely illiterate!" 

THEN the cat drooled and got it in my mouth, like a LOT of drool. And I started gagging. And I was all, "Guys, I've GOT to go." Since I didn't want to throw up in front of them. I ran for the house, made it inside. Told a roommate in the front room that I'd be in the bathroom. Made it. 

So, I'm sitting on the toilet, minding my own business, proverbially licking my wounds ... and, through the floor-length windows (thank goodness for sheers!!), THE DATE is griping about how I didn't give him a kiss or anything. I am SITTING ON THE TOILET ... having thrown up from a dripping of cat drool in my MOUTH ... and he has WALKED AROUND TO THE BACK OF THE HOUSE to gripe about NOT getting a kiss? 

Then that dream ended. (Girls? NEVER date a guy like that. Ever.)

Second section of dreamtime: I stole a not-segway, but like it? You had to pedal it, but the bottom was shaped like a little tank. And it said it was from the Queen Valley Police Department ... So, NOT Seattle (King County), but like unto? It was in a city, anyways.

And I realized that I should have disguised myself. I was going through celebrities ... and settled that I SHOULD have disguised myself as Jennifer Lawrence, since she totally COULD AND WOULD pull off a prank like that.

Then, Jennifer Lawrence was there. And she wanted me to help her with some heist. So she's rolling my clothes (on me -- like a loose cardigan and other stereotypical librarian wear get-up) so that it'll fit better under a catsuit. And then I can ditch the catsuit, rip off the stickers, and be fully dressed  ... to, I don't know, establish an alibi or something?

As we're about ready, she asks how my ears are. And I'm CONFUSED. She restates the question as, "When did you last see a chiropractor?" (Answer, irl, when I was pregnant with Bruise and Bucket ... so over 12 years) ... My dream-self said, "Um ... like 1999?" She was disgusted and beckoned over a mousy-type man. And he was a chiropractor. And he started manipulating my back and neck ... and I could just FEEL the tension falling off my neck, shoulders, and back ... SO GOOD.

And then I woke up with sore shoulders and not having completed the heist. Sorry Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe if you get me that chiropractor, I might consider it.


So ... if you're the type to look for meaning in dreams, what is my subconscious trying to tell me?
(Maybe, stay off the melatonin? Maybe go see a chiropractor? Maybe money IS just a bunch of weird colors printed on weird paper? Maybe I need to try to hem those crazy-long sheer curtains that I hung in the guest room last week? I don't know.)

Okay, now to get dressed, work at unpacking, hope the phone tech comes soon so that we can go the an activity at a local park this morning, clean the basement and the bathrooms and the kitchen ... Finish reading and reviewing an eBook I got for free.

Even though all I really want to do is just lay in bed and read and sleep. Good times.

Saturday, May 12, 2018

Blindsided: Follow-up

So, I found that my friend passed of a heart attack.

Last night, before Michael confirmed her cause of death, I dreamt that we were driving by some apartments (apartments that I'm not aware that she had ever lived in).

As we were driving by, I saw her coming out, just having woken up, in her pajamas, before having brushed her hair, to get the mail.

I screeched at Michael to pull over and I jumped out of the car.

I ran up to her, "I thought you were dead!!"

"What? No, I'm fine!!" She laughed.

She gave me one of her awesome hugs and we laughed and it was so nice.

... Sometimes I don't like my dreams. I'd much rather that one be true than our actual reality.

At least the one where I talked to Pop-pop, we were both fully aware that he'd passed. And he still assured me that he was fine and it was good.

Between this and no cell service while Michael and Bruise were at the Father-son campout, so I had no idea if they were okay, if they'd even made it to the campsite, etc ... I'm kinda worked up. A lot. I don't like that.

I just wish that I could turn off my emotions for a while.
And I don't think that I'm making it to my friend's funeral ... I'm going to keep my boys in sight for the rest of today, I think.

And, is there any way to petition a cell tower out that way??? Just for my peace of mind?
Especially, since every other year, we've at least been able to call each other ... depending where in the campground we have stood.

Friday, May 11, 2018


I wish this were a happy post.

But I am just trying to process ... so bear with me.

I just got the news that one of my friends, a lady who I had visit-taught, passed away.
She passed just over a week ago. Her funeral is tomorrow.

Just a couple days before her passing, she had facebooked that she was having some health issues to where her doctor ordered a CAT scan. And that she wanted to be able to go back to her home state to help out her mom (who has cancer).

Apparently, she had facebooked in the morning on the day she passed. Just news stories and such.

I am going to miss her. She would send me links that she thought I'd be interested in.

When I first met her, she was not active at church. While I knew her, she became active. She was funny and sweet. She loves animals.

She has a teenage son (stepson, technically, but he's HERS) who went to school at my kids' elementary school. Her husband recently joined the church, which made her so happy.

The thought that came to me is that maybe she's gone on ahead of her mom, to help prepare things there. She can be the one to meet her mom really soon.

But I'm going to miss her. She's a real sweetie.

I just hate missing people. I really, really don't like it.

Don't mind me. I'm going to go cry in the shower. And shave my legs. Because I need to do that.
Especially if I'm going to her funeral (It's either Michael or me. And I should be prepared. ... We'd both like to be there, but there's Bruise and Bubbles's soccer games...).

Monday, March 05, 2018

yiggety yo ... it's been a while ...

So, I just haven't had a lot to say that I haven't said on Facebook.

But today, spilling over from yesterday ... there's some.

I just am feeling like a kinda crap mother.

Saturday was okay. Bubbles turned 6. We had a party for family, then went out for dinner (Still not wildly impressed with Red Robin. But I got my Poppin' Purple Lemonade, so it wasn't too bad. Michael's burger was still cold, though. Drat.) ...  The day before, she got to have a couple friends join her at the local bounce-house-place. I learned that the moms of Bubbles's friends know each other ... so all the kids AND all the moms are friends. That was a sweet deal. And we took little cupcakes (and cookies for the lactose-intolerant kids) to her classroom.

But ... Sunday was tougher.
We had discussed reverence last week for Family Home Evening. And Bruise agreed to NOT do sudoku during Sacrament Meeting (like ... Communion? But it's what LDS people call it). Bucket has started drawing stuff from Five Nights at Freddy's ... which I asked her to refrain from. Since we're, y'know, supposed to be thinking about JESUS. And I have put my foot down that they WILL put away their stuff and SING during the songs (all 3-4 of them).

Bubbles is doing her thing, looking over the back of our pew and distracting the people behind us. Michael's dealing with that.

At one point, I look over ... Bucket is on the FLOOR, buns pointed to the person bearing his/her testimony, with her head under the pew.

"Hey ... hey!" I hiss at her. "You need to be SITTING now. On the PEW." ... Basic stuff, right?

"FINE!!" She snarls back. "Then I WON'T look for my pen!"

And ... guys, I just ... I just couldn't handle being there, on the same pew.
I whispered to Michael that I was going to take a walk ... and I left the chapel, stepped outside, walked around the building to where I could walk in without running into too many people, did my best not to cry ... I found that the Relief Society (women's group) room was empty. So I popped in there, turned on the speaker, and listened to the other testimonies being borne. And I still worked at not crying. Because I looked nice. And crying would make me all puffy and red-faced and my mascara would run and I'd have tear-tracks through my foundation.

I managed. Then I had to find Michael (and my bag, which he had taken). and I helped a friend find pictures for her lesson (I have served as an assistant Ward [congregation] librarian before. Mostly, it's all about finding pictures, making copies, and ensuring that there's chalk, erasers, crayons, and TVs). I also ran into another friend to ask a favor (and she agreed. Awesome girl).
Then I hung with Michael and helped him get set up for teaching the YM during the third hour.
Then we went in late to Sunday School.

And we went home after, to drop the girls off. They made mac and cheese, but not enough ... so when Michael, Bruise, and I got back from dropping off an invite to one of Bruise's classmates, there wasn't lunch for me. And I was not happy.

I finished typing up the Relief Society newsletter and sent it out. Only one mistake ... and no one has called me on it yet (I didn't change the subject line from "test email - [date]" ... but that's better than last week when I left in the "forwarded message" gobbledygook at the top of the email  --- since I send myself a "test email" then send it to the rest of the Relief Society. Maybe next week, I'll remember BOTH bits?)

Then I made myself mac and cheese and went to bed. I read a little, then SLEPT HARD. I remember waking up when Michael came in to take a nap. I vaguely remember Bucket coming in and giving me a kiss on the cheek. I vaguely recall Michael instructing the kids to take out the trash.

I did have a crazy dream. We were in a different (not nicer, just different) house. And Michael was making a meal. And, when he handed it to me, my mug was filled with, like 1/4 full of noodles ... and the broth was filled with a clean, unwrapped pantyliner, wrappers from bandaids ... I was kinda ticked. It's a good thing that I realized it was a dream ... or else, when he came to bring me IRL dinner (which was NOT topped with garbage), I'd have been all, "Michael, WHAT the HELL?!?" and he'd have been confused.

I want to be a good mom. But I just don't feel like I'm ... making it.
The house is cleaner (still) than it's been in a long time. I do a daily morning devotional with the kids before they go to school. They're alive. They're fed. They have clothes, shoes, blankets ... but I just feel like I'm barely managing to tread water with Bucket.

I try to do things, spend time with her ... and then stuff like this happens.
At least Bruise and Bubbles are sweet to me, even when they're mad.

What am I doing wrong?  I mean, I must be doing something wrong.
It's not like I haven't read, like, a BAZILLION books about parenting crap ... but I'm just not getting it.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

CrazyDreamChronicles™ ... a THEATRE production ... with MUTANTS!

So, last night, I dreamed that I was going to a middle-school production (since Bucket was recently in a school production of Annie, Jr.) ... and Bucket's choir teacher (who also is in charge of the drama department at her middle school), told me that she needed me to take over the role of Lily St. Regis.

Thankfully, since my dream-self is about 150 lbs lighter than my real-life self, I was about the same weight I was 6th-12th grade. ... Therefore, I could fit in a costume. And it was a 70s-era dress ... but, thinking about how fashion is cyclical, so MAYBE there were some 1930s style elements in it. And the dress kept evolving ... so at one part, I'm all, "HEY!! WHERE ARE THE SLEEVES?? THESE ARE SPAGHETTI STRAPS! ARE WE GOING TO HAVE A WARDROBE MALFUNCTION??" ... And, at another point, I look down and recognize the material of the dress as a floral scarf that I had bought at a resale store ...

Now, Bucket's friend (who REALLY played Lily in our local production) was MAD at me for taking her role ... but, hey, her teacher DEMANDED that I play it.

And I had a small excerpt of the script that I was furiously cramming. And it was NOTHING like the REAL script. Like there were aliens and flying and ...

Segue into another part of a dream, there were a LOT of us. And we were mutants (like X-Men-type mutants, not just genetic travesties). And there was another girl and we were like best friends and we all had to surround the White House, but it was VERY different, like Frank Lloyd Wright design with LOTS of big windows. And I'm pointing out to people, to try and help keep us all calm as we were preparing for a battle, (even though I've NEVER been to DC. Seriously, the farthest east I've been was a short trip to Mississippi, where we briefly went to Alabama and Louisiana) ... So I'm being a long-distance tour guide -- "That third floor? That's their work out area. See the treadmills? ... And the second floor, that's the meeting room. The bottom floor there? That's the lobby and cafeteria."

Yeah, I don't get it, either.

It was rather stressful and not very restive.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Crazy Dream Chronicles Strikes (Yet Again)

So, since I didn't post FIRST THING upon getting up, I only have snatches of last night's dream ...

  • It was at a school.
  • I was a janitor? Whatever, I was there with Michael after hours.
  • There was a display case.
  • In the display case (which was easily opened, ... this is pertinent a couple bullet points down)
  • Part of the display is a tall, thin, skinny-oval egg. It's tan and speckled with darker brown, white, and black spots.
  • The egg begins to crack/hatch.
  • A little animal (about seven inches [or thereabouts] long squirms out.
  • I pick it up.
  • It's a beaver ... a very cute and tiny and well-behaved beaver.
  • I don't know what to do with it
  • I start to browse the internet [with incognito tabs, since I don't have a license for owning a beaver and I don't want to get in trouble, but it doesn't have a mom and I can't bear for it to starve, since it's a newly-hatched BABY ... and, YES, irl, I KNOW that beavers are MAMMALS and do NOT hatch from eggs] for BEAVER MILK, since I know that there's cat-milk for abandoned kittens, so NATURALLY there'd be BEVER MILK, OF COURSE.

    (There's a reason I call these "crazy dream chronicles" ... My subconscious is a very strange place.)
  • I'm working my darndest to sell Michael on the idea of having a baby beaver.
  • He's not really buying it, but agrees that we can foster it while we call a wildlife refuge to take decent care of it.

  • But, I think that when we called, they couldn't take it for some amount of time, so I NEEDED to foster this critter.
And that was the main gist of my dream.


Tuesday, June 06, 2017

#52 Lists - List 2 - List Routines in Your Personal Life and at Work

Right now, I'm kinda horrible at routines.

Lets' see ... here's a typical day:

  • Wake up to Michael's alarm. Fall back to sleep immediately. I'm sure he said a prayer and kissed me goodbye. I usually don't remember. #badwife
  • Wake up slightly before my alarm(s). Check Facebook. Maybe remember to say a prayer. Maybe (on a REALLY GOOD DAY) get a shower early.
  • Bruise is usually awake. Bucket and Bubbles are usually good about getting themselves up, too.
  • Depending on the day, I might, after throwing on some clothes, take Bucket and/or Bruise to a club/class before school (Strings lessons twice a week, Girls on the Run twice a week, Musical Theater [technically twice a week, but conflicts with Strings ...], Track Club [if offered], ...). Otherwise the kids put together their lunches and catch the school bus.
    I try to have the older kids empty the dishwasher and dryer before they leave.
  • Depending on the day, sometimes Bucket has activities [MusicMakers was Tuesday mornings. Library storytime is Wednesdays] ... sometimes I have Visiting Teaching.
    I nearly always get a shower before heading out. Standards, people, I have them.
  • Come back from errands (or take a break from procrastinating). Eat lunch.
  • Sometime during the day, I read to/with Bubbles.
    I also read myself. If I'm really lucky, I get a nap.
  • Kids get home. Unload dishwasher (if it's been run), more laundry. Bruise makes sure to keep up his streak in Duolingo. They relax from school. Maybe go out and play. I figure out something for dinner.
  • Michael gets home. We eat. We chill.
  • Read scriptures and pray together as a family. Kids get ready for bed and go to bed around 8pm.
  • Michael and I chill: chat, watch something (Netflix or the DVD from Netflix or a DVD from the library or something that we own). Sometimes we decide to play a board game or something instead. We head to bed around 10pm
  • Since Michael wakes up earlier, he falls asleep sooner. If I can't sleep, I play on my phone until I'm tired ... then I sleep.
What do I like? 
  • Spending time with Michael, for sure.
  • Chilling with the kids
  • Reading and praying as a family. If the schedule allows, not only do we do scriptures and prayer together, but I also read aloud to the kids. It allows me to share books I love with them.
    (The Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, Wonder, the Blossom Culp/Alexander Armsworth stories by Richard Peck, ... there are others, of course. But those are the bigger ones.)
What do I want to change?
  • I think I need to start doing FLYlady again ... get more of a schedule for cleaning/housework.
  • When the kids are all in school, I'm going to try to start volunteering at the library. I haven't volunteered at our local library ... but I'd love to get my shelving zen on again.
  • I need to start planning meals. It'll make evenings (and days) a lot more organized.
  • I also want to schedule individual time with each of my kids ... right now, between school making life a little zany, allergies kicking my trash so that I'm exhausted, the house being a sty ... well, it's not so easy to prioritize everything/everyone as they should be.
  • I need to schedule prayer and scripture study for myself ... I know it'll be easier when the kids are all in school ... and when I have a housekeeping schedule in action (Think about it: Get up, get kids to school, throw dinner in the slow cooker, make a cup/pot of (herbal/Rooibos) tea, sit down at a (CLEAN!) table and read and ponder ... then go to the bedroom and have a prayer. After that, tidy up the house, run a vacuum, do a load of laundry and dishes, fold laundry while catching up on my Netflix queue ... run any errands/volunteering/Visiting Teaching ... read uninterrupted (or do a craft ... I do those sometimes!) ... kids get home, help with any homework/spend individual time, meet Bubbles at the bus, get her settled (maybe even a nap for her!), get dinner set out, clean up, scriptures/prayer/story-story ... time with Michael. Sounds pretty sweet, eh?
    Okay, maybe not exactly your cup of (herbal/Rooibos) tea ... but I'm comfortable knowing that I'm kinda boring.
    And I forgot to add going to PTC/PTO meetings and running the kids to soccer, ballet, Activity Days, Scouts, etc ... but you get what I mean.
I like being spontaneous ... but it would help to have a better-implemented schedule in place from which to veer, if you get what I mean?

Someday ... Someday.

Crazy Dream Chronicles: Celebrity Cameos

I'm not remembering much of my dreams ... but what I do recall? Wowza.

A couple nights ago, I remember, in my dream, being at a table. A light colored, round-ish table.
One of my (VERY, VERY EXTENDED) cousins, C, was there.
Pulling up a chair and swinging into it, next to her, was Chris Hemsworth.
They were obviously friends. They joked and bantered ... he playfully pretended to give a chomp to her neck.
Wacky fun.

(And also, NICE! Good for C, getting to be friends with CHRIS HEMSWORTH!! Even if it's just in my dream.)

Last night, I remember that, in my dream, Michael and I ... and other people ... were walking through a house? A house museum?

Regardless, in the dream, there was a narrow flight of stairs. Not TOO narrow.
But I bumped my purse (something that happens VERY often, irl, since I try to be prepared for nearly anything ... which necessitates carrying around THE PURSE OF DOOM™) ... where was I?
That's right ... I bumped my purse into JOSH GROBAN.

And then, classy dame that I am, I started doing the impression of Josh Groban from Kid Snippets.

However, Josh Groban was CHARMED and DELIGHTED and asked me to do it again. And he walked me down the stairs on his arm. Very nice boy, he is.

And, NO, my Kid Snippets Josh Groban impression is not really that good at all.
Just being honest.

.... Now, WHY are these folks showing up in my dreams?
I suppose because Cousin C has Disney Princess hair ... so it makes sense to pair her with the Marvel Superhero (since they're now owned by Disney) with godlike hair.

And Josh Groban has been showing up a lot on my Facebook feed advertisements...

But, no, it doesn't really make all that much sense. Not a lick of sense, really.

Counting ...

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