It's make-up-your-own-title day! (No, not REALLY)

I know, I know, it's been a few days. But not SO terribly many as it COULD have been ...

Let's see.
Michael's done with his CRAZYHUGEEXPENSIVELONG test. In a couple months, we should learn if he's passed it. (Just FYI, this test only has a 42% pass rate. Yowch, right?)

Bubbles is in the middle of potty-training. She's doing pretty well ... Mistakes are still happening, but nothing horrendous.

Last week, one of my "baby" cousins turned 22. And she's THISCLOSE to graduating college.
I also got to have a lunch date with one of my friends that I hadn't seen (in person) for what feels like ages and ages. We had a great time. I've missed her bunches.

We cleaned the church (we had traded our assignment last week to this week).
I have to say that cleaning WITH kids takes a LOT longer ... but Bruise and Bucket are learning (bit by bit) how to clean the church bathrooms decently.
Yes, we opt for cleaning the bathrooms and the drinking fountains instead of the kitchen and vacuuming classrooms.
(Now, July-December, we'll have the other jobs to choose from -- washing the windows, vacuuming/sweeping the chapel, cultural hall, hallways ... and some other things. But, as for me and my house, we prefer the bathrooms.)

SO ... Michael can actually clean the bathrooms, kitchen, vacuum the classrooms assigned, AND clean the drinking fountains (that's the BEST one, really) in around an hour by himself, so he says ...
It took me, coaching Bruise and Bucket, on the wiping down the sinks and toilets (Michael was in charge of refilling toilet paper and paper towel dispensers and, for the most part, mopping), it took us almost EXACTLY one hour.

On Sunday, when we were walking into church, we ran into Brother D--. He made such a point of thanking us for COMING and CLEANING at the church (it's a nearly random assignment given to at least two families each week. Our family might be assigned to help clean maybe four times a year?) ... but it was pretty apparent that folks aren't showing up or doing their work.

I could rather tell that, since in the Nursery, we have PILES of sawdust where ants burrowed through earlier this month. (I should just take Michael's key and give that room a DECENT vacuuming sometime during the week) And, when I was scrubbing the toilets, they were hosting quite a pink ring of mineral-sediment in each and every one of them.
(When you have someone in the other ward remark on how good the toilets look ... I mean it's flattering, but it's also rather irritating. This is the Lord's HOUSE ... it SHOULD be taken care of.)

So ... yeah. And Michael got home from a meeting last night feeling frustrated.

Pretty much all of it really boils down to the fact that a good majority of folk in the ward (and don't get me wrong, I love my church. I love my ward. But we're none of us perfect. Apparently, here's an area in which a LOT of us can aspire to show HUUUUUUUUGE improvements. Just sayin'.) are not taking their responsibilities/duties seriously.

I mean, yes, sometimes there are times when a teacher just WON'T SHOW UP for church, leaving either the Sunday School presidency or the Primary Presidency skedaddling to find someone to take his/her place OR squeezing two classes together.
It's understandable when it's an emergency ... but just NOT showing up for a calling that you agreed to do (and it's not like there's NO ONE who could pitch in and sub. Heck, I just typed up the list of Primary substitutes into a pdf for my Nursery co-leaders.), it's not responsible.
(And I say this as a woman who LOVES to sleep in.)

I see Michael busting his butt to TRY and be a good steward (as called for, being an Elders Quorum president) to all the families assigned to his care (Not all the families come under the stewardship of EQ. Some are assigned to the High Priests' group in the ward). And ... well, he can't do it. Even when I'm at my most supportive, there simply aren't enough hours in the day/week/month/year/century for him to administer to each family on his own.

And, well, he tells me that there are three brethren in Elders Quorum who are consistently doing their Home Teaching.

Yes, you heard me.
THREE.
A SINGLE DIGIT ... yeah.

I've offered that, if I'm asked to speak in church in the near future, to issue a call to repentance.
(I can do that, since I do strive to do my Visiting Teaching. I feel intense guilt if I haven't reached out to my Visiting Teachees each month. Because, dang it, they DESERVE to know that Heavenly Father loves them, Jesus loves them, and they have at LEAST two sisters in the ward who know and love them and are willing to help out. Besides, Home/Visiting Teaching also is a great act of service to the High Priest Group Leader/EQ President/ Relief Society President, since THEY need to be able to know how we can best serve those in our ward's boundaries ... and, if they don't have the time/ability to visit each and every family/sister, how can they have ANY chance of knowing about those needs?

It just irks me.
And maybe it's got something to do with the fact that we haven't been home taught since before my friend Kim died (her husband, who's since moved out of the ward, was one of our home teachers. Our other home teacher is ... in legal trouble/having a crisis of faith. So, yeah, it's been a few months since we've had a visit. I GET that people are busy. But, when you're putting other priorities before serving the Lord, I have a bit of a problem with that.

Right now, I don't really know who my Visiting Teachers are.
And I get that whoever I've been assigned to are probably just really busy ladies ... but, at the same time, it's sad that they feel that I don't even rate a call/text/email/Facebook message/whatever.
I mean, sure, I'm doing okay. For the most part.
But, well, what if I weren't? Who would I call?
(Okay, I'd call my mom. But, when my mom passes, I'm going to be UP. A. CREEK.)
And I do have some friends in the ward, too. Like our RS president ... she'd make sure that I was taken care of.

But what of the families/sisters who DON'T have a friendship established with the RS President or someone, anyone else? That's RIGHT THERE what Visiting Teaching is all about (and Home Teaching, too). It's helping the good shepherd by going after and checking on all His wandering (and not-so-wandering) lambs.

And, from my experience of Visiting Teaching, I KNOW that it's not always easy. There will be sisters who don't WANT visits (or even ANY contact from the church). When that happens, you just write letters or send texts (if they're cool with that) and let them know that you're there for them, that you care, that they're not alone or forgotten.

One gal (who I met by being assigned as her Visiting Teacher) was rather flabberghasted when I visited, Michael in tow as my VT companion, since I couldn't get hold of my assigned companion. We had a lovely visit, which started a friendship. ... She was flabberghasted because, when she asked if we had any fun plans for the coming weekend/spring break (in a couple days), I told her that Michael and I were getting married the next day. (It was true. And it was a HUGE reason why I wanted to be SURE to visit her before we went on our honeymoon. Because VT is a priority to me. Not just because of numbers ... but because I'd feel AWFUL if any sister assigned to me felt lonely, forgotten, or neglected. That's NOT how Heavenly Father would want her to feel.)

So, yeah, I can't really wrap my head around why so many folks in the ward aren't reaching out to those they've been assigned stewardship over. Even if you're only able to make contact once every couple months, it's SOMETHING.
If I had more time, I'd be about ready to just print out cards saying "If you need anything, please give your Home Teachers ________ & ________ a call at, respectively ___-___-____ or ___-___-____. Or contact your Visiting Teachers ________ & ________  at ___-___-____ or ___-___-____. They'd love an opportunity to get to know, love, and serve you! ... And if they don't, give me a call at ___-___-____ or email me at ____@_____.___ and I'll set them straight at what a wonderful opportunity they're selfishly neglecting. Because you're awesome! And they should know that!"

But that might be a little, oh, passive-aggressive and overly forward, I suppose.

But, yeah. It's irritating that things like this happen.
(Since, in regards to the cleaning the Stake Center, Brother D-- is no spring chicken. Nor is he in the best of help. He shouldn't have to pick up the slack for all the people who aren't pitching in their share. *SIGH*)

But, well, it's sucky. Because I love these people ... but I also, at the same time, want to give them a GIANT kick in the bedonk-a-donk to get them into gear.

Yeah, I shouldn't talk about this aloud. Or else you're going to hear me bellow that "If we'd just GET IN GEAR and DO STUFF, we'd get blessings, y'all! And I FREAKING NEED blessings! If we'd just DO our CRAP, we'd receive more! THIS is the reason why we DON'T HAVE the SEALED SECTION of the GOLDEN PLATES! I'M TRYING to get my CRAP DONE! I'VE STARTED READING MY SCRIPTURES DAILY! NOW YOU GUYS NEED TO STEP IT UP!!!!!"

And, well, that's not the most Christlike way to address people.
Regardless of whether or not it might be true.

But, yeah ... that's about where it stands.

So ... besides that, I am toning my hair with my awesome purple shampoo. I left it in for, like, 25 minutes the other day. And Michael was impressed at how much blonder/more-platinum my hair looked. So I'm leaving it in longer today. Worst case scenario -- my hair will be a little on the lavender side. Oh, boo. (Honestly? I'd be kinda thrilled.) And I FINALLY got around to giving myself a manicure. Most of my nails (fingers and toes) are a deep nude. But my big toes and my ring fingers are sporting nail strips. Mint green with a cream/dusty rose floral print. The nude ties in with the shadows on the pinkest parts. If you care. Which you might not.

Oh, I've been talking to Bruise and Bucket about puberty.
The other day (Friday morning, before school), I was telling them about their (soon-to-develop) secondary sex characteristics [e.g., body hair, Adam's apple, breasts ...] but I also mentioned menarche and (Bruise was HORRIFIED at this) nocturnal emissions.

But, hey, at least they're aware of what fresh hell their bodies have in store for them.
I did tell them that they really didn't need to discuss this with their school chums or anything ... since it's really something that families should discuss. BUT, with all the fun-fun-fun of upcoming Sex-Ed classes, I figure that I should cover my bases as to human development and gospel doctrines and morality and expectations NOW, while they still listen to me, right?

So, that's most of our week in a nutshell.

And, from discussing with the kids this morning (about accepting God's will, even when we DO have righteous desires ... we have to learn that He does know more and will give us all what's best for us to learn. And I mentioned how we prayed [and fasted] that Kim would get better and come home to her family and us ... and that it ... ... didn't happen.
Bucket crawled into my lap and gave me a big hug. Which was nice, even though she's solid for her size (that girl, I swear, is all bones and muscle. Good for her, right?).

But, yeah. It's not fun when I drive by the road that Kim's family's old apartment is on. Or I watch some clip from Jimmy Kimmel and think that I should share that with her ... and I .... can't. But I'll deal.

I just, you know, I thought I'd be older. A LOT older. ... when I started losing friends this way.

I know it makes me sound all petulant and childish, but I don't LIKE it. Not at all.

Well, I'm going to go load the dishwasher or something. And wash this application of purple shampoo out of my hair.

THEN maybe I'll enlist Bruise and Bubbles to help me build a blanket fort where we'll eat ice cream until it's time to go pick up Bucket.
Though I'll probably be DONE with effort after I load the dishwasher and do some laundry. Or something. They house will wait another day for cleaning, I guess.

Fifteen Days Later ...

Yeah, yeah, I know. I know. It's been a while since I blogged.

I was actually going to blog YESTERDAY ... but there was a short in our phone line. Which meant that I had to spend about 24 hours with NO internet (besides the taste that I got with my data plan on my phone). Poor me, right?

What else has gone on ...

First and foremost, my friend Kim M (the friend I mentioned being on life support?) passed away last week. She had been moved to the ICU and was doing better for a bit. She was a bit responsive. She fought off a case of pneumonia and a staph infection. She got to see her girls and visit with them. ... but she really couldn't breathe. They had to make the hard decision to let her go.
And ... I understand it. I don't have to like the fact that I don't get to see her. That, like a lot of other people, she's gone somewhere that I can't follow yet. That I can't just text or call her. That I'm aware of how much her girls and husband are going to miss her.

A friend of the family started a support group  on Facebook. Its original purpose was to help pass along information and updates about her status. They organized a fast. There's a link to a GoFundMe fundraiser. The new Compassionate Service Leader in our ward (congregation) posted an opportunity to help clean up their apartment here in town and stock the freezer with some meals (Which is why I'm currently doing a few loads of their laundry. It's really the least I can do ... and it all still smells of Kim. She always smelled really nice. Even when I last saw her and she looked so sick, she still smelled so nice.) ... I took over a meatloaf for the freezer. I wrote the girls letters expressing my sympathy and that we love their mom, their family ... that we love them very much. And that their mom loves them so very, very much.

I cry a bit. When I cook (especially when I bake), I start to miss Kim a LOT. I still owe her a baking day. We were going to do it ... but I got busy, then she was in the hospital, then she was REALLY sick ... I had every hope and expectation that she'd kick this thing in the teeth, what with being up at OHSU with the best doctors around. I mean, if that young man in our ward pulled through hypothermia so bad that his heart stopped, what, six times? If he could pull through it, OF COURSE Kim could, too. I mean, I was praying, her family was praying, our wards were praying, friends of other faiths were praying ...

But, well, sometimes prayers aren't answered in the way(s) we'd like. And you have to accept that there's something bigger (and better) planned. And that, yes, it sucks ... but there's some reason behind it. Even though I just wish that I could know that reason right now. But... well... I don't.

Today was Kim's funeral. I didn't go. I kind of wanted to. But I couldn't.
Michael did. He's representing our family and our ward (along with some other members of our ward family).
But I have things here that I need to do. (Freezer meal and laundry for the family, taking the kids to their music lesson, watching T and L [friends and school chums of Bruise and Bucket]) ... things that prevent me from being in two places at the same time.

Besides, I keep crying. And I don't want people to think that I'm trying to say that this whole situation is MY grief ... Kim was loved by lots of people. LOTS. Because she's awesome. And, even though I really wasn't able to say goodbye in any REAL fashion, going to the viewing wouldn't be the same. She wouldn't smile or joke. She'd smell different. I couldn't give her a good, decent hug. It'd just be her body, not HER.
I figure that I'd rather cry by myself. This way no one thinks I'm trying to insinuate that I was closer to her than I was (friend and past Visiting Teacher) or trying to steal attention away from her family and closer friends. I know. I have issues.

.... I really wish that I'd been a better friend. For most of the summer, I wasn't aware that she'd be in the hospital. And, when she got out, I didn't know/realize that she was still so sick and could have really used a lot of help. I wish that the school schedules for her girls' school and my kids' school had been just a little more different, so I COULD have easily made pick-ups/drop-offs for both schools.  Because that would have been one less thing for her to fret about.

But ... well ... there's really no use griping about that now. It's not doing anyone any good.

But, yes, that's been a forefront thing on my mind.
And I realize that I need to get life insurance. Just in case.

Okay, okay ... other news. You don't come here to "listen" to me be all dour and melancholy. You come for the laughs, the sarcasm, the stories ... and I should get to all those kinds of things. Because writing about them is nice and light and fluffy.

This last payday, we've spent restocking our pantry and freezer. We've done so well at that, we hardly have room for all the good stuff. And I put together some freezer meals. We ate "Cafe Rio Chicken" last night (with a side of scalloped potatoes ... out of a box). It was good. Next time, I need to cut down on the cumin. There was quite a bit of heat to it. Good times. But I also have a few other meats-in-marinades in the freezers -- a pork roast with pepperoncinis, Italian-marinated beef roast, Chicken Tikka, French Chicken, Italian Chicken, Teriyaki Chicken ... stuff like that. (Gosh, I'm boring.)

These last few weeks have been pretty hard on our ward. One sister's father was in an accident. He barely survived. She and her sister are taking care of him. It's pretty stressful.
Our RS president's mother passed (she was of an age ... and was having end-of-life care at the home she was in. Still tough, but not entirely unexpected. Sister P is taking it rather well. But it's still not easy by any long shot). That funeral is Friday. ... One of the elders (guys) at church was canning tomatoes with his wife. There was a leak in the propane hose. His sons calculate there was a 30-foot fireball -- part of it got the house. This brother is sporting 2nd- and 3rd-degree burns. But he's in very good spirits ... and for how bad those burns could be, he's looking quite well (small miracles everywhere, you know?). He has a VERY strong testimony of the power of priesthood blessings and of the protection that wearing the garment can give (Seriously, I saw him shirtless. You can totally see where his garment was and was not. It's quite uncanny).

There's been a PTC (Parent Teacher Club) meeting. I chatted with our Principal a bit. And with the teacher that's the PTC-Site Committee liaison.

The kids had fun at the latest Kids' Club at the mall -- there was a magician. And origami. And painting. Bucket and I went to Claire's and I bought some peacock-feather earrings. Ended up being only a dollar (Clearance purchases for the win, right?).

Taught my nursery lessons. Those last three went SO much better than the first one. Oy.
I'm a little worried about one of the older kids in Nursery.
Seems like the child could REALLY use early intervention ... but, well, apparently that's not happening. I'm rather worried for this kid.

We fed the missionaries (sisters) dinner last week. Per Sister P's request, I made clam chowder. And cheddar biscuits and a salad to go along with it. Apparently, it's her favorite dinner ... but until lately, she'd been paired with companions who don't care for fish at all. Poor kid.

Grandma I and Aunt S (Michael's mom's mom and one of her sisters) have come out for a visit. We went over on Friday evening and spent some time visiting with them. Bubbles, not having had a nap, was a little stand-off-ish. Good thing they'll be staying for a couple weeks. That'll give us the opportunity to visit some more.
... And I've been charged to write letters to Grandma I more often. With requests for physical photographs. ... I'm given another opportunity for growth, see?

Like I mentioned earlier, Bruise and Bucket started music lessons this morning. He'll learn the cello. She's opted for violin. (Once we get a bigger house, I should practice the piano again. It's a nice outlet. Not as easy as singing, though. ... I should sing more. Just for practice and fun.)

I'm officially no longer ANY bit of the Compassionate Service Leader for our ward. I have a replacement. And she's amazing. Took off right away with everything. She and I even had a meeting where I passed on what I had ... and we talked about what I did. And she brought LOTS of GREAT ideas to the table. Sister P is very lucky to have Sister R as CS Leader. (Sister R ALSO brought over fresh apple crisp to our little meeting. Did I mention that I adore her?)

I'm about half-way through the laundry. It still smells like Kim.

(I wonder ... how do I smell to other people? ... I mean, I'd HOPE that I smell okay. But Kim always smelled REALLY GOOD. Her whole house smelled like her. Heck, I stepped into their apartment today and started welling up.)

Bucket and I went to the General Women's Meeting last Saturday. It was nice. I'm glad that they lowered the age to attend right in time for her to make it to the first one (in April). We continued what's now our tradition -- dinner out (at Applebee's so far) before the Meeting. Then she takes some cookies/treats home for Bruise and Bubbles. Sister R sat with us this time. (Last meeting, it was just Bucket and me on our regular pew ... creatures of habit. This time, we sat in a different pew.)

As I mentioned above, I had issues with the phone line this week.
I called, via my cell, yesterday morning as soon as the kids were off to school.
Talked to THREE different CSR (customer service reps).
The first one, Ashton, was nice -- personable and professional. "Hey, I'm going to butcher your name. Um ... Ah-LANN-ah?"

Me: "Actually, it's 'uh-LAW-nuh."
And he got it right from that point on. Friendly, kind ... good employee, you know?

He had to transfer me to another gal. (From all the scammer calls, it does not help that she has a bit of an accent) ... who called me "Allie-ah-na." REPEATEDLY. And had me doing contortions to unplug/replug lines from/into the wall socket (couldn't she just say, "Hey, if that's not really doable, just unplug/replug from the modem or phone itself"???? I mean, I haven't gone to modem-tech school or whatever ... but it's not rocket surgery, now is it?).

THEN I was transferred to ANOTHER GUY (also strong accent). He would talk over me and, even though I corrected him MULTIPLE TIMES (seriously, at least three. Maybe as many as five times), KEPT calling me Allie-ah-na.
"No, it's Uh-LAW-nuh."
"All right, Allie-ah-nah."
"*sigh*"

THEN, after we scheduled a repair tech to come out (because as I could have told them, nothing I do plugging and unplugging my modem will fix NOT GETTING A FREAKING DIAL TONE, y'all), he's all, "And before I let you go, do you have any questions?"
"Yes, I --"
"So, you have no questions?"
"But, I have a que--"
"If there's nothing else that you need ..."
"IF YOU'D STOP INTERRUPTING ME, I'D TELL YOU THAT, YES, I DO HAVE A QUESTION! IT'S VERY RUDE TO INTERRUPT AND TALK OVER YOUR CUSTOMER. IT'S NOT RESPECTFUL AT ALL, SIR. SO, ARE YOU ACTUALLY GOING TO BE QUIET FOR JUST ONE SECOND SO THAT I CAN ASK MY FREAKING QUESTION?!???"
"... yes."
"OKAY. *breath* If I need to cancel the appointment that MIGHT end up costing a minimum of $80 if the error is on our end, what phone number do I call?"
" ... ###-###-####."
"Thank you. *mutters to self* 'Was that really so hard? Really?'"
(Mom's right. I should ask to speak to a supervisor after a telephone conversation that irritating. And I should take names, for sure.)

I called Michael and vented/appraised him of the situation.
I had to repeat myself a lot, since I was VERY FRUSTRATED (i.e., crying).
He ended up bringing me flowers and chocolates when he came home.
(Also can you tell that someone just might, possibly, be having the painters in? [e.g., "I'm in a glass case of emotion!!!"])

This morning, I got the kids up earlier than usual (so we could be on time to music lessons). They got dressed, made their lunches, packed their backpacks, got teeth brushed, shoes on. We had our morning devotional-thing (Sing a hymn. Read the scriptures from the references at the bottom of the page. Read the history of the hymn. Have a prayer. Read a bit about etiquette). I packed up all the library books to return. We headed out for the car (the kids almost didn't grab their backpacks), took them to music lessons (at their school). Once they were settled, Bubbles and I ran by the library to return the books, then to the store to get WIC stuff (better last second than never). By the time we got back home, it was still about a half-hour before the window for the repair tech.

But he was there! Working on the phone box! We chatted. He came in and checked the jack (and had trouble reaching that. Went back outside to check things. Got a dial tone inside. Checked one more thing. Power-cycled the modem. HUZZAH! We're back in business.

Oh, I could have hugged him.
He was supernice. Very professional. Quite wonderful.
I did get his card and his supervisor's number. Called and left a message praising his work and manner.

He also told me that if it gets to the point where we need to power-cycle our modem often (like once a day), then replacing the modem is in the near future. Which is really good to know.

Then I fixed a freezer meal (a meatloaf, since Kim said that her husband is a real meat-and-potatoes kind of guy), chatted with Sister R via IM, talked to my mom ... headed over and picked up laundry to wash/dry/fold, vacuumed our front room (since Bruise and Bucket's friends will be over today).

Bubbles hasn't had a nap ... I say that, then look over to where she's on the couch. Asleep. She crashed while watching Wall-E. (It's a very soothing soundtrack.)

I should go make something yummy for the kids as a snack.
Or I'll just give them popsicles. Either or.

I'm about ready for a nap, myself. Not going to happen.

I should figure out dinner.

I don't know when Michael's getting back tonight.
Kim's funeral was at 10 AM in Hermiston. I don't know how long it lasts. I just know that he'll be home tonight ... and working tomorrow morning.


Is it just me ... or is it a common thing ... when things get bad, I just want to curl up in someone's lap. Maybe cry, maybe not.
But I'm far too ... um ... zaftig, per se, to be able to fold myself up decently, let alone fit in most laps.

Well, I have laundry to fold and dinner to figure out. And ... something ... something to bake.

I really like having working phone and internet. Even though I did get some reading done, I really like having wi-fi. It's just rather comforting knowing that I can look up things on my computer and my tablet without having to type it all on my phone or chance using up all our data for the month.

Venting

So, as the wife of an Elders Quorum President (the guy who presides over the Elders [the guys who are over 18 who aren't high priests ... yeah, I'm not good at explaining it all, since I'm not in EQ or High Priests, but bear with me] ... in simplest terms, a group of guys in a class/group at church), I sometimes am employed as an unofficial EQ Secretary. (I answer the phone when people call the house to ask Michael to arrange some elders to go over and help people move or arrange a couple elders to go give someone a blessing or whatever and he's not already home ... or, since I know a lot of people in the ward on Facebook, sometimes I'm asked to get hold of someone we've had no luck reaching any other way ...)

Which brings me to today .... .... .... Yeah.

SO, there's a family in our ward/congregation. I've known the husband for AGES. We grew up together. I was in Sunday School classes with one of his sisters. He and his family are in our ward. And we've only run into each other at church once.

For the last year (or thereabouts), he won't return phone calls or texts or anything. But I have him as a friend on Facebook.

So, per Michael's request, since he's not returned anyone's calls or whatever for the last few (many) months, I sent him a FB message and a text. This week, the EQ presidency (president, first and second counselors, and their secretary) are getting together with the Stake Presidency to visit some families in the ward. They were hoping to visit this family.

I sent a message and text that pretty much said, "Hey! This is Allanna! Are you and your family up for a visit at date/time? If not, get back to me! If I don't hear back from you, expect a visit! :)"

.... .... ....

Well, a couple hours later, I get a fb message:
I do not appreciate the manipulative manner in which you have attempted to illicit a response from me. If and when I am comfortable having you in my home, I will invite you - not the other way around. Until such a time should occur, please refrain from further manipulative communications. So, since I am not one who likes conflict or irritating/offending others, I figure that I can apologize ... even though I KNOW that asking for an RSVP is not usually classified as "manipulative" behavior. I wrote back:

You're right, [Name] ... I was not my best. I will admit that you're totally justified in calling me out on that. Michael (and his secretary, Brother [Secretary]) have had no luck whatsoever in touching bases with you. I was hoping that I might have better success. And I see that I was wrong.

I'm sorry. I do feel bad that you feel very disrespected. You have every right to your feelings.

I don't want to be a bother or offensive to you. And I'm sorry that I was.

What can I do to make things right? Because I do like you. I miss seeing you around, like when we were in the Canyonville Ward.

Please accept my apology for being a complete dunderhead and all other insults that I deserve. I wasn't trying to be a jerk. ... I just seem to have that talent. Which I will work on not having.

Sorry.

And then I went through feeling HORRIBLE because I've apparently been an awful, manipulative person. I called Michael and let him know what was up. I tried to stop crying, wracking my brain to figure how I messed this up. I called my mom (who knows this other party) ... and she assured me that I wasn't being a manipulative wretch. And, after Michael got home, he told me point-blank that I wasn't being manipulative. That this friend has been blowing off EVERYONE for ... well, nearly a year ... and that this was rather a last resort, since he never responds to anyone else (and, if Michael drops by, they don't answer the door). Michael's frustrated that [Name] isn't being gutsy enough to tell anyone that they don't want visits ... and that he then does this. I took a shower ... and cried some more (better than emotional eating, right? Right??) ... and I passed from being a sad-sack into crossing the threshold into near-blinding rage.

• Seriously, I've known this guy for over TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. He knows me. He knows that I'm generally a good person. He probably is also aware that I can be a really sensitive person. And that I do my best not to be easily offended. And that I do my damndest not to offend others ... especially on purpose. I try NOT to be manipulative. I CAN be ... but I really try not to coerce others. Because it's not kind or right. And I want to be like Jesus, dammit. (Saying "damn so much is not very Christlike. I know. I'm human ... I'm aware.)
• He could have JUST AS EASILY written something a heckuva lot more tactful. (e.g., "I'm sorry, Allanna. That doesn't fit our schedule. We're not up for visits at all. In fact, take us off the church records." OR "No, that doesn't work for us. Maybe we could meet up at a park or something in the summer." OR "Nope. Doesn't work." OR "Not ready for a visit. Put us as DNC (Do Not Contact)." ... ANY OF THOSE WOULD WORK AND NOT RESORT TO CALLING ME NAMES WHEN I'M ONLY TRYING TO HELP MY HUSBAND AND A FRIEND.

I mean, I'm not a really violent person. But, if I could quit seeping tears (now of rage instead of self-pity), I almost feel like punching something. Like this guy.

I mean, really ... "Silence implies consent" is a totally valid thing. If guys say it, they're not accused of being manipulative. They're lauded as leaders. When people are doing social things, being asked to RSVP is not out of the ordinary. You don't hear people getting invitations getting all pissy about saying if they can make it or not. Yes, I GET that it's a VISIT to THEIR HOUSE ... but this is NOT something out of the ordinary in our church. In fact, a family SHOULD be getting a visit from their home teachers AND a visit from their visiting teachers ... TWO visits per month! He grew up in this church. His dad (and granddad) have both been BISHOPS of the ward ... As my mom pointed out ... and Michael and I agree ... something is going on. And it's something that makes him uncomfortable ... uncomfortable enough to take it out on me. I mean, if I'm being manipulative, it's like Hello Kitty-level manipulation. If need be, I can TOTALLY pull out the big guns and be all Maleficent-level. But that's not really helping anyone. So, yeah ... I'm just really irked and more irked. I try to do something good. And ... well, THIS. I know, I know ... I need to take it on the chin. To have skin soft as rose petals and thick as naugahyde. I'm working on it. Still, if I didn't feel so blindsided by this, it'd be easier to deal with.

Progress ... and regress

So, we went grocery shopping last night.

If nothing else, the kids have enough stuff for school lunches for the rest of the school year (we're getting close! Eeeps!).

I made a casserole (Tortilla Bake) for a surprise potluck for their school's Principal.

I picked up my friend's daughter ... and went to talk with my friend, since she'll need childcare on the day of her surgery.
Turns out that the appointment the doctors FINALLY got set up ... is a CONSULT, not a surgery appointment.

WHAT THE WHAT?!?!????

So, on the good side, it looks like I won't have to scramble for childcare on the same day as Michael's birthday and one of the local high school's graduation ceremony.

The bad side ... my friend is in PAIN. And can't drive due to the medicine to control said pain.
And the receptionist seems to treat her like a halfwit.
And I'm just getting frustrated and worried trying to figure out what all to do.

And I KNOW that there are pregnant gals in the ward. But I don't know when they're due ... but I want to make sure that we get meals for them ...

MY HEAD EXPLODE.

But ... yeah.

And the gorram, stupidhead cat peed on our bed yesterday. So we had to change the sheets when we were getting ready for bed.

I still love her. But I gave her a kitty Prozac. And I tossed her out of the bedroom this morning as soon as I got up, since Michael leaves the bedroom door open in the morning.

SO YAY MOAR LAUNDRY!!!!!!
Not. Not yay at all.

And the funeral is today. I should get dressed for it soon ... like in a couple hours.

I just don't really know what to do.
CALLINGS ARE HAAAAAARD.

Seriously, I know that I griped about all the meetings as YW Secretary ... and it's infuriating trying to get 3-8/9 people all to give you information ... but DAMN my calendars/newsletters looked AWESOME. And I had fun making birthday cards for the girls (I AM a MS Publisher fangirl. I know.).

But ... yeah. I just want people to be healthy and happy and self-sufficient.
And, for now, part of my job is getting them what they need to get there.

But, goodness, this is a pretty big situation ... since my friend has been in pain for a LONG time.
And, well, another gal that I know got in THE NEXT DAY for the same kind of surgery.
So this is blowing my mind ... and not in a good way.

I offered to junk-punch someone, even though I'm too pretty for prison.
But I'm so dang frustrated for my friend.
This is NOT COOL.

I just ... I want to know what to do, when I need to assign people to do stuff.
(I got an email back from a gal I emailed last night, asking if she could provide a dinner "tomorrow" ... Sent it LAST NIGHT, so tomorrow = today. She didn't look at the date stamp on the email. So ... Yeah. Whatever. I'll just do it myself. Because I love my friend. And I can grab a pizza and take it over.)

I know, I know ... I should have put "Tomorrow, June 5" or "Wednesday" ... but, well, after TWO other people couldn't do it, I ... yeah. I just was TRYING to get SOMETHING set up.

The Church is still true. Don't get me wrong.
But ... sometimes dealing with people on a general basis ... it's not the easiest.
Even if I love them.

But ... yeah.

So, um ... could you all just pray that my friend gets in for surgery soon? Because, well, it needs to get done so she can feel better. Because pain = NOT FREAKING FUN OR GOOD.

... which is why I don't exercise as much as I should.
True story.
That and I don't like being all sweaty. And it's difficult and expensive to find sports bras in my size.

Challenges ...

Maybe I'll get a fun title ... or, at least, a creative one ... but right now ... no.

So ... I'm sure everyone's aware of how there was a bombing at the Boston Marathon (well, thanks, Allanna's subconscious. You almost had me write "Boston Massacre." And, though rather apt, that's not what it was supposed to be.)

(Yes, I just talked to my subconscious there. What, you mean you don't?)

But, yeah ... I'm in a bit of a funk.
And when I say a bit ... I mean A LOT.
Because I am generally a happy-ish-type person.
And I don't feel happy much at all right now.

And, NO, it's not my period. Thanks for asking.

But the fact is that, yes, bad things happen. People are suffering. Some lost their life or a loved one. Many more were injured. There's a picture making its way around Facebook (and yes, I did check for authenticity. Because I HATE it when things are posted that aren't confirmed truth. Sadly, this IS.) with a man who lost at least one leg (below the knee). ... And, according to the news reports, out of the 170 or so injured, there were a LOT of amputees.

And an eight-year-old boy was killed ... out of three deaths, one was so young.

Nevertheless, things like this SHOULD NOT HAPPEN.
I want to know what someone would think to explain that behavior ... and, well, then I DON'T want to know. Because, regardless of any explanation which MIGHT make some semblance of reason for this to occur, there's the fact that it SHOULD NOT HAPPEN.

I feel angry. And helpless. And depressed. And irritated.
All rolled up into some little hedgehog-ball of upset ... with a soft underbelly of hurting.

Because, well, I can't even imagine what those runners and their friends and families are going through.
I can't imagine how it could be to go run in a marathon ... and then end the day with the possibility of never running again.

This is bollocks, y'all. Total bollocks.
Why can't we just be freaking NICE to each other?
Why do we, as a species, target each other? It doesn't make sense.

I just want to go and smack everyone up the head and be all, "You're a FREAKING CHILD OF GOD. HE LOVES YOU. HE LOVES EVERYONE. SO JUST GO AND TREAT EVERYONE WITH LOVE, DAMMIT!"

But, well, wouldn't that be a bit hypocritical and counter-productive?
I think it might be. Just a titch. (WARNING: UNDERSTATEMENT ALERT)

Seriously ... what is it with the fact that every time I try and do something frigging RIGHT, crap blows up (not always literally) ... but still. What the aitch is UP with that?

(Satan, that's what. Because he wants me to just give up and be a spiritual slug ... amirite?)

(Oh gosh, now I have SNL's The Church Lady in my brain. That usually just happens when Mom and I sit next to each other in Sunday School. Then we'll whisper "Could it be ... SATAN!?!?" or "Well, isn't that special?" to each other. Yes, there's a reason my mom is one of my besties. Many reasons, actually. But that is one of them.)

BUT!!
Where was I? Ah, yes!
SO, yesterday started out fiiiiiiiine -- I got the kids off to school (even though Bucket's lunchbag appears to be missing. Again.), Bubbles and I said an itsty prayer together (never too early to start a habit, right? And I should be doing WAY stinkin' better at instilling this into ALL the children. And myself.). Eventually, I got breakfast and did some laundry. ... And I got the news about Boston.

I don't really know anyone in Boston ... do I?
Thankfully, all my friends' friends (that THEY know) who were in the Marathon are safe and accounted for.

I read my scriptures ... blogged about that.
Started another spiritual/scriptural-type challenge ... Voices for Virtue created a 40-day challenge.

In the shortest terms possible, here it is: Read one conference talk per day for 40 days (with the exception of one day when you read the Sustaining of the Church Officers and the Auditing report and the Statistical report ... because those are all rather short)

So, yeah ... I started doing that, too. Since it STARTED yesterday. And, well, why not?
I mean, if it's so important for us to receive this revelation as a whole church, shouldn't I actually, you know, better acquaint myself with it?

Yesterday, also, my language practice SUCKED. Seriously sucked. German conjunctions and Spanish questions (Que, Donde, and so on ... and, yes, I DON'T have the accents on there. Because I'm lazy and peevish.) ... they just were NOT happening.

But, regardless, I DID read my scriptures and the opening remarks for Conference.
Did I feel tons better? ... I really couldn't say. Mostly because, well, if you usually feel around an 80 and then you feel around a -500, feeling around a -75 is better, but not great.

Today's reading was Elder Packer's talk. And it was a nice talk. I do worry, though, that he's not going to be with us a terribly lot longer. And that makes me sad.
He talks of how much wisdom he's gained ... and how, even though it's so hard to move about and do things he used to love, he wouldn't change that ... because the knowledge and experience he's gained is so precious to him.
He also talks of complacency and protecting the home and family against the bad things that are out there.

However, with what happened yesterday ... I keep thinking more toward one of the last talks given in Conference. Elder Bruce D. Porter gave a talk, "Beautiful Mornings."
And I liked how it was summed up over at The Latter-day Snark ... about how it wasn't so much about why bad things happen to good people, but more about who cares why bad things happen to good people.
I did give it a quick read-over ... and, yes, I feel more better than I did before I read it.

I do have a testimony that, through Heavenly Father's plan of happiness, that things will work out.
(Which reminds me of another conference talk, President Uchtdorf's "The Hope of God's Light.")

I know that we will have trials here on earth. And that we have the opportunity to learn and to grow from the trials that we and others face. It's not always going to be easy or fun ... But there will be good to balance out all the suck that is in the world. And, without all the bad, how would we even recognize what is good? ... So I do have to be thankful for the bad, too. (Though I might not be as grateful for it as I probably should be.)

I'm grateful for the Atonement ... so that we have a sure witness that everything WILL be right. Maybe not right now, but eventually. I'm glad to know that the people affected by the bombing will be made whole and perfect again.

It's just trudging through the figurative mud here that is hard. But we'll get by, right?
(If you're not sure, we do have it on good authority that we WILL. It just takes time and effort.)

Okay, so I should read my scriptures for the day ... Mosiah 9:1-9:19

• Okay, I had to go to the actual scriptures to make more sense of all this ... Chapter headings make like a LOT easier. So, now Ammon and Limhi and everyone are reading the plates Limhi's people found (So, they were translated! Whoot!) ... and it's the record of a civilization that came before.
• Zeniff is the part of a group who've left Zarahemla for the land of Lehi-Nephi He knows how to read and write (obvs, or else we wouldn't have this record). He spies on the Lamanite forces ... but, when he observes them , he realizes that there's a lot of good ... so he doesn't think that his group should wipe the Lamanites out. 
• However, the leader of the group is more bloodthirsty and doesn't really care for the idea of making a treaty with the Lamanites. So much so that he wants to put Zeniff to death for daring to question orders. He's spared due to a civil war fought among their own people. He is one of the few (it sounds like less than half of the original troop survived) that returns to Zarahemla to report to the families.
• Still, they REALLY want to regain the land of their ancestors, so they head back ... but, since they're not as righteous as they should be, they have a lot of trials (famine and "sore affliction," which always makes me think of boils ... but I'm sure that's not it. Or, at least not all of it.)
• Eventually, they return to where they started (where the original group camped, at least, before the civil war) ... They meet with the Lamanite leader who, remarkably, is pretty cool with the transfer of land. They agree to make a peaceful transfer ... his people leave the land of Lehi-Nephi and Shiom.
• BUT!! King Laman was a crafty guy ... after the Nephites move in, build their homes, establish farms ... really get settled in, he plans to get the Nephites into bondage and repossess their lands.
• But, like the Israelites in Egypt (as in "Tell old Pharaoh 'Let my people go!" ... you know, the story of Moses?), the Nephites were prosperous and, well, there were a LOT of them. So King Laman is forced to act sooner rather than later.
• The Lamanites are a society where there's not such the great work ethic, apparently ... and they really, really want to have all the food and flocks that the Nephites have raised (Kinda like the dog and the cat in "The Little Red Hen." You know, they don't help out, but they're more than happy to offer to eat the bread. Should I have prefaced that with "Spoiler Alert?" :P)
  So, under the king's direction, they start fighting with the Nephites and taking the crops and flocks of those they overtake.
• The Nephites that aren't killed in the raids flee to the main city with its stronghold and beg Zeniff for protection. He arms them with all the weapons he can get his hands or or create ... and they go to battle with the Lamanites, crying to the Lord for help.
• There's a huge battle ... In about 24 hours, they slay 3,043 Lamanites. Eventually, the Lamanites are driven back out of the land of Lehi-Nephi. The Nephites bury the dead, including their own 279 casualties.

I'm not totally sure what all I should be learning from this. ... I mean, it's really good to have a good work ethic. And to pray when you're doing hard/dangerous things. There is the whole similarity of the Nephites and Israel in Egypt ... I don't know that I really noticed that before.

But ... yeah.

Well, my mental health number is a bit better than it was earlier. 

Apparently the migraine that Michael came home with must have gone away ... since he went to work and everything. We're counting down to our vacation ... I'm trying not to freak out. Because, apparently, I am a  control freak and I'm trying to figure out how to keep the kids entertained on a long car trip (and that's IF we don't get in a traffic jam) and what all to pack for food and how many pairs of underwear we all need ... and how many diapers to bring (because, after getting urine in my FACE last time, if a certain child of mine does not empty his bladder out? He's going to pee into a diaper, so help me. Because, face it, you do NOT need to use the bathroom every half-hour. Especially in HEAVY TRAFFIC. Just sayin'.)

And I'm gearing up to wear a swimsuit. Please send me the mental fortitude to deal with the idea of people seeing me in a swimsuit ... because I am NOT in shape like I was when I was a teenager. Also, I am so pasty-white that I practically glow in the dark. ... However, since I colored my hair (red), it's rather fitting for that. But still ... I don't like being in a swimsuit in front of people so much. I like swimming and playing in the water too much to let it stop me ... but, oh, goodness. First world problems, amirite?

And we need to get an oil change and vacation is coming up fast and ... oh, I think my brain is going to explode and leak out my ears. Until we head off ... then I'll be okay. It's just that I'm bad with anticipation. It apparently freaks me out. So I live in denial until it's too late ... I freak out and try to get everything done ... and then I can have a good time.

It's exactly what I do when I gear up for a performance.
Fun times, right?

Opening night ...

Well, the house is MOSTLY clean-ish ... It could be a lot worse.

Mom C will watch the kids tonight (and bring them to the performance). My mom will watch them (and the performance) tomorrow night. Then a couple of gals in the ward will be taking on babysitting duties. Closing night, the kids will be up at Mom C's with some cousins ... then Michael and I will swing on up, nab them, bring them home, put them to bed ... and clean Michael up.

A client (older man) referred to Michael's facial hair as "cute."
Yeah ... he got some flack from everyone about that.
Just the word choice cracks me up.

I got some more sleep yesterday ... woke up before my alarm and couldn't fall back asleep. Oh well.
Going to make at least one dinner ... maybe prep some more. We'll see how awesome/motivated I get.

I really almost wish that it were already around 5 PM so that I could just get this performance STARTED.
That's the fun of opening night ... and, well, the fun of EVERY performance. Opening night, though ... that's when we have the biggest jitters.

Bubbles' doctor visit went fine. She's been declared "perfect." Her skull is almost totally fused closed, the big kid. She got three immunizations ... she took them well enough. A little crying, but once I held her she calmed down. She's got a large head circumference. Nothing freakish. Her doctor proclaimed that it's just "full of brains" ... along with being a beautiful child.

She did flirt with the few people in the waiting room. She had the play table all to herself ... and enjoyed crawling under the chairs.

Every so often she (along with Bruise and Bucket) will do something and I'll see, just for an instant, a glimpse of the adult she's growing into. And ... it strikes me.
At the same time, I'm glad that they're going to be such good-looking adults.

-------------

I'm still stuck on thinking about the whole situation at Steubenville ... It's just so wrong.
These kids there need adults to be leaders and teachers -- to teach what is and is not proper behavior, how to follow laws, how to treat each other -- regardless of one's sport status or gender or whatever.

I've started, from a young age, teaching my brood about their bodies. We've always used the terms "penis" and "vagina," partly because that's what they ARE ... and partly because children who can use the proper terms are less likely to be victimized.

I've also worked to teach them about treating others well. And that you don't touch other people's private parts or let others touch yours (with a few exceptions -- your spouse, your doctor as needed, things like that).

I also have felt the need to impress upon them that if they (or someone they know) is acted upon by another person who does something to them without permission, it is NOT their fault. The person acting upon them made a decision that impacted them. THAT person, not the victim/survivor is to blame.

I'm just getting REALLY FED UP with things that need to change. Like a person who says that we need to teach people not to rape deserves to have horrible things happen to her for saying such a crazy, outlandish idea.

I am more offended that these nay-sayers seem to feel that it's the default of men TO rape.
I am surrounded by wonderful men who would be aghast at the idea that all women, everywhere, should live in constant fear of all men turning into base creatures that have no choice but to force themselves upon others.

I'm just going to come out and say it: THIS IS STUPID. IT'S RUBBISH. IT'S BULL.

And I'm going to take a deep breath, flex my hands out of fists, and just hope and pray that things will get better.

And, until it does, I'm teaching my children to deal with what might happen ... though I really wish I never felt a need to. I'd love for them to be able to go out into the world without worrying about what someone might do. I wish I didn't have to instill a core of steel into their sweet, innocent hearts.

But I do.
Because some parents and leaders aren't doing their jobs.
Because some people are not in control of themselves.
Because some people don't care.
And that sucks. A lot.

So I will teach my kids to respect themselves. To respect others. To be brave and take a stand if they see anyone needing help. To know how to call 911. To know that they can tell Michael and me anything and that we will still love them. To stand up to "friends" ... and even their true friends, if need be. To protect themselves. To protect others. To stand up and give a voice to those who can't or don't know how to protect themselves. To know they can always turn to others for help, especially their Heavenly Father who is always with them ... because Michael and I can't always be there ourselves. To respect the privacy and needs of other people. To serve others.

And other things ... like what "consent" really is (if someone cannot say "no," then assume that it IS "no." You have to ensure they ARE saying ... and continuing to say "yes."). What masculinity really is and is not. That femininity is not purely submissive. The purpose of our bodies (i.e., the sacred power of procreation ... which, understanding that, helps to respect our bodies and others' bodies).

There are times when I can tell that I'm getting through ... like how Bruise knows that women have breasts (and men have nipples too) because we're mammals ... and their primary purpose is to feed babies. The kids know that they'll someday make babies with their future spouses ... and that they shouldn't do that before they're legally and lawfully married. As a sign of respect for both their spouse and themselves. They know that "penis," "vagina," and even "testicles" are real words ... not jokes or something to giggle at whenever they hear the words.

I have a lot of work ahead of me ... and I'm so scared sometimes at what might happen to them. Some news stories out there are so, so awful ... things happening to little babies and young children, people who can't even defend themselves against the strength and cunning of some wicked, depraved adults out there.

What can you really do?
Teach them as best as you can.
Make sure they know that they can always come to you, that they can ask you anything.
Pray for them, even fasting for them.
Love them as best as you can.
Letting them know, through word and deed, that you have their back, you WILL protect them.

If there's anything else ... well, I'll try to learn it so that I can do it.

Because, well, if I screw this up ... would I ever really forgive myself?

Truly, if my kids EVER took part in something like what happened in Stuebenville ... or stood by while something like that happened ... I would, honestly, believe that I had FAILED my children and my community as a parent.

And, if they were at such a party and stood up against the tide of peer pressure, protecting another person? Even if they were arrested for being there, I'd throw them a freaking PARTY ... and I'd invite the arresting officers (since they were doing their job. And I support that). Cake and sparkling cider for everyone, because my child(ren) did what was right. And I want the world to know that I am celebrating that fact!

There's enough glorifying the crimes and their perpetrators.
I say that we start celebrating the heroes in the world ...  Let's start showing appreciation and honor for people who are working to change the bad.

Let's bring it.

resulting in disappointment

So ... I'm going to buck up, put on my big girl panties, and deal with it.

But ... I'm a bit disappointed in the election results.

I had hoped that Romney would be elected. Because, really, his stances on most issues are the closest to mine.

And, really, Obama hasn't kept all that many of the campaign promises he made last year. I'm still HELLA irritated that Obamacare was passed without us knowing what all is really in it. So much for transparency.
(Though, as Michael pointed out, if Obama repealed NCLB [No Child Left Behind], I'd probably feel better.)

But, I had also hoped that if Romney had been elected, that this country would start knowing that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints aren't all just crazy, polygamous, women-hating cultists who have horns and worship a guy from New York ... or a flaming lizard. (No, really, I hear the most interesting theories about my religion sometimes.

And people would know that we're not Amish, either.

Most of the other state issues went with how I voted ... So I can feel better about that.

Michael and I did our best to vote almost every single incumbent out ... unless we had a very good reason to keep one in. But I don't think we did.

Seriously, how Congress has been all "If you people don't like what we're doing and approve our pay raises and all, we're going to CUT [Medicare/Veteran Benefits/Education Spending/Etc.]!!!!!" ... and that just pisses me off.

My mom and I agree that The House and Senate should NOT be allowed to vote for their own pay raises.
We also are of the opinion that their benefits should be completely cut ... they should be required to have the same health/life insurance that is available to the public. And their paychecks should be much more similar, too.

Heck, I'm all for Benjamin Franklin's stance on what Congress should be paid ... It should be done by volunteers. Seriously ... this way, after four years, they would be ready to reenter the work force. They'd do it out of the goodness of their hearts, out of real concern for their constituents.

But, yeah ... like they're going to actually do that.

Man, I am feeling really jaded about politics ... and I had hoped that, after the election, I could feel happy about it. But, not really ... I mostly feel tired. And disappointed ...

... but, well, I can feel better that, with the popular vote, it was PRETTY DARN CLOSE.

It would have been lots worse if Romney had lost by a complete landslide.

It'll be interesting to see what the next four years have in store ... I sure hope that gas prices go down.
And, if we're going to be fined/taxed for my not having health insurance, I hope that they actually get health insurance prices to go WAY down. (Seriously, health insurance has not gotten ANY more affordable since 2008. Wasn't that part of Obamacare??)

But, yeah ... I'm mostly just really tired of this all.

About half the people on Facebook are gloating that their guy win. The other half are lamenting the state of the nation, foreseeing calamity and destruction just around the corner. There are a few who are being graceful losers (and a few graceful winners) ... but those are pretty few and far between.

I am thinking that I'm just not going to post anything about it.
I mean, yeah, I'm disappointed ... but ... it's not like my saying anything about it would change anything.

Of course, I almost feel that my vote was wasted ... which sucks.
Especially when there are too many outspoken people on facebook (bloggers that I follow, not personal friends ... well, most of them), who claim that voting for Romney is voting for a man who hates women, liberty, and is the devil incarnate who would pander only to corporations and eat the young of the lower-classes while bathing in the blood of puppies. Or something to that effect.

I was really hoping that he'd win and get the country in better shape within the next two years (as opposed to four years without much as-promised change), just to shut those nay-sayers up.

I just want results. And I want them NOW. I want gas prices and health insurance and cost of living DOWN. I want people to HAVE jobs and security. I want our nation to be self-sufficient. I want higher education to be affordable. I think that we should subsidize the arts, like they do in Europe. I think that prisons should be places of punishment, not vacation homes (seriously, if WE can't afford to have a weight room or cable, neither should murderers, rapists, or puppy-kickers). I think that we should punish rapists and child abusers more. I think that the banks that put our country into this mess should pay back the money we gave them, with a FREAKING DECENT INTEREST RATE, and start doing what they promised -- loaning money so that we have GROWTH happening and jobs available!! I think we should start taxing companies prohibitively who outsource jobs overseas (because, face it ... money talks. If we get it so that keeping jobs HERE has a positive effect on their bottom lines, companies will DO IT). I think, that if people are so concerned about weight management, we should subsidize gym memberships (or, at least, exercise equipment). I think that we should implement more public transit. I think that libraries are even MORE vital to communities during a recession, and their funding should be supplemented, not cut. I think that all public servants should save their districts/states money by only allowing room/board and basic needs to be covered by taxpayer money ... the rest they do through their own savings and concern for their constituents. I think the we need to start getting it so that people on welfare can get OFF welfare. It needs to be a temporary measure. Once people are able to take care of themselves, they'll have more self-respect and be more involved in what THEY can do ... as opposed to what the county/country can do for THEM.

I mean, really, is that so much to ask?

... Don't answer that. I don't think I could take it today.

F is for ...

• Friday
• Fetus
• Flip
• Frustration
• Failure

Yeah, it's been an interesting week.

Got through Monday and Tuesday, even with Michael in class.
Pasta and chicken for dinner Monday. Tuna Melts/Grilled Cheese (for Bruise) on Valentine's Day.
(Because NOTHING says "love" like breath reminiscent of cat food, no?)

Michael brought me roses. We watched "The Business of Being Born" while I sat on my Yoga Ball, trying to turn this dang baby vertex. She moves ALL THE TIME.

Wendesday, Mom had a hair appointment at a local salon (Her hair is adorable. Brandi does good work), so I went to my appointment by myself. ... Where, even though I'm healthy and all ... we found out that Miss BabyGirl flipped to breech again.
Which explained the heartburn returning. Ugh.

So, Michael and I had a day to decide what to do about this.
Our options:

• Wait (for labor) and See (where the head is)
  - Vertex = have this baby
  - Breech = try an external version (HOPE IT WORKS) and have this baby -OR- (if it doesn't work) have a C-section.
• Come in for an induction
  - If she's vertex, go for it ... Before she moves again.
  - If she's not, do an external version ... then go for it.

So, after thinking and praying, I start calling the clinic at 8 AM, when it opens.
My doctor, I'm told, won't be in until 9 ... so I wait until then. And I leave a message. Almost every hour. Since, before I make a final decision, I REALLY have a couple questions.
I end up on hold, at one point, for ten minutes. Then I hang up, call back ... and am on hold again for ANOTHER TEN MINUTES.
So frustrated that I'm nearly sobbing and ready to throw the damn phone across the room.
So I call back, AGAIN, and get through the back office ... and that gets some results.
I'm told that I should get a call in a certain time frame (and I do). Which is a HUGE improvement.

My possible yeast infection (yes! Another one! Joy! /sarcasm) is not an issue.
The version then induction has a slightly higher percentage for success than just waiting and seeing ... So, since I'm really trying to avoid having to be sliced open (Seriously, I had to avert my eyes when seeing a c-section on film ... and I have children who don't always remember to be careful and not to HURTLE HEAD-FIRST into people's abdomens ... Yes, this is self-preservation happening here), we set up an appointment for inducing.

Michael and I would go to the hospital at 8:30 in the morning ... and, I should have a baby ... even if it took over 24 hours of labor (since you never know now long it'd take the Pitocin to kick in. ... I have a friend who had to be induced, what, THREE times for one of her kiddos. When I was having Bruise and Bucket, the Pitocin didn't take until the second try ... so I knew what I was getting in for) ... and, well, then I could stop worrying about which position this BabyGirl was in. I could get on with my life. I could know that I wouldn't be in the hospital after a certain date. I could make plans to ATTEND things (like one of my absolute bestie's baby shower) ... I could get rid of the swelling in my feet and ankles (that's moving up my calves. *sigh* ... At least my blood pressure's still doing well. So, no preeclampsia. Let's do dodge that bullet. PLEASE. I hate that MagSulfate drip. Ugh.)

SO, Friday morning, I'm getting out of the shower (Michael took the day off work. Mom was staying up. Michael let me shower first), aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand there's a phone call.
My appointment to come in is, effectively, cancelled. There aren't enough rooms. (Turns out there were two unplanned C-sections that occurred.)
I was SO UPSET.
So I cried. Good thing I hadn't put on make-up yet.

Got the kids off to school, Mom left for home, Michael paid off the van and did a few errands. Picked the kids up from school ... and got a phone call that, HEY, there SHOULD be room for you this late afternoon.
So, we finished errands and got ready for the hospital. And went.

We got there, got settled in, I got my IV prep and everything ... and then we checked where BabyGirl's head was.
Under my rib.
OF FREAKING COURSE.

So, we did a version.
Imagine me (not a small girl) on my back on a hospital bed. My doctor and a midwife ALSO on the bed, pushing and shoving at my uterus. My nurse is holding my hand. Another is observing. (Yup, add YET ANOTHER person to the list of "people who've seen my ladybits. ... I used to be modest. I used to have some modicum of pride. ... That's obviously all over.)
My doctor has to take breaks to grab the ultrasound transductor (or whatever the thing is) to see where this child's head is ... And FINALLY they get her moved to vertex.
And she has her HANDS in front of her head ... so we have to wait for her to move them before starting an induction ... since if the hands are in the way, that'd be an automatic C-section. Which we're trying to avoid.

By the by, as the version is happening, I'm doing some yoga-ish breaths. Every so often, they ask me how I'm doing. "Oh ... *breath* I'm not comfortable, per se ... but it's not as bad as a kidney stone. I know that much." "If it's available, I'll take some Fentanyl now." (They laughed at that one. I wasn't completely joking. Just for the record.)
But my nurse assured me, after it was over, that I was very brave and took it really well. Sometimes the medicine (didn't catch the name. Something that starts with a B) to relax the uterus can make patients REALLY anxious, since it can accelerate the heart rate. But, hey, I was doing my YOGA-BREATHS. Even though I wasn't WEARING them, I had my (proverbial) big girl panties.

And, WOW. I can tell you that an external version?
It's not comfortable.
I was told by a hospital worker that afterwards I shouldn't be sore.
THAT WAS A LIE. I am a little sore.
... Which should tell you EXACTLY how stubborn this freaking child is.
(She gets it naturally, though. Both Michael and I can be EXTREMELY stubborn. Good thing we agree on 98% of things. Or that'd be a BAD DAY).

So, we wait the two hours to see if BabyGirl will stay vertex and move her damn hands ... so that I can HAVE this baby and deal with real life as a previously-pregnant land whale.
I get to watch Jeopardy!, which is a plus.

And then, when my doctor came back ... BabyGirl was back to breech.
(Explaining the heartburn. AGAIN.)

SO. FRAKKING. FRUSTRATING.
So, they sent us home ... obviously, we're just doing the "wait and see" ... since we've tried all other options that aren't a C-section.

Another funny thing, though, as a distraction:
This was the first time I got to meet this midwife.
And after the version, as we chatted just a little, she asks me, "Do you have a sister? You look REALLY familiar."
"No. I'm an only child."
"Huh. How strange. Because you look really familiar."
"... Do you know [Bri]?"
"YES!! She's one of my patients! That's it! You two look SO SIMILAR! And you have a lot of the same expressions!"

Yup, there's a reason why Bri and I say that we're "sisters from another mister."
Regardless of our biological orgins, this is NOT the first time that people have asked us if we are sisters.
(In fact, when informed that we aren't, one man REFUSED to believe us. Rather funny.)

But, yeah ... so I cried. A lot.
We got Subway for dinner, since I hadn't eaten since around noon.
We went home and watched a movie.

What would YOU do if your kids were spending the night at Grandma's? And you and your husband have a little extra freedom?
No, we didn't do that.
Because I was mostly crying myself to sleep.
I still look kind of like hell from crying. Since I keep welling up and having to nab Kleenexes. Ugh.
And I woke up with a headache from crying. Stupid.

I hate not being in some control of my situations. We're supposed to be proactive, right?
But, with this? Short of cutting this child out of me, there's no real control that I have.
I don't know when I'm going into labor. I don't know if my water's going to break. Or where.
I don't even know, most of the time, where this fetus's head is.

And, hey, I'm ALMOST borderline for having TOO MUCH amniotic fluid in there. (The threshold for too much is 24 ... units ... I don't know what the units are. cc, maybe? I'm here at 23.7 ... Yup. Obviously, my uterus is all "Go big or ... well, no other option there. Ha!" ... Stupid uterus.)

But, yeah ... so it's time to go grocery shopping and pick up the kids ... and still waddle around with my gross, puffy feet. Grabbing for tissues, like someone who can't control her emotions at all.
Because I'm stupid with hormones and very, very disappointed.

It'd be SO much easier if we could just turn this stupid, crazy, stubborn child and then siphon off some amniotic fluid, so she CAN'T turn any more ... then get her OUT.
But ... they're not really able to do that. It sounds like a simple, almost an elegant, solution, though.
But, what do I know? I didn't go to med school. (And I wouldn't. Too long, too expensive, and I don't like the smell of cadavers. Ugh. ... So, yeah, I wouldn't make a good forensic scientist, either. Oh well.)

I don't know if I'm fit for public. ... Since it's a little tempting to just go lie in bed or sit in the shower and sob.

Ugh. And my uterus hurts. Especially when BabyGirl decides to try to push that STUPID CRANIUM of hers NOT where it should be.
It does NOT belong in my damn what-USED-to-be-my-belly-button-but-is-now-just-weird-looking. Or around one of my hip bones.
But get it DOWN into my pelvis.
And freaking KEEP IT THERE.

Or I WILL take one for the team and have major surgery.
(But only if I have to.)
Regardless, this girl is going to be COMPELTELY AWARE of how troublesome she was in-utero.
This had BETTER be her getting the rebellious stage out of the way.

And, dang it, for putting up with all this crap, she'd better be ADORABLE and have hair with a reddish tint to it.
OR ELSE.

(I don't know what "else" is right now ... but ... well, I'll figure out something. And it'll be ... something. Yeah.)

But, hey, as Michael's pointed out ... at this point, I've met a good majority of the nurses.
And, well, it IS flattering when nurses inform you that they hope that you come back and deliver when they're on shift. So ... even though it's kinda sucky, being in and out of the hospital, I must be doing something right.

(Besides, my momma didn't raise no dumb children. I KNOW that you are NICE to your nurses. They are the ones that bring you drugs. And I have a severe aversion to pain. I avoid it whenever I can.)

In which I bemoan Call Waiting

SO ... I was helping the kids work on homework yesterday when my uncle called.
And, when he calls, it's for computer stuff.
He doesn't have a computer. He's blind, in fact ... but it's to have me look up stuff on the internet for him -- phone numbers, websites (if they exist), addresses, books -- and it's NEVER a quick little call, bless his heart.

BUT, Bruise was in the middle of reading a book aloud. I was NOT going to interrupt that. I'm not stupid.

And my uncle called back today. Which is fine.

EXCEPT that he's the one who called ME and, not one but TWICE, "Oh, my call-waiting is going off. I'll call you back later."
And I waited around for at least a half-hour for him to finish his conversation with another friend before he called back.

Um ... not to be really a stickler for etiquette, BUT (I'm just going to point out) if YOU call someone for favors ... heck if YOU call a person, wouldn't it be more polite to just ignore that call-waiting and have your conversation? If you think it's important, then BY ALL MEANS, wrap up your call in a speedy manner.

Now, I'll admit that if _I_ was the one who had called HIM, I wouldn't be so peeved about him hanging up and calling me back.
(That's one reason I kinda hate the telephone at times ... I have a niggling worry deep in my heart that I'm always calling at a bad time/that I'm annoying people by calling/etc.)
BUT, if _I_'m the one calling, then SURE, if you need to get the other line, call me back later.

BUT, if YOU call ME ... and then you take call-waiting ... I'm sorry. Unless it's an emergency, you've totally made me feel like maybe you don't really care. Because obviously my time is totally expendable and maybe getting my help isn't any big issue at all.

Just sayin'.

Oh ... by the way, I don't have call-waiting on the regular phone. We're cheap.
It's on my cell phone ... and I don't always use it. I mean, isn't that what voicemail is for?
Besides, I think I can count the times that I've gotten a call-waiting beep on my cell on one hand (if you don't count when I've been leaving a voicemail and then the person calls me back mid-message).

The only real reason that I've noticed for getting call-waiting ... if you have teenagers in your house. Then it's kinda vital. Or if you run a home business or something. And, even then, I might just opt for voicemail and Caller ID.

Okay ... I'll get over this in, like, about 45 minutes. But right now?
It RANKLES.

Blergh ...

So, I woke up today to find out that I somehow really slept on my neck WRONG.

Owwwww.
I took a hot shower. Not much help.
When Michael got back from cleaning the church, he rubbed Tiger Balm on it. Nope.
I went to my costume fitting ... which is not totally a fitting, since my measurements are going to change.
BUT, for the record, LET IT BE STATED, that I have "a nice waist."
Which will go into hibernation for a while ... but, really, it's nice to hear a costumer tell you that. ^_^

After I got back home, I grabbed my buckwheat (or something) microwave heat pad and used that.
Then I popped two Tylenol (the only painkiller I can take. *sigh*) and took a hot bath.

I can now MOSTLY look over both shoulders. But, gosh, it still hurts. Neck, shoulders, running down along my spine between my shoulder blades (and across my shoulder blades). Ugh.

Then I took the kiddos to a birthday party as Michael left to go to a meeting where Elder L. Tom Perry will be speaking. ... He should be on his way home now.
And I popped a frozen lasagna into the oven. Yum.

The kids had a BLAST at the birthday party. There was a huge inflatable swimming pool with a SLIDE and a TOWER set up. Way fun.
And a swimming (then a dress-up/costume) party was perfect, since it's been the hottest day of the year.
I rolled up the legs of my maternity jeans, so that I now have more like maternity capris.
And I ended up slurping down THREE glasses of ice water while I was there.

It was fun, since I also got to chat with one my friends who's moved outside out ward boundaries (our congregations are, for the most part -- there are a few exceptions, organized by geographical location. In case you wondered). Very nice. And I got to chat with her husband, too. He's a hoot. We miss having them in our ward. But they have a lovely (and larger) house that better fits their needs. And that's really what's important. ^_^ Besides, now I know where they live ... so it'll be easier to get together sometime, right?

_________________________________________________

In other news, I'm going to be crafting a tactful, yet displeased letter ...

We signed up to feed the missionaries ... even invited another family to eat with us ... more than two weeks in advance.
The missionaries called up the night before to cancel ... for plans that they knew about WEEKS ago.
Not very responsible. If they knew about a conflict, in advance, wouldn't it have been nice to have rectified that? Rescheduled?

Especially since, last month, we had signed up and they never called or showed up at all. :(
Bummer.

So, I'm going to bring it to THEIR attention and the Ward Mission Leader's attention that this is not good behavior. It hurts feelings and does NOT build trust or unity in the ward.

Now, how to say it ... since I should tell them, as I put it to Michael (and a few other people I kvetched to), "If you want GOOD FOOD, come to my DAMN HOUSE."

(Michael had offered for us to drop a meal off to them ... and I didn't feel like making a dinner EARLY for them. So I went to the dollar store and left a bag of food for them ... I was nice. I didn't just give them each a Cup O' Noodles, like I first thought of doing, I was nice. I put a pack of spaghetti noodles, a jar of meat pasta sauce, a box of scalloped potatoes, and a jar of pears. A healthy meal.
THAT THEY CAN COOK THEMSELVES.)

Seriously?
Blow me off once? Shame on YOU.
Blow me off twice? Shame on ME.

We're not signing up to feed them for a while.
Like until both these guys are transferred out.
Or until I act VERY CHRISTLIKE and forgive them for not showing consideration for anyone else's life. Just saying.

So, yeah, onto writing that letter.

Ugh.

It's better than punching them in the junk, though.
I think that you all should be VERY PROUD of my restraint.
And the fact that I didn't call them back to lambast them about PLANNING AHEAD and COMMON COURTESY, ETC., ETC., ETC.

I should get a frakkin' MEDAL.

BAD COMPANY - Login4Speed

I was contacted AGAIN, despite being registered on the Do Not Call list by this company.

When I was last contacted, about two weeks ago, I asked REPEATEDLY to have our number removed from this company's phone list. We didn't want to be contacted by them. EVER.

Which brings us to today.

Part of this phone call had Austin, a representative of this company, tell me POINT BLANK,
"WE WILL NOT STOP CALLING YOU."

Charming,

Sooooooooo ... Here's their info, so if they call, you KNOW how they do business (i.e., cold calls, disregarding of the DNC registry, basic harassment, and ignoring people's requests for being removed from their contact lists.).

Login4Speed, Global Computer Technical Center
257 Albany Road
New York City, NY
(689-) 522-8266

---------------------------------

I'll admit that my behavior is not getting any better in dealing with them.
After telling them to remove my name and number from their list, that I'm NOT AT ALL interested in hearing back from them again EVER, I hung up on them. (As opposed to when I demanded their address and telephone number LAST time and the guy HUNG UP ON ME.)

I can make excuses that I'm REALLY VERY FRUSTRATED with Login4Speed. But, truly, my poor etiquette is not excusable. But, really ... I've reported them to the Do Not Call Registry and will be submitting a complaint to our state's Attorney General.

Now, really, my heart is still racing and I'm CRAZY IRRITATED at Login4Speed.

In short, Login4Speed KEEPS CALLING. They REFUSE to remove us from their list. I don't EVER remember doing ANY business with them.

They suck. Login4Speed sucks. A LOT.

And, really, I'm entitled to this opinion until they prove themselves otherwise.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE (11:16 AM):

Looking online: http://www.mikedolbear.co.uk/forum/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=95090 ...
This is a website of scammers.

Now, honestly, I feel a little less guilty for acting like a heinous witch to the guys that KEEP PHONING ME.
I know that their stuff isn't legit. Now I know it's COMPLETELY NOT LEGIT AT ALL.

Still, I should be the better person. And keep my head. And stop my pulse racing. Ugh.

However, if it weren't a bit illegal, I'd totally do a literal whistleblow into the phone next time.
Maybe that'd "learn 'em." Grrrrrrr.

*sigh* But, really, I'm ready to see if I can get the Feds involved.
Why do these dummies keep trying to mess with a woman who (1) can think and (2) knows her way around the intertubes? Really?

Some People's Children ... (SCAM WARNING)

So, I got a call a few minutes ago ... telling me that I won a $5,000 grant from the U.S. Government.
Because I'm such an upstanding citizen (i.e., I pay my taxes and haven't declared bankruptcy).

A grant that I never applied for.

And, really? My father-in-law works for the IRS. They're not giving out money willy-nilly.
(They want what they are owed. If you pay more, let them know. They'll give it back. If YOU didn't catch the error in their favor, they probably won't look for it either.)

So, yeah ... if you're contacted to call 202-621-0644, be aware it's probably a scam.

I looked online (as I went through the proper channels of reporting this to the FTC [Federal Trade Commission ... we ARE on the Do Not Call list. And have been since it came out.] and our state Attorney General) and I'm not the only one they've called.

The people who HAVE called back to give Elzina Jones ("my accountant" was what I was told by the man on the phone) their grant approval code? They've been asked for their bank routing number. Or have been told to make a donation ... anywhere from $300-575 ... before they can get "their" grant money.

When someone asked how they could be sure this wasn't a grant, they were told to call 202-621-0600, which didn't work.

So, yeah. Just wanted to let you know.

(Yeah, I'm feeling kinda cantankerous and punchy today. So I was TOTALLY READY to be doing some legal-type paperwork. Bring it, scammers. I'm smart enough to RECOGNIZE a scam when I hear one ... AND I'm internet-savvy enough to know how to search for what to DO about it. Bring it. I will bring you down. And THEN I'll blog about it. )

(Though, honestly? I'd rather have the $5,000. ... But, *sigh* since that's not even REAL, I'll settle for a little internet-vigilante justice. Along with completely-through-legal-channels justice.)

Yeah. Just call me SuperLlanna -- slayer of spammy scams.

If you need me, I'll be working out my costuming ideas.
Until I get in total shape, I'm eschewing spandex.

Do you think that sweats and a ponytail would be too stereotypical?
... If I can get my hair to stay in a ponytail. It is a little short at present ... Hmmmm.

In which I am disappointed. Quite a bit, really.

SO, I've had on the calendar that today, 10 AM, is a Primary Activity for the kiddos.
So, my mom left as I took the kids to the church for the activity.

I had tried to call a friend in the Primary Presidency to find out what the activity was. It was announced that there WAS an activity in the bulletin I had from two weeks ago. Yeah, two weeks since I'd been at church. I hate being sick.

Bucket was working at building it up for Bruise. She had told him that I was taking them to a SURPRISE, to a FUN PLACE.

As we are driving, Bruise pipes up, "Are we going to DA CHURCH?"
Me: Yup. We are.
Bruise: DAT'S NOT A FUN PWACE.

And, here, I went on telling him that the Primary Presidency would make it a fun place, since all the kids got to play together.
(And ... well, I was kinda looking forward to figuring out something to do with myself for the next two hours.)

And we get to the church. There are cars there, which is a good sign.
There's a HAM Radio class in the Relief Society room, a couple people are cleaning the church, the Young Men are playing Basketball in the gym/cultural hall.

Hm. No Primary kids anywhere. Huh.

So, we walk around and wait for over ten minutes. People can be late.
Nothing.
I try and call a few friends to see if they're on their way or if the activity ISN'T at the church or whatever.

Finally I call one of the kids' Sunday School teachers.
"Oh, no, it was cancelled. There won't be anymore quarterly Primary activities. It was announced in the new handbook. They announced it at church on Sunday. Oops! You weren't there, were you? Well, have a fun family activity!"

Yeah. Okay. Right.

After we drove back home (and, I'll admit that I cried all the way home. And still am, really), the kids put on a movie and Bruise is playing on the DS.

Yeah, it's stupid that I'm upset. It's a stupid situation.
It's stupid that I was sick and missed the announcement.
It's stupid that no one thought to call or email all the parents to make sure that the announcement made it home ... or in case some families weren't at church to hear it.
It's stupid that they didn't have a sign on the doors.
It's stupid that I didn't think to call anyone to ask if the activity had been cancelled ... mostly because the activities don't get cancelled a lot.
It's stupid that I'm disappointed because I worked to build up the kids' excitement for an activity that ... didn't exist. And that makes me feel like a crap parent. And really, really stupid.
It's stupid that I waited around for someone to ask about the activity to show up. And no one did. Because everyone else is smarter than I am and KNEW that the activity no longer existed.
It's stupid that today proved a total waste of makeup. Because I looked cute. To go nowhere and do absolutely nothing ... which is fine since I look TERRIBLE -- all red, puffy, and blotchy from crying -- now.

Yeah, I'm kinda pissed.
That being  ... not totally truthful.
I'm really, really disappointed. And frustrated. And a little pissed.
But mostly disappointed and frustrated.

The gospel is still true.

But, no, I'm not feeling like such a happy, little Child of God right now.

I'm going to remove my streaked/mostly-cried-off mascara and foundation.
Maybe redo the nails that I smudged on the rush to drive the kids to an activity that didn't exist anymore.

Then, perhaps, I'll just curl up in a corner and pet my hair or something else equally productive.
As soon as I stop crying.

------------------
Truly, at first, I was all excited for this activity.
Michael and I could run errands without the kids.
But then, I was reminded that he had that HAM Radio class. And refereeing the Young Women's basketball game (at the other church building in town) ... so, yeah, instead of a little date with my husband, I was going to be hanging solo. Which isn't nearly as much fun.

And, yeah, I attempted to make impromptu plans with a friend. And nothing came of THAT.
So, yeah. Whatever.

Just let me pretend to be totally emo and mope for a bit.
I'll be better in a bit.

I just look (and feel) like total crap right now.

Last night's excitement

Since it hasn't been THAT long since I blogged last ... and since I haven't really DONE anything this morning, this post's going to be a little short.

(Yes, I'm still having crap sleep. Stupid Mother Nature. I don't even remember what I dreamt about, really. Just that I woke up and couldn't manage to get out of bed for about an hour. ... Even when a child came, crawled in bed, snuggled up to my arm and then told me, "Momma, your arm is SO WAAAAARMMMM!!")

So, after blogging, I finished talking to my uncle on the phone. And I made dinner. Chicken simmered in broth with lemon slices. And green beans simmered in the rest of the chicken broth with BACON. And brownies. Since Michael and I MEANT to make brownies YESTERDAY ... and we wanted brownies for Family Home Evening.

Dinner was ready by the time that Michael got home. We ate, had FHE ... where Bruise proved that he really isn't reading up to where he should be. He knows a lot of sight words ... He wasn't reading them. So I need to be working with him today. And he's SO NOT playing on the Nintendo DS until he is reading on his own more. ... As long as he's TRYING and not giving up, we'll be happy.

We took a walk to the park and let the kids play a few minutes. (VERY FEW minutes, since Bruise took SO DANG LONG to read his Scripture Story [Jonah -- of course] ... Bucket had read the scripture that Bruise had read in Primary a couple months ago -- 1 Timothy 4:12. She did well ... there were a few words that she flubbed. And she really does read for context, not content ... like her mama. So it was really cute when she started to tell us to be "explanations of the believers"... instead of "examples." Still, she needed very little assistance.Good for her.)

Then we came home, ate brownies, and put the kids to bed.

Michael and I went through some of the pages I had bookmarked to share him ... Hey, I love the intertubes. And I like to share.
Then he started to put away leftovers for his lunch ... and he saw an ant trying to get to our brownies. So I turned on the overhead light in the kitchen ... to find a SWARM around a piece of dropped bacon.

This led to my pulling out the drawer under the oven ... where there were even MORE ants ... so we sprayed under there ... and pulled out a few other drawers to spray in the backs there to ensure that those dang ants won't get any more bright ideas ...

But, yeah. I am a killer. I staged a massacre of ants. And, while wielding my sprayer of Ortho ant killer (No, they didn't give it to me for free or anything. But I swear by it. It works!), I quoted PMS Geisha -- "I kiii you!! I kiii you!" (Truly, quoting things is quite theraputic. Indeed.)

We moved the brownies into the fridge. And Michael unloaded the dishwasher and I loaded it back up and ran a load.

And we cursed ants and that stupid possum that had taken residence under the house a while back ... which we're 99% sure is the reason we had the flea outbreak ... which is now, THANKFULLY back under control. I've only found a couple fleas on Miss Diana-Cat. And Michael's not showing any new bites for a while.

Bucket has some kind of scratch or bite on her leg. Probably from running though the field on the way to/from the park last night.
I have a scratch on my leg, since I've been lazy and haven't clipped Di-di's claws. Ugh. I should do that. They're wicked sharp.

Also, as my kids got themselves water bottles out of the fridge, Bucket brought me one. Awwwwww. That was very sweet of her. ^_^
I guess it helps that I gave them the leftover brownies for breakfast.

Hey, I'm still EXHAUSTED. And I was asleep before 11. Maybe even before 10:30 ... I shouldn't be tired. Stupid Mother Nature. Filthy strumpet.