So, I've started a new blog for Nana's and Grandma Darlene's recipes.

If you care to look at it (there's not a whole lot there right now ... it's going to be a pretty big endeavor), it's at https://cookingwithnanandgram.blogspot.com/

There's two actual posts of recipes ... so ... yeah.

I haven't been sleeping well.

Last night, I remember dreaming that the van (my car) was starting to break down. And I maybe got a ticket for having sparks from under the car.
THEN, when Michael and I were driving a load of ... some stuff ... from Washington, we were going through a town and got pulled over by a deputy-guy-in-training. And he wrote a ticket for, like, $542 for something under the truck ... and when we were proving that we DIDN'T have sparks or whatever under the truck, he refused to take it away, since it would reflect badly on his homework or something.
BUT! He WOULD lower it to $537.
Yeah, thanks.

Thankfully that was just a dream.
And the only money woes we really have are because the other house still hasn't sold at all.
Good times.

We're feeding the missionaries today.
Bruise got (mostly) caught up on homework ... so he's at a friend's house (after we cranked the last two answers out this morning.
I did let him know that when he neglects or chooses not to turn in work or to not give a full effort, it reflects poorly on Michael and me, since that's a lot of how his teachers know about our family.

I will also let Bucket know that, too.

I know that things need to get done. And I'm doing some of them. But I'm not motivated.
My head and neck and shoulders hurt. I just wish that I didn't have to THINK for a while ... and I'm such the type that's always in my head. I just want a mental vacation.

I could gripe about how I do all the mother-stuff: make sure the kids are off to school/drive them to school or their bus stop, morning devotional, make sure they're eating, attempt to cook something healthy, pick them up from school or their bus stop (unless the big kids are walking home), drive the girls to their dance classes, drive Bruise and Bubbles to soccer practices, attempt to be social and happy ... or at least act like I am ..., ...

I almost wish that I had a day or a week or a month where I could just curl up in bed and hibernate. Maybe, then, when I woke up, I wouldn't be sad or overwhelmed.

I'm reading scriptures. I'm saying prayers. We're reading and praying as a family. I have a testimony. I'm going through the motions. I don't have any desire to NOT go to church or to not pray or to not read scriptures. I still really suck at the whole pondering or studying or meditating on things ... I know that I'll be blessed -- that I AM blessed -- from just TRYING. That Heavenly Father appreciates my efforts.

I don't feel like the best Ministering Sister. I get that it's a higher law. And I love that we're getting to that level as a Church and a society ... but, I kinda suck as a friend. I check in and ask them if they want a visit or could use anything ... I just know that I should be doing more. That I SHOULD be being inspired. And ... I'm ... I'm just treading water, keeping afloat just enough.

I want to be ... oh, ... confident in my spirituality. Does that even make sense?
I want to FEEL the Holy Ghost. I do okay as I'm getting a blessing. I know that my Heavenly Father is aware of me and loves me and all that. I get that. I have a testimony of that. I have knowledge of that.

I just am not feeling as inspired. And I'm sure that it's me. I've done something or NOT done something. And I'm trying to figure out what exactly I need to repent of and change (probably the  going-through-the-motions ... but I'm not sure what else to do).

And this has been happening for a few weeks. Several weeks. It's not just since Nana died.
But that's made it harder. Not going to lie about or sugarcoat that fact.

I mean, with dealing with my emotions from Nana's dementia (and then her death), I do understand why people drink.
Heck, I'm tempted to take a Percocet. But I don't.
Mostly because I know that doing that isn't going to fix anything. Escapist reading hasn't fixed anything. Not that I've done a whole lot of that the last week.

What have I done a lot of? Mindless games on my phone.
Not quite what I'm sure President Nelson had in mind when he told us to go on that 10-day social media fast.
That first day, I actually was pretty productive. Then I kinda slipped into games. Then Nana went into an unresponsive state. Then she passed. ... And, a couple days later, I emerged from avoiding Facebook and Instagram. Those are my big social-media time-sucks.

I followed the prophet. Was I ecstatic about it? Not really.
Of course ... at the same point, I don't feel ecstatic about ... anything right now, tbh.

I shaved my legs yesterday. It was past time, for sure.
I also bought blue lipstick. It would look better on a face that had foundation and sleep.

I've been trying to do some self-care. I'll eat. At some point. I try to drink water or juice ... mostly to combat crying-induced headaches. I'll do a face mask, so I don't look quite as haggard. I'll take a shower, so I don't disgust myself. I do some housework, so that something in my life looks nice and somewhat organized. I talk aloud to Nana, since I know the veil is thin. She might be here, who knows? I can't feel her. But I can't totally feel much right now.

I'm easily irritated and prefer to be mostly alone. This way no one has to be aware of how much I cry or anything. Honestly, I'm not that much fun to be around. I'm cranky or despondent. I just want some mindless task that I can do, where I don't have to think or react to anything.

More than anything, I just want Nana and Pop-pop's old house. Even just the living room. How the light would slant through the curtains on a summer's afternoon. The smells of living and traces Pop-pop's cigarette smoke interwoven into the carpet, curtains, and furniture.
I think, that in Heaven, that will be one room in my house. Or a bottle of scent, at the least.

Maybe I should steam some broccoli. That was one of the smells that would waft through from the kitchen at their house.

Christmas hasn't ever been the same since Grandma Darlene passed ... and that was 22 years ago. Mom's stepdad passed a couple years afterwards ... that had no effect. Then Pop-pop passed. And then Nana moved ... and then had to move in with my uncle and aunt ... and then was in memory care. The major memories of Christmas in my rather idyllic, for the most part, childhood centered around being at my grandparents' houses. And that .... isn't ever happening again. And, really, hasn't happened for a while.

I know that it's up to me to start making some of these memories better and all. But ... I don't really know how to start yet.
Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. I love being with my family. But ... there was something just magical about Christmas as a child. And I've not been able to fully replicate it for myself since Grandma Darlene passed. And, then after not having Nana and Pop-pop's house in the Christmas equation, it's been paler and sadder .... bittersweet, maybe. Maybe that's the better way to term it.

I should get a shower. My hair hurts as I've been crying off and on as I type this all.

Wow. I'm so fun to be around, aren't I? You used to come and read this blog for my witty bon mots and refusal to take life too seriously ... and now it's all mopey and bleak and guilt-ridden. Good times indeed.

Hopefully, I'll be out of this grief-induced funk soon. I can hardly stand to be around myself ... I can't imagine that you're having a great time, either.

In which I am maudlin ... let's hope blogging this gets it out of my system.

So, last night I was feeling pitiful (gastronomically ... sorry, TMI) ... and, apparently my brain thought that I should feel pitiful mentally, too!

Misery loves company, right? *overly bright smile*

So, I'm lying in bed, next to Michael and ask ... "Do you think she misses me as much as I miss her?"
He is intuitive and knows that I'm asking about that bestie that ... well, she didn't give me the Cut Direct, since that would involve seeing me. But, yeah, she took herself out of my life without warning.

And ... even though one of the gals I Visit Teach told me, 'Why would you want to keep suffering? Even if she came back and asked to be friends again, why would you take her back?"

It's not that I'm masochistic (well, HOPEFULLY not) ... but, when her and my friendship started out, it was good. It was fun. I miss that.

I don't like that I don't feel as self-assured. I don't like that I lost someone who was so much fun to laugh with.

I mean, it'd be one thing if she had left my life, but I still had my friend K, who passed away, who was fun to laugh and bake with ... even though she and her family were going to move away at some point. I can keep a friendship going cross-country ... I had done it before. Heck, I manage to keep a friendship going across the planet. ... It's just a little harder to do it through the veil (They never call, they never write ...).

But, even though it's been a long while ... nearly a year ... I still feel that ... I ... I just don't feel right.
I feel lost. I feel full of doubt that I'm even a decent friend.

STUDIES SAY, so they say, that if a friendship lasts seven years, it'll be able to weather anything.
...
WELL MAYBE SOME FRICKIN' STUDY IS DEAD WRONG.

And I kind of hate that, too.

Because ... I feel like a crap person.
What kind of crappy person does a girl have to be that her bestie cuts all ties with her without a word? That moves back to the same town and never even texts?

... Going with that, I am a REALLY CRAPPY person.

And ... I don't want to be a really crappy person. I want to know how to have fun, how to not be filled with self-doubt.

And, as friends have pointed out, this now-gone-friend has changed.
And it was harder to be supportive for her ... so ... maybe she's done me a favor?

I don't know.

They say that time heals all wounds.
How do I stop picking at this scab?

Titles are for ... well ... people who can think them up (i.e., not me)

Okay ... Bubbles is now four. We're working on doing some pre-school stuff with her.

She actually seems pretty strong at math for a girl who counts "eleven, twelve, firrteen, sixteen, nineteen, twenty."
(Really, she's got a grip on addition and subtraction that I was surprised by. ... Note to self: Just because one is less-than-totally-confident with math, that does not by any means extend to one's offspring.)

The internet is still mostly working.
So the Bluray player had issues (the tray wouldn't open. Or, when manually pried open [GENTLY], recognize that it WAS open.
So we had to buy a new one.
Which, after we get a new Bluray/receiver for the front room and a new TV for the bedroom, will move to the bedroom. Yay for Netflix for Mommy folding laundry while the kids play in the front room!
Or Netflix for the kids in the bedroom while Mommy watches movies with friends in the front room!

But that's a ways into the future.

And now, as of this morning, the deadbolt on the front door isn't working. Won't retract. So that door is stuck locked.
Good thing the back door works!
(Makes me rather wish that our house was like my mom's ... with two main doors and an escape possible with another door in the laundry room!)

Okay. Enough for now.

The good, the bad, and the frustrating ...

It's been a good and bad last few days ...

I had forgotten to update my digital calendar that we had signed up to feed the missionaries ... Whoops!
But we got the house much cleaner and dinner made and had a nice visit with them.

I got my hair recolored. It's SO much better. I really didn't feel like myself as a blonde-blonde. And I didn't like my roots being so OBVIOUS (#ImSoVainIBetIThinkThisSongIsAboutMe).
I am still rather blonde, but I have some brown lowlights put in there that make my skin tone looks worlds better and it feels a LOT more natural. (It can read more grey, though, in some lights ... but I can handle that). I also got new purple streaks in the middle (aka "peekaboo streaks"), which are really fun.

I finally got around to painting my nails and toenails -- my fingernails are mostly nude, with a few accent nails that have a glitter topcoat on them; my toes are a deep violet.

Did I mention that Bucket's Betta, Blue, passed? Well, he did.
And I cleaned out the fish tank and we now have Falcor, a Dragon Scale Betta (He's got a light-teal body and deep-red fins. Quite pretty. He seems well-behaved like Blue).
He and Iggy (the Pleco) seem to get along well enough.

I am behind on dishes and laundry again. As usual.
I'm almost through my "for fun" book (The Night Circus). I'm enjoying it. But it's due on the 24th and I REALLY don't want more fines (I paid over $15 in library fines last week. FUN! Not.).

We went out on Saturday and bought some used LEGO (the kids each made a minifig and I picked up the two minifigs from retired series that I'd been YEARNING for [The movie star (Series 9) and the Hazmat guy (Series 4)]. Then we went to the LEGO store and the kids got more LEGO, even Bubbles got a Duplo kit. And we dropped by Deseret Book (and ran into Bruise's Cub Scout den leader), and went out for a LATE lunch (the kids' Summer Reading coupons sure came in handy for a free Kid's meal at Applebee's EACH) and headed home.

I taught my first Sunday School lesson with the 12 and 13-year-olds. I had five students. They're pretty fun. It's nice having a class that can TALK with you. We didn't really stay on the month's subject ... but we did talk about the Second Coming and repentance, so it was pretty good.

I also got permission from the Sunday School President in our ward to follow inspiration and start a blog to discuss (and confirm with Scriptural answers/references) what we talk about in class that I don't have ready answers/references to.
(FACT: It's a pet peeve of mine when people pass around doctrine that isn't confirmed. Like the Mormon Myth (which has been denounced from the First Presidency) that people from other dispensations of the gospel will bow to us. OR that Joseph Smith said that "if people could see through the veil to the Telestial Kingdom, they'd be killing themselves to get in." (Attributed, but unverified. Researched AGAIN, here.) ... But, yes, I'm not a fan of the "faith-promoting rumor." I prefer facts that can be verified. But that might be partway because my main Seminary teacher, Joan, demanded "Scriptural Answers," answers that were backed by scriptures.)

Also, the BAD part of the weekend ... Bruise and Bucket got themselves in to TROUBLE.
Bruise has been visibly exhausted lately. Bucket hasn't been much better.
We found out WHY ... they've been sneaking in their tablets (Strike ONE) at night into their room (STRIKE TWO) ... and they KNOW that this is against the house rules.

So, they're grounded. Indefinitely, but at least for two weeks. No tablets (It's a good thing that I have self-control, or I'd have broken them in front of those two jokers. ), no TV/Netflix/Movies, no going out to play, ... and they HAVE to do all their chores (without being reminded) for two weeks. I also want them to be reading their scriptures, writing a letter of apology to their dad and me, copying off the section in For the Strength of Youth about "Honesty and Integrity" into their journals ... along with the Honesty section in True to the Faith and a few scriptures referenced.

This isn't the first time that this has happened. And, obviously, they haven't really learned not to do it. We had a talk at the dining room table this morning, where I did NOT yell (I'm getting better, see?), but I DID tell them that I was so disappointed in them that there aren't words in the human language to express it. And I told them about the consequences (being grounded AND their distancing themselves from Heavenly Father and making it VERY hard for the Holy Ghost to be with them ... making it VERY hard to have a happy family, since their actions show a huge amount of disrespect for their parents, their little sister [whose sleep is also affected AND who tries to emulate their actions], and THEMSELVES. Because when you make bad choices and are dishonest, you are showing a lack of respect for yourself.) ... so, we were all down and unhappy. But I did make sure to let them know that I do love them (which is why I'm so disappointed in them) and to give them hugs before they left for the bus.

But here's how their lives are going to look for the next while:

• Get up, get ready for school. Make sure lunch is packed.
• Morning devotional. Read scriptures. Pray. 
• Chores/Workbook
• Go to school.
• Come home. 
• Chores/workbook/homework/RosettaStone/KhanAcademy/Duolingo/Nap
• More chores
• Dinner/Showers/Family Scriptures/Prayer/Sleep

It's not going to be tons of fun.
And I've told them that as soon as Daddy or I have to point out what's not been done, that their two weeks is restarting ... even if they've managed 13 days straight. These resets are going to be harsh. And part of this is that they are going to show their godly sorrow (sorry for making a bad choice, NOT just for getting caught. Because they should be most sorry for their decision's effect of taking them farther from God and hurting themselves and others) and have a GOOD attitude here at home.
No whining, no complaining/rolling the eyes/stomping ... We are going to have a HAPPY, PEACEFUL HOME WHERE THE SPIRIT CAN DWELL -- OR BUST.

However, I think that the "no-tablets" rule is going to be good. There will be fewer distractions (for Bruise, especially) and they won't get sucked into watching shows so much.

Well, I need to go "pack a lunch" for Bubbles. And I should go clean up ... especially vacuum, since Bubbles got into some glitter that Bucket "accidentally" left out (that Bucket never asked to get into in the first place). And I should finally clean the fridge and sort a million cupboards ... but I really just want to either nap or read or redo yesterday night and  warn those older two within an inch of their lives that Daddy and I are NOT NEARLY as stupid as they seem to think we are.

Ugh.

But, at least, I'm caught up again on Conference Talks and reading my scriptures ... I should read a billion other manuals and prepare for next week's class ...

Even if I DO have to teach every week now, my class is fun. AND I get to go to Relief Society again. I've really missed that.

I'll survive today ... and the next few weeks. I know I can ... because I'm going to be reading my scriptures and stuff and PRAYING LOADS.

Your "What's-Gone-On-In-the-Last-Two-Weeks-If-You-Really-Care" Update

So, yeah, it's been two weeks since I last blogged.
(Way to go, me ... sounds like I'm starting with a confession. I'm not Catholic, but I do have some friends who are ... and it's not like I haven't seen movies where a character is in Confession ... I digress. Like I always do.)

Okay, since June 9th ...

Well, I WANTED this to be a fun, chatty post, since I got back in touch with my high-school Theater teacher (also taught Writing for College, which was a great class, too). (No, I'm NOT trying to suck up, okay? I really did enjoy those classes AND having him as a teacher/friend. Geez, you guys.) ... where was I? Oh yes ... AND I would have really preferred, since I told him that I have a blog and he said that he'd be glad to read it, to have something witty and funny and well-drafted ... but, well, it is what it is (didn't Vonnegut say that? I find myself saying it a lot. And I think it's a quote ... Whatever. I've just gotten up and I can't brain yet).

Sorry, Mr. A. I really did want to be clever and awesome. But, well, at least you know that I didn't hire a ghostwriter or anything, right?

SO ... the kids are out of school for the summer. Bruise and Bucket had their well-child check-up. They're current on their shots (Bucket had pumped herself up to be prepared for a vaccination, though I was pretty sure she didn't need one, so she was bummed NOT to get a shot. ... Yup, that's my girl).
That's how we started Summer Vacation -- go to the doctor's, then take the kids' to Grandma's house (while Mom and Dad go to a meeting [read that: get to a meeting rather late because the guy in charge of getting information only told us the [City] Stake Center, not an address. So we went to the church building in [City], then had to call our sister-in-law to figure out where we (and another ten cars) SHOULD be ... which meant that we were BARELY on time. Which meant that Michael had to listen to me grouse about how I HATE being late. Poor guy. At least we got to eat at the Pita Pit for dinner, so it wasn't terrible. And the meeting was good [about missionary work]).

Backtracking -- the kids had a fun time at their class trip to OMSI. I was feeling guilty about not going with (but then I'd have to run Bubbles up to Mom C's, run the kids and myself BACK into town, drive up to OMSI -- most likely carpooling, so then I'd have to drop off everyone BACK at the school and run BACK UP to Mom C's, AND THEN go back home) ... however, since I found myself being VERY GOOD FRIENDS with Mr. Toilet that day, I didn't feel so guilty.
(I would have said that I didn't feel so bad, but that would have been a lie. Since I was NOT feeling good by any means. Not for a while.)

I've agreed to be PTC (Parent-Teacher Club) Secretary for the 2015-2016 school year.
Sounds like the meetings will be moved to Tuesday evenings, which mostly work better for me. Michael can pick up the kids (and take Bucket to her Activity Days twice a month) ... I'd better prepare a metric crapton of slow cooker meals.
It also sounds like there'll be a morning meeting once a month. I'm sure they'll get used to me in pajamas, schlepping my brood in. (I jest, I jest. But I WILL be rocking a ponytail with my I-threw-this-on-right-before-running-to-the-car ensemble.)

Before the kids went down to stay a week with grandfolks (they stayed with my dad and L Monday; then, until Friday, they were with my mom and stepdad), we did the kick-off for the city summer activity/scavenger hunt/passport program/thing. It's actually really fun. You get a little passport and go around (mostly downtown) and collect stamps from participating businesses. At some places, you need to do something to earn your stamp. At others, you get to make something (like at the paint-you-own pottery, you paint a little trinket [which you'll come back later to pick up, after it's been put into the kiln and cooled. Or, at a coffee shop/deli, (at least last year) kids made their own, free, Italian soda. Or you had to shoot so many baskets on the court at the YMCA. Stuff like that]). Some are out a little ways -- in one, you go to a historic mill, which makes a nice day trip. it's fun to go on the tour and into the little interpretive center -- grind some flour by hand. Maybe feed the chickens and turkeys ...

But, yeah, Bruise, Bucket, and Bubbles had fun spending the week with grandfolks. They all came back happy, tired, and sunburned (I know they did put on sunscreen. They were JUST in the sun that much).

While they were gone, I had high hopes of laying in bed and reading all day (like I could do pre-kids). Instead I did small bursts of cleaning ... and got my hair colored.
Tuesday, I went through the kids' outgrown clothing and got that sorted. Then I went to the salon for my appointment. I'm now even blonder (working towards platinum, since that's one of the [few] colors I haven't done) and sporting some fun streaks. We tried to do teal, purple, and pink ... but the pink didn't take at all. So I have fun teal and purple streaks (hadn't done purple streaks before. I've done teal, but only on the bottom-most layer of hair. And that was years ago) happening.
Then Michael and I went to see Jurassic World (which was good despite not starring Dr. Ian Malcom. Though, trivia says (and I missed it), that Jeff Goldblum's picture IS featured on a couple books held by two characters in the film).

Wednesday, I cleaned up the house a bit and organized a freezer (which NEEDED to happen, because I was sick and tired of foisting off an impeding avalanche EVERY time I opened that stinkin' freezer), since we were feeding the missionaries. One of the elders is going to be going home soon. Which is a bummer (for us) since he's really fun. But we know that his family misses him, so we'll deal.
After dinner, we went to Home Depot to go pick up supplies for Thursday evening ...

Thursday, I spent around four hours cleaning up the kids' room. Two bags of stuff to donate. Another FULL bag of trash, countless passes with the vacuum on every bit of floor that I could reach, cleaning off the BIG shelves ... and their room was clean. BUT ONLY HALF OF THEIR ROOM.
(We worked on the other half of the floor and the closet on Sunday. Happy Father's Day, Honey!)

Then I went shoe shopping. I ended up with a pair of sneakers (goal), a pair of dress shoes (secondary goal), a pair of nice flip-flops, and a new shirt (bonus!) And some new socks. And a swim cap to protect my dye job (which sort of worked).

Thursday night, we spent building Bubbles's new bed, since she bent the frame of her (used) toddler bed by jumping on it. Whoops. Michael cut the boards, I sanded the boards. We ran to Home Depot again (another board and more sandpaper). We bolted the thing together and screwed down the plywood ... If a bomb should happen, that bed might burn to the ground. But it'll burn to the ground as a thing SOLIDLY BOLTED TOGETHER. Doesn't even shake or shiver when I sit on it.

Friday, I went to work with Michael. I helped Paige (the office manager) by collapsing cardboard boxes (which brought back memories as I used the boxcutter. Even though it's been around 20 years, I still know how to employ boxcutter safety. Thank you Shop Smart and your [kinda boring] safety videos). Then we took out the recycling ... which, being Paige and me, was filled with giggling and nearly dropping bags of precariously-piled bags of magazines and newspapers. She's totally fun to hang with. And I got to meet her son in the survey department (Lest you misunderstand, this is NOT a large company. I think they have about 15-20 employees. But I hadn't met everyone ... usually since, if we come with the kids, I work to take the kids out to the stores in the complex or the park, so that Michael can actually get some work done. That and we never can turn down a trip to Trader Jo's. :P).

After work, we got lunch (even though Cafe Yumm did mess up our order a little. It was still delicious.) and headed down to my hometown. We collected the kids so we could check into the hotel (and give my mom a chance to rest -- between taking care of the kids AND my stepdad [who has dementia], she was exhausted. Poor girl).

We checked in, got settled, waited for my aunt and my cousin's daughter (who Aunt J is taking care of this summer) to come, then we went swimming.
Since I mentioned that my swim cap mostly worked, instead of having nice delineated technicolor streaks, they turned into more ... mermaid hair. Which isn't BAD by any means. Just a little different.

After that, we got dressed and ready and headed back to Mom's for dinner.
After eating and the kids (Cousin + my munchkin brigade) playing, we headed back to the hotel, took a small tour of the casino, and went to bed.

Michael joked that, "Hey, maybe this is the room that Mike Rowe stayed in a few weeks back." But I had to break it to him that, no, THAT hotel is the one across the highway.
(Though, it WOULD have been awesome to be able to make that claim. Heck, I think that THAT hotel should get a little brass historical event plaque for the door: "On ___, 2015, Mike Rowe slept in this room." We could use the added tourism, I'm sure.)

Saturday, we started back fro home, making a stop at Wildlife Safari (If you have a membership at the Oregon Zoo [Ours is almost ready to expire], you can get your admission for 1/2 price. #TheMoreYouKnow) So we made it worth our while. Then we scouted some stores for another LEGO set that's all sold out up here. No dice. And we got some fast food for the drive home.

We got the sad news that Michael did not pass his HUGE engineering test that he took back in April.
He'll be taking it again, next April.
Please send prayers, good thoughts, happy muju, whatever.
Passing this test (next year) will make him a full-fledged Civil Engineer.
Which is what he's been working for.
(I'm just irritated that OSBEELS is dumb in not letting you know your actual score or what you missed or anything. Just a Pass/Fail. Which isn't very helpful. How can you gauge how much you need to improve? Bah.)

Bubbles loves her new bed. The kids are enjoying their clean room (still need to go through three dressers -- hoping to get Bucket's clothes into ONE dresser, so that the other dresser can START housing Bubbles's clothes -- getting THOSE out of OUR room -- AND one set of shelves. THEN they will have a CLEAN-clean room.
And they'll just have to do maintenance on it ... or face the wrath of a frustrated mommy. (A fate worse than death!)

We wished everyone (Michael's dad, my stepdad, my dad, and my Grampy) a happy Father's Day on Sunday. The little craft that the kids in Nursery did for the dads was well-received (the kids did a handprint on a page that said "Daddy, I'm hooked on you." We added a googly eye and orange lips to make the handprints into fish. I made it about as simple and easy as possible. just had to ink up the kids' hands, make the prints, wipe off the hands, let dry, draw on lips with an orange marker, glue on the googly eye, and let dry. Most of them were even done last week. Even better).

Yesterday, we did some chores while Michael was at work. Then we went to a Health Fair, to the library, and back home. The big kids worked on Duolingo (Spanish) and khanacademy (math) and read a bit. And played outside with a neighbor.
Then we went to their swim lesson, where they had fun with Bob.

Today (and the rest of this week) will be more of the same -- housework, not forgetting everything they learned last year, playing ... and doing some of the town passport program.

As I type all this out, I realize that I have a vaguely boring life. But ... well, I like it.

Because, unfortunately, there are much worse alternatives.
Like what happened in my hometown Saturday night.

I don't know how much it's been on the news, but there was a shooting.
In my small hometown.
Which left my cousin's best friend's husband dead.
By his nephew (who was one of my classmates since Kindergarten).

Both the victim, JP, and BF, who shot him are family members of a couple that are in my home Ward (church congregation, if you're not LDS) family.
J is the son of this couple. B is their grandson.

And we're just left reeling. Because ... how could this have happened?
My cousin's BFF went from having a perfect, happy family to being a widow in seconds. And she witnessed the whole thing. I can't imagine how she's feeling.
And poor N (the mom/grandma) ... because she and her husband are some of the nicest, kindest people around ... nobody deserves for this to happen, least of all them.

I keep hoping that this is just some crap nightmare. But it's not.

And I can't wrap my head around this.
BF was a nice guy.
When we were in Kindergarten together, after school, we'd walk the block north from the school, then part ways (he towards his grandma's house about a block away to the west, me further north to my house).
"See you in a million years!" he'd call as he crossed the street.
"No, see you tomorrow," literal-minded little me would call back.

And, in middle school, when he was in the popular group and I was not ... One time, in P.E., he came up to me after another less-than-pleasant bout of existence with some of the in-crowd kids.
"You know," he told me, "you could be popular."
"What?" I replied. As quick on the uptake as ever. Typical Allanna.
"You could be popular, too. If you drop [friend's name] as a friend."
(I mean, I didn't make that choice. But I knew that BF didn't have to tell me that. And that he did because he saw what was going on. And I was sure that he remembered how we were friends in elementary school ... and that ... well, it's not the type of thing someone without empathy and caring would do.)

Even on Facebook, now, people are all commenting that they can't believe that BF would ever do something like that. He was So-and-so's friend. He was always a good guy. ...

... what happened?

And I keep wondering if there was something that I could have done.
I mean, after middle school, we weren't close or anything. We were in the same school and we'd say "hi" to each other when we saw each other. But we didn't move in the same circles, really.
But I always thought of him as a friend.

I mean, I was DOWN in our hometown that day.
If I knew then what I do now, I'd have worked to track him down and talked to him.

But, I mean, what could I have said ... "Hey, later tonight, don't shoot your uncle. AT ALL. Not even once, let alone a bunch. M'kay? That'd be great. So, how's it been going for the last decade or so? You doing okay?"

Not very realistic, I know. But ... could I have been a better friend to him? Was he even on Facebook? I could have sent him a friend request ... let him know that I always remember him fondly, since we were friends a long time ago. That I appreciated that he offered me that chance at being in the in-crowd when nobody else really seemed to care (except jumping at the chance to make my friend's life pretty awful).

Michael tells me there's really nothing that I could have done differently.
Which is true. Unless I had a time-machine or something ...

Which then makes me wonder WHY this happened? HOW could this happen?
This is the kind of thing you read about.
It's not something that you can prepare yourself for in advance (well, not and remain mentally healthy).

And I find myself, squatting to find refried beans or tomato sauce in the pantry cupboard and wondering, "What am I doing with my life??? Why am I even here ... what's the significance of my existence right now? I should be doing something ... and ..."
And then I have to get on with my life because I have three kids who need to be fed and a husband to assist and a cat to snuggle (so she won't get all anxious and pee in the laundry pile or over-groom herself. Seriously, I cannot believe that out of all of us, it's the CAT that has a prescription for Prozac. Obviously, this is the perfect cat for me. Obviously.)

However, I think that it's time to escape into a book sometime today.
I have a pile of library books that need to be read ... but I'm feeling the need to jump into a tested-and-true old friend. Something familiar. Something safe. Something that will be good to read while Bubbles is napping.

I mean, I have faith that there's an overall plan. And that we all are going to learn and grow from this ... horrible ... happenstance.

But, still, I really wish it hadn't happened at all.

When I am benevolent dictator of the world, all conflicts will be dealt with hugging-it-out. Or maybe pie-eating contests. Or staring contests whilst eating dark chocolate (unless one is allergic. To chocolate. I've not yet heard of anyone being allergic to staring ... but what do I know?).

That's wack. And not wiggety-wack, just the regular kind.

Today started out fine ...

Got up, showered, dressed.
Had devotional with the kids, dropped Bruise off to track club.
Bucket got on the bus. I finished getting ready ...

Then, when Bubbles and I got into the car to go into town/shopping ... I go to plug in my iPod ... and then the car won't start. When I press on the brake, the dashboard clock fades away to nothing.

I don't know my neighbors well enough to feel like I can just go ask them for a jump.
mi...
Okay, I was going to say that Michael isn't picking up his phone (so I also emailed AND shot him a text), but he just called back.
And he'll come home at his lunch break, figure out stuff and we'll figure out what all needs to be done.
If nothing else, he'll stay home long enough to pick up the kids from strings (which means he'll just be staying home for the rest of the day) ... and we can either walk to pick Bucket up from her after-school running tomorrow. We'll see.

I'm hoping it's just that either I shorted out something that's easily fixable OR that Bucket just didn't close the stupid door quite well enough (it has a crappy sensor anyways) and the battery was just run down a bit.

Okay. I'm going to figure out dinner and read a book and go soak my head or something.

EDIT: And watch a bazillion episodes of Teen Girl Squad. And read my scriptures for the day. And probably do my Duolingo. Distractions galore!

In which I kvetch ...

First off, I'll admit that I'm in the middle of a certain lunar-monthly event, so you can take that with the grain of salt you should.

But, yesterday, Michael and I had a date-afternoon activity set up. We were going to a mutual friend's place so she could analyze our eyeballs (take a REALLYUPCLOSE picture, then look at variances in different areas of the iris and the white part [whatever it's called. I'm too lazy/irritated to look it up] and tell us what parts of our bodies are showing signs of issues) ... pretty cool, right?
And, since we signed up for it at a health expo a few months back at a good deal.

So, yeah, I was looking forward to it for the last couple months.

She emailed me paperwork to fill out (Michael and me seperately). Nearly ten pages of questions.
Which we did.

Here's the text of the email that she sent:

HI Allanna and Mike
I am reminding you of your Iris Analysis appointment for Jan 16 at 2pm.
I have attached the intake form for you to fill out prior to your appointment.  Please print one out for each of you.   It is important for you to fill it out as completely as possible to better help you gain control over your health.
If you have questions, please let me know. 

I'll admit that I had a bit of a busy time the last few weeks. Between recuperating from the plague, trying to get caught up on housework, Bruise and Bucket's concert rehearsal, reading books, painting in the bathroom, and all the other minutiae of my life, I did not send a reply ... mostly because I didn't have any questions to contact her with.

So... Friday comes, we've finished answering a bunch of questions and printed out all the paperwork to do so. We go over to the address listed on the email (even showing up five minutes early) ... we knock on the door ... we ring the doorbell ... we repeat. We call her cell (no answer) and I leave a message ... we wait until about a quarter after two.

At this point, I'm more than a little disappointed. I'd been looking forward to this appointment for a while. And ... we got stood up.

I emailed her after we got home (and Bubbles went down for a nap and Michael left to go shooting with Dad C and C, his brother).

I wrote:

[Name],
We went to your place, but nobody was there. I also tried calling.
Sorry that we missed you. Hope that everything is okay. We were looking forward to seeing you.

And, a bit later, I got this reply:

Hi Allanna
I apologize for not being there. I never heard back from you so I didnt know you could make it.
When would you like to reschedule?
I am doing well.  Had a rough week though, so my husband and I went to the coast for the weekend.

Well, nowhere in the email that I originally received did it say that I needed to confirm. Or else I WOULD have sent confirmation. She never called either Michael or my phone (or the home phone) ... CallerID would have shown us that we missed a call from her. And we'd have called back (or answered the phone in the first place).

When I make an appointment with any other professional (or even just for Visiting Teaching or something social), I might send a reminder email or text or call ... and, unless I/they hear anything to the contrary, you are there for that appointment.

Michael's taking this a lot more easily than I am. "It's not professional behavior."
Whereas ... I'm blogging about this so that I can finally process it through my head so that I can let it freaking GO and figure out how to be happy and crap.

I mean, when my kids' dentist's office has an appointment scheduled, they'll leave a message on my answering machine if I'm not here to confirm in person. Then they are THERE at their office, even if they haven't heard back. (Now, I know that if they can't reach the person, they can and do schedule emergency appointments over that time. When we had to take Bucket in to repair her tooth, that's what happened. Turns out the non-confirming family DID show up ... so we waited around a little more, sure. But, still, EVERYONE was served.)

If you don't confirm with your Visiting Teacher, more often than not, she'll still come by. If the sister that YOU visit teach doesn't respond after you set up an appointment in person (to an email that doesn't say, "Hey, just checking ... we're still on for this appointment, right?"), you don't just blow it off.

I was thinking that, with [Name] not being there and not answering her phone, perhaps there was some serious family emergency. And that is understandable. It'd have been better if she shot off a text or something ... "Sorry I won't be there! Family emergency. Can we reschedule soon?" or the like.

Maybe I'm just so irritated because I know that she's running her own business. And I know that if stuff like this is happening with other customers (ones that might not love her so much), that she's really shooting herself in the foot.

And I really dislike her pushing the blame solely onto me about this. Yes, I could have responded. And I probably should have ... but sometimes I get a little literal. She did not request a confirmation. If she had, I most definitely would have sent her one. She just said to contact her with any questions. And I didn't have any ... because one usually doesn't think to ask "Will you even BE there when we show up?"

If she was in doubt about it, as a businessperson, she could have easily emailed again ("Just checking in since I haven't heard back from you. Are we still on?") or called Michael or me. Or sent either of us a message on Facebook, even. Instead, she made the decision to completely blow us off without any warning. (Even an email of, "Hey there. Since I haven't heard back from you and I've been having a crazy week, I've got another commitment [regardless of the fact that we planned this months ago ... and this makes me seem really flighty and undependable]" OR "I haven't heard back from you, so maybe I don't have the correct email. Let me know if you get this. If I don't hear back from you by tonight, I'll give a call to confirm plans" OR even "I've had a really awful week. Can we reschedule?" ... ANY of those would be okay. ... Note that I do not say that it's FINE. But, it'd be a darn sight better than waiting around, trying to keep our toddler from constantly banging on their door or ringing their doorbell).

If we knew that this wasn't happening, we would have cut our losses (menstrual-related-hormonal-craziness or not) and come up with something that we could have enjoyed just as much. I could have put Bubbles down for an earlier nap, let Michael head out earlier, and curled up with a new library book and Netflix. Or worked to finish painting another cabinet door. Or had Michael take Bubbles up to Mom and Dad's (to hang with Mom and Grandma) and I could run over and get my hair done ... we had tons of options. ... that couldn't happen, since we were honoring OUR commitment to this appointment.

And it just feels like it wasn't nearly as important to our friend to do the same.
And, well, it feels rather like a slap in the face that your business/money/presence/society is not worth even taking a chance that your customers are honoring their appointment.

Yes, I could have replied. But she didn't ASK for one in the first place. I figured that if she was in need of a confirmation, she'd have ASKED. Or called.

... And, though I was really looking forward to this and for so long, I really am torn. Because after receiving treatment like this from anyone, I don't really want to do business with that person. And it makes it a bit harder because we do know her and have that relationship.

But the hard fact is that I wouldn't choose to do business with a stranger/less-close friend who treated me/us with such disrespect. Why should I submit myself to this with someone who I thought was more professional/a friend?

I need to forgive her, YES. And I will.
But I'm rather SAD. And MAD. SMAD about the situation.

I'm mad at myself for not having the foresight to put myself into a situation where I could end up so disappointed/disillusioned. (And, golly, does anyone wonder why I've tended to go antisocial? Because, apparently, I can't handle relationships or living or anything ... It's reasons like this why restaurant menus can fill me with a mixture of joy and dread. "What do I order? Do I go with my usual? Do I try something new? But, if I try something new, what if I don't like it? What if I hate it? What if they stop carrying my favorite things???" ... And there's the fact that I had PLANNED on this. I am not great with change all the time. I TRY to roll with the punches, but I'm not always thrilled [at ALL] about it ...)

So, yeah. I'm smad that I tried something new. And that I was counting on it to happen. And it fell through. I'm smad that I feel that our friend shifted all responsibility onto us, when she shares in it ... and that it seems that she's got a bit of a flippant attitude about it. I'm smad that I'd consider putting myself through this a second time ... especially since I have no idea if we'd get the special price that we were going to get by signing up so fat in advance before. And I'm smad that I let this get to me. It shouldn't matter. It was just a maybe-scientific thing that could have been cool. ... It could have been a waste of money.

But, well, at least I've got this (hopefully all of it) out of my system. And I'm sure that, reflecting on this, there's some great lesson to learn (hopefully not "don't do business with friends" since I have some friends with great businesses/skills) ... and, since I've poured all this out, maybe I'll have gained the distance to look at this situation and learn from it.

I mean, if we choose to try this again, I think that I might find myself being a bit passive-aggressive about it. (After rescheduling, email: "Okay, just checking that you'll even be in town when our appointment is?" A couple days later: "Hey, just wanted to touch bases. We're still on for that eyeball-thing, right? You'll be there?" Repeat every few days. Ten minutes prior: "Oh, hey, something's come up. Gotta bail. Catch you some other time?" Five minutes later: "Crisis averted. On our way!" ... you know, something like that. ... But that'd be REALLY mean and unprofessional and, on the whole, a total jerk move. So I wouldn't do it. ... I might be quite tempted ... but I know better than to treat people like that.)

... Why is it that coming up with impossible scenarios makes me feel a little better?
Maybe it's because I'd really LIKE to be a criminal mastermind, but I can't due to my moral code? ... but that it's good to know that I have the capacity to do it, but that I can remind myself that I CHOOSE not to do it? (I do promise that if I ever DO decide to achieve that destiny, I will do my best to be a benevolent dictator. Pinkie-swears!)

Yeah, I do feel a bit better (in full disclosure, I originally mistyped that as "I feel a but better." Which would be a misspelling ... But admitting that I feel a "butt" better, knowing my current physique, would be saying that I feel LOTS better. And, since it involves the word "butt," my inner-ten-year-old is cracking up about that. Butts.

Yup, I'm Allanna. And I still appreciate potty-humor.
Some things never change.

However, I do feel like I can dissect this situation and analyze it ... and get over this stupid thing so that I don't walk about being all pissy about everything.

If our friend had said something more like, "Oh my gosh! I thought that since I didn't hear from you at all that this wasn't happening. I thought that I asked for you to confirm in the email I sent a week ago? Didn't I? I should have called, though, to get a definite answer. I'm so sorry! Can we reschedule? And I'll make sure to be more professional in the future!"
You know, something that made it sound like she cared a bit.

I'm sure that she does care. And not just about what we'd pay her for the analysis. Maybe it just didn't come through on that last email that she did send. Don't know.

But I think that I'll have Michael respond to her. He knows how to write professionally. And he can state that I'm rather disappointed about the whole situation. He might even affirm that he had expected her to act in a more professional manner ... he might not. Up to him.

And then I disappear for a month ...

I do have some excuses ... sinus infection ... then an ear infection bad enough to send me to the doctor's (twice!) ... but I keep meaning to post something ... and then I don't.

So, what's happened for the past month (and a half)?

Well, forefront on my mind is the fact that Robin Williams has passed ... it seems that he committed suicide.
And ... it makes me so morose.
Michael stated, "It makes no logical sense for him to be depressed." (Since he was a comedian and such a wonderful person, working to help others to smile, you see.)

Whereas, I differ in opinion ... I think that only someone well-versed in sorrow would appreciate laughter as much as Robin Williams did. And part of me wonders, "If only ..."
If only he had Home Teachers or just a friend who saw/sensed past his cheerful facade ...
If only we didn't make mental health such a forbidden/"shameful" topic ...
If only ...

But, as sad as this is, I do know that we have a loving and merciful Heavenly Father.
He knows all ... and will take this knowledge and understanding into account.

And the Church Handbook of Instructions (vol 2) says this:
"It is wrong to take a life, including one’s own. However, a person who commits suicide may not be responsible for his or her acts. Only God can judge such a matter." (21.4.14)

Which, in comparison to some religious tenets (e.g., all suicides are damned), gives me hope. A lot of hope for this poor man who lost his joy.

My heart hurts for how sad he must have been, how alone he felt, to decide that not living was his best possible choice.
And my heart hurts for his family and friends ... and all of us who love and respect him.
(Yes, even myself.)

Things like this make me wonder what else I could/should be doing to help people around me ... people that I might actually have contact with ... to be aware that someone cares, that they matter, that there is help, that they are loved and valued and that things (no matter how dark it seems presently) WILL get better ... and that people WANT to help.

I'm powerless in some situations (like never having even MET Mr. Williams, so it's not like I could just call him up and invite him over for cheesecake or something) ... but there has to be something that I'm not aware of that I CAN do.

Even if it's just to hug my kids a little bit longer/tighter.
Or to smile at a stranger.

There has to be something.

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

Okay, that's probably enough introspection. If I continue on like that, you'll start to wonder who that is and what they've done with the regular shallow-ish, often sarcastic, weirdo that you've come to know and (I can hope) love.

So, what all have we done since I last posted? 
(A lot)
(Too much. I'll sum up.)

• The kids had fun with their soccer academy ... late evenings for us all. But they learned a lot and developed some good skills.
  Their head coach had an accent. Maybe Scottish? And he'd call them "cheeky monkeys."
  Bucket was (80% of the time) the only girl. Usually there were maybe four kids, so they all got a lot of one-on-one coaching.
  Bucket has a good instinct for strategy. Bruise is fearless and doesn't hesitate in going after the ball.
  Bubbles really likes vending machines.
• Whereas most Cub Scouts activities have been put on hiatus for the summer, Bucket still has Activity Days (which she loves). 
• Bruise had Day Camp (Cub Scouts) ... during the week where I had my ear infection. So, I didn't help carpool or anything. In fact, a couple days, people came to our place to pick him up and drop him off. I felt like a goober, being so helpless ... but I really do appreciate the service that people were eager to extend. (I love my ward family. They're awesome.)
  He had a great time. I'm glad that he was able to go.
• We've been feeding our missionaries more often. (Doesn't hurt that they come over on P-day to do laundry.) It's nice to know them so well. We chat a lot and make jokes and have fun. And I'm getting better and better at making vegetarian dishes (One of the sisters here can't digest meat. The sister she "replaced" couldn't eat meat or gluten. The one before her with food restrictions was gluten-intolerant ... It's been interesting, but has helped me learn some fun dishes ... or helped me realize some dishes that I make on a semi-regular basis that work for all these things.)
  It's nice that I have a standing future-plans date for AT LEAST one of these sisters to come back and visit ... and we'll have a movie night. I like things to look forward to.
• The kids had their dental work done. Bucket's front tooth has a filling to replace the part that chipped. (We had tried gluing it. By "we," I mean the dentist. It lasted maybe four hours. ... This should last around a decade or more, if she takes care of it.) Bruise had a filling.
• The kids have had private swimming lessons with Bob. He's our favorite swim coach. The kids have made progress. I don't know if they're ready yet to swim in the deep end, but they're doing so much better than at the start of the summer. And, since we have punch cards now, we have an excuse to go to the pool every so often, right?
• My Roxy-sis came down to spend the day a few weeks ago.
  (The day after Bucket sprained her toe ... Well, it's what you get if you run in the house and smash it against the couch AFTER your mom and dad BOTH tell you to STOP RUNNING IN THE HOUSE.) After taping up Bucket's toe, we took Auntie Roxy to lunch (Thai food, yum) and then downtown to look around. We went to the tea shop and then to the carousel museum. Then we went back to the house to cool down (it was crazy-hot).
• We've done some fun things with the town's summer passport kids' program. We tie-dyed (Bruise did a big scarf/cape. Bucket did an infinity scarf. I did a bag for Bubbles ... and "fixed" a pair of her leggings that had gotten stained.) We also went to a pizza dinner.
• I got Freyja-cat some medicine (kitty Prozac and flea treatment). Good stuff.
• We went to a movie at the park ... It was fun to see The LEGO Movie again on a big screen. We also liked watching so many bats flittering and soaring above us.
• We cleaned the church one weekend.
• I shared some Shanna Swendson books with a friend.
• We saw a local production of "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers."
• The kids got to go to a friend's baptism.
• Michael and Bruise went camping with Uncle C (Michael's brother), Cousin C, and Dad C ... they had lots of fun at a lakeside campground. C (Uncle) was the only one to catch a fish ... and that one was maybe four inches long.
  The big excitement was when Bruise reached out too far while Dad C was appreciating nature (and wasn't paying attention to Bruise for that ONE second), and their canoe went over in the middle of the lake.
  Everyone was fine. (Uncle) C found it hilarious. Dad and Bruise were wet, but safe. Dad swam the canoe to shore. Bruise got a ride back with C and C in the other canoe. Michael was there at the shore for them (He had been at the campsite, but felt that something was wrong and raced back to the lake just in time to watch the canoe tip over.)
• While all that was going on, Bucket, Bubbles, and I spent the night at Grandma (Mom C)'s for a girls-night-in. Aunt A (my sister-in-law-in-law, since we married brothers, you see) and her girls B and I and H all came, too. (A had to leave early since she had to work, though).
  My girls and I helped Mom C bake cookies. After the other girls came, they all colored plates for a Pinterest project (Spoiler: It didn't quite work). We ate dinner, painted our nails, watched Penelope (Which Bucket impressed me ... she described it about five minutes in as "It's like Beauty and the Beast, but the girl's the beast." ... And she's really right.)
  Bubbles fell asleep, so I took her to bed (where she kicked me about once an hour and rolled off the bed once) while the other girls watched The Neverending Story.
  I also flooded Grandma's (Great-grandma's) bathroom. I flushed the toilet and water just KEPT COMING. And I couldn't find the spigot to turn it off. So I lean out the bathroom door and call out, "MOM?? I need HELP."  ... She thought that I had somehow managed to hurt myself. No, not this time. But she turned off the water, I got a plunger from another bathroom, and we got things mopped up and taken care of. (NO, GUYS. It was JUST PEE.) She assured me that that toilet randomly does that.
  We baked a tie-dye cake in the morning. Turned out pretty well.
• By the time we all got home, Michael and I were pretty bushed. We got the kids showered/bathed and fed. We got ourselves showered (and Michael got a haircut). We ate dinner, got the kids into bed, and went to bed early.
• Bruise and Bucket have both given talks in Primary at church.
• We went to the bank today to put the contents of the kids' piggy banks into their accounts.
• I've done some Visiting Teaching ... in fact, I've done my August VT already (the formal visits/contacts) ... so I just need to keep in touch so that I can be aware of any needs. Phew.

And that really brings us up to today.

I could tell you all about my ear infection. I can mostly hear out of my left ear. It's just muffled/clogged-feeling. But I ended up on Vicodin, ear drops, and oral antibiotics. When I do something, I don't do it halfway, do I?

The kids and I are reading through the "About Animals" volume of Childcraft. (We've done The Plant Kingdom earlier this summer, then Princess Academy.)

I had a couple weeks where I read books ... it was really nice. I should start that back up.

I finally got my accounts (through FamilySearch) to MyHeritage, FindMyPast, and Ancestry.com.
Kind of obsess with Ancestry.com. Loving my membership with it.

Bubbles is talking lots more. "Amma's ouse"/("Grandma's House") is a new one. As well as "Iggy Ank"/("Piggy bank"). It's pretty cute.
She also has been sucking her thumb WAY too much ... the skin was starting to slough off ... so we've been putting some ointment on it. It's looking much better.

And I think that's most things. Hopefully.

If I've forgotten something, maybe someone will remind me. 

It's been WEEKS already?? Whoops!

Whoops! It's been ... almost a whole month since I last let you know that ... I'm alive and all.
My abject apologies.

Where did I leave off? June 12th?

Okay ... here's the recap:

• I donated blood. And I can take a little pride in the fact that I'm a FAST bleeder. Yeah, go me, right?
  Michael took off from work early so that he could make it to the blood drive, too.
  At first, he was going to swing by and pick up the kids, take them home, and I'd come home asap so he could run back to the church and donate blood.
  We decided to take a risk and have him stay. The kids would ride home with him, in his pretty work truck (He finally got it! And it's PRETTY. Everyone's all, "Oh! You got a new truck!" and we have to correct them that, no, it's not really OURS; it belongs to his office, but he gets to drive it around. (I do not get to drive it around. Which really does not break my heart too much. It's HUGE. Even with the back-up camera, I'm nervous enough driving as is.)
  The kids were getting terribly ansty ... so, once I made sure that I wasn't going to have a drop in blood pressure (where I get all clammy and pass out. It's happened before. Fun times. NOT.), I schlepped them home with VERY STRONG PHRASING of how I expect them to behave. Michael got home a bit later. 
• Also, Bruise earned his Wolf Badge and his Gold Arrow Point for Scouting. And I've gotten those badges (and his badge for the pinewood derby) sewn onto his shirt. The embroidery hoop I bought at Hobby Lobby made this SO FLIPPING MUCH EASIER.
• My mom spent the night a few weeks ago. Michael and I had a Stake Temple trip that we wanted to attend. We got to do an endowment session and then a chapel session (I love those chapel meetings. They make me happy. It's great to get insights from the Temple President).
• We've started our town's "Passport Program" for the summer (Kids get a "passport" and they can earn a stamp at each participating business/attraction [like a wetland park or a historic site]). Most things are downtown, but some are out a bit [e.g., the mill]. And each stamp is an entry into a drawing at the end of the summer). It's fun. 
• Then we had Fathers' Day ... I got Michael a shaving stuff kit. The kids (with my mom's help) got him bags of snacks (decorated with construction-paper ties) and a framed picture of them (they decorated the frame) for display at work. We also had a BBQ over at Michael's folks' place.
• Then we had the last week of school -- there was an assembly, which the kids barely let me know about (they were recognized for good behavior and good attendance -- earned themselves each a school t-shirt!), and a "fun day" at school, which had Bruise return home with a slight sunburn across his nose (Whoops, bad mom, forgetting sunscreen!).
• Bucket chipped a tooth (front, yes, it's a permanent tooth), playing peek-a-boo before Activity Days. It'll get fixed (permanently, mostly) on this coming Friday.
• We took the kids to the mill for a picnic (and a tour). They had fun grinding wheat. We were quite spoiled by our tour guide. We even got to feed ducks, chickens, and turkeys at the end.
• The missionaries for our ward (sisters missionaries) spent a day over here so they could get their laundry done. It was pretty fun. One of them is, for all purposes, my long-lost little sister ... if I had a little sister into K-Pop that I was ever aware of. We have fun together.
• The kids had a six-month dental check-up. Bucket needs to go back and get her tooth chip fix. Bruise has a small cavity (we need to work on flossing better). Bubbles HATES having anyone put their hands in her mouth ... but she's looking good!
• We've been trying to make it to most of the ward playdates (a gal at church created a little schedule for the summer. And it's been fun. Bruise and Bucket are the oldest kids going, but since we're meeting at parks or a splash pad, they have a good time, too).
• Our Summer Reading Program featured a storytime by a recently-retired children's librarian that we LOVE (and have desperately missed). It was lots of fun.
• We headed down to visit my side of the family. We stopped by Michael's work and then a children's museum (he dropped us off, since I'm not allowed to drive the work truck ... and he had an errand to run) and then headed down to visit my Dad and L, then my Nana (and uncle and aunt that she's living with), and Mom and C.
• Then back for church on Sunday.
• The kids played outside Monday morning. I needed to run to the store (where, in line, I noticed something in Bucket's hair ... lice. AGAIN).
  Turns out that both the older kids had head lice. We treated it and haven't seen ANYTHING since.
  So I'm totally a fan of LiceFreee! ... Yeah, I'm a convert. Saw it randomly at Wal-Mart when I was getting stuff the LAST time the kids had lice. Didn't use it then ... but tried it this time (since it was what I had on hand). It's gentler on the kids' heads; you can use/redo it as often as you like; the lice don't evolve an immunity to it; and it smells PRETTY DANG GOOD (like anise/black licorice).
• Since it's been nearly a week without seeing a single louse or egg, I'm STARTING to get over the psychosomatic itching. STARTING to.
• Bruise and Bucket started swimming lessons with Bob, their absolute favorite instructor. This is the first time that we're doing private swimming lessons. There was noticeable improvement just in their first lesson. I'm eager to see how they improve from this next lesson.

And, well, that should get us just about all caught up.
Michael reported to me that our new(er) vacuum has stopped working. Boo on that. Good thing we hadn't gotten rid of our older vacuum (wedding present from my Nana), so the house looks really nice.

I'm still working on my Rosetta Stone (Spanish), Memrise and Duolingo (Spanish, German, and French). Michael tells me that I should practice my French on folks in the ward (congregation) ... and Iwas slightly incredulous/sarcastic.
"What, you think I should go up to someone and be all, 'He is eating a black apple.', ;You are big and strong.' ... They're going to be all, 'Are you calling me fat?'"

But, I'll admit that my German skills are getting better (that Dative case, though. It's my nemesis) and I'm getting much better at reading/writing in Spanish and French. I still leave TONS of room for improvement, but I'm growing.

Bubbles is using her words a lot more. Which is nice.
She's also throwing EPIC, screaming tantrums. And biting. Both of which I will not be at all sorry when she gets over these stepping stones to big-kid-dom.
We need to get back into practice for potty-training. Wish me luck on that.

Michael and my tablets are now upgraded to Android KitKat.
We had to replace some of out shortcuts on the screen ... besides that, it's quite nice.
And my phone FREAKED ME OUT this morning ... couldn't recognize the SD card.
Just had to restart and it was all fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiine.
Thank goodness.

And we upgraded our phone account a bit ... we now have Caller ID on our landline, which is VERY nice.
Now I can avoid scammers and all those surveys. And I can return people's calls easily when they call that number.
AND our internet is about 4 times faster. Yaaaaaaas, I like that. A lot.
(Sure made downloading the KitKat update [619 MB] a LOT faster.)

We had a nice Independence Day. It was low-key. We hung around town, went for a walk through the wetlands park (saw a garter snake, lots of bullfrogs, a blue heron, some turtles, tons of ducks and ducklings, bunches of dragonflies, a couple caterpillars, a cute spider [white with pink spots, laying in wait on a Queen Anne's lace] ... good times. Then we went home, ate burgers, watched Thor:The Dark World (the kids hadn't seen it), and, eventually did some small fireworks in the street.

Bruise and Bucket are working their way through their second-grade level workbooks ... and I have third-grade level ones (and fourth-grade ones) waiting, so they'll be ready and prepared for school in ... another eight weeks.

This month is starting to get really busy -- soccer lessons (2x/wk), swim lessons (1/wk), park playdates (1/wk), and the passport program and the Summer Reading Program activities ... and I'd like to head out to the zoo and aquarium and OMSI and places.
And I need to get Bruce working a bit more on his other arrow points, if he wants to earn them!
And we can do some activities for Bruise and Bucket's Faith in God booklets.

And I SHOULD be finishing all my library books and all the housework.
Oh well.

But, overall, things are going pretty well.

It's June already? Whaaaaa?

Okay, I can't believe that it's nearly June (probably not helped by the fact that our Whiteboard calendar still says March ... since there's a HUGE lamp (from my Nana and Pop-pop's house) that makes it harder to change that up.

(I need to move the lamp to the top of a bookshelf to replace a different lamp there. BUT in order to do THAT, I have to empty that bookshelf enough to move it out, unplug the FIRST lamp, plug in the second lamp and reshelf all the books on that. AND in order to do THAT, I have to move Bruise's little table so that I can access the bookshelf! #smallhouseproblems)

But, yeah, what have I been doing with myself lately?
Gosh, let's think ...

• Last weekend, Michael took the big kids to a Youth Outdoor Day at a nearby wildlife park.
  They got to try fishing, Bucket painted a duck decoy and built a birdhouse, they posed for a picture in a gianormous Chinook model, they won prizes -- Bruise has a little folding camp stool and Bucket won herself a pink fishing pole. They also came home with lots of swag: little backpacks, "training knives" that they got to build and can use to practice the rules of having a real pocket knife, two shirts ... it was really impressive.
• Our kids' school also had their Family Fun Day. We went and ... had fun!
  Bruise was able to hit the target for the dunking tank. Bucket and Bubbles got their faces painted (a kitty "mask" and a little bunny on her cheek, respectively). The kids all got balloon animals (a sword for Bruise. Bucket opted for a kitty to match her mask -- they had a special heart-shaped balloon just for the cat's head, and a bunny for Bubbles). Bruise got a book at the book walk (like a cakewalk, but with books). Bubbles won a book on her first try at the bookwalk. Bubbles decided she wasn't interested this time. Her loss.
  We also picked up some sodas with the leftover tickets. Then we got pizza for dinner.
• Sunday, I was doing Bucket's hair and found a louse. Ugh.
  Then, while sitting on the pew at church, I had a louse crawling on my shirt ... from Bruise.
  YES, I have two kids with lice. UGH.
  So, after Sacrament Meeting (like Mass/Communion), I broke the Sabbath since I had to run to Wal-Mart and load up my arsenal.
  Once Michael brought the kids home, I used that special, stinky shampoo on Bruce and Bucket (and checked Bubbles' hair ... and Michael's hair. And he checked my hair. Repeatedly.
  I treated their beds with the lice-killer-spray. We combed through until there wasn't anything else to find.
  I can tell that we caught it pretty early. Only a few adults. Only a few nymphs.
  Still, I'm itchy just writing it down.
  And that made for a metric buttload of laundry to do.
  I let their teacher(s) at school know ... just to be responsible.
  WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPEN ON A SUNDAY? I just want to know.
  I blame Satan for this.
• Monday, I got the kids signed up for the local library's Summer Reading Program.
  Lately, we've taken a break from the Lemony Snickett book we're in the middle of (we've been getting started with story-story/the bedtime story a little late, so we don't have time to read a chapter each night) ... Randomly, Bucket brought me "The Green Kingdom" volume of my Childcraft books. We'll finish it tonight. I'm glad that the kids are enjoying it so much.
  During Summer, we'll be able to get through some more books a bit faster, I think. We can finish "Who Can It Be at This Hour?" ... maybe get through "The Princess Academy" and some other books. ... Debating on reading them "Sabriel." So many books, so little time!
• Tuesday, I woke myself up by having a bad dream where I found multiple louse nymphs doing Bucket's hair. Glad THAT was a nightmare.
  Michael had basketball that night. He ended up pulling a muscle in his upper thigh a bit.
  He jokes that, since his season he's (1) jammed his thumb, (2) borked his bad knee, (3) pulled a muscle in his upper arm/shoulder, (4) pulled a muscle in his upper thigh, all that's left for him to do (tonight, since it's the last game) is either stub his toe or take a head shot.
  I told him, PLEASE let it be the toe. Because, with the kids in bed by the time he's playing, I can't drive over to the church to drive him home with a concussion.
  
  Also, while he was at basketball on Tuesday night, and I was watching "My Cat From Hell" on Netflix, curled up with Freyja-cat, I hear *cough cough cough GAG CRY!!* from Bubbles.
  I run into the kids' room. She's sitting in her bed with two handfuls of dinner-vomit in her hands.
  Amazingly, she only got the slightest bits on her dress and a blanket.
  I clean her up, brush her teeth, and put her back to bed in clean jim-jams and a coating of VapoRub.
  
  About ten minutes later, ... *cough cough* "MOOOOOOM!!! [BUBBLES] THREW UP AGAIN!!"
  It's still a really small amount -- on her pillowcase and her pajamas ... and her bunnies' ears smell kinda funky (they get washed the next morning).
  Get her cleaned up, add a dose of Children's Pepto, a smidgen of cough syrup, clean pajamas. And wish for the best.
  
  Michael gets home shortly after that. I tell him of the excitement he's missed as he limps with that pulled muscle in his thigh.
  
  We go to bed, think about maybe getting a little intimate ... THEN *cough cough GAG*
  
  Well, I can report that Bubbles DID NOT throw up ... but she was in our bed (not coughing or gagging) for the rest of the night. ... Best laid plans, right?
  
• So, after that eventful and un- night, I aired out the kids' room. Just in case it was the lice-killer spray off-gassing that was aggravating Bubbles' lungs (seems like that was the trick. She slept like a log last night).
  My mom came up for a visit. We eventually went to the store to pick up snacks and dinner with the kids. (Bruise was hankering for fish sticks. Yeah. I know.)
  It was a nice visit. We chatted and I shared random videos and websites with her. The usual. We also talked about how things are going with my stepdad (the dementia is ... there. And he's had some issues with medication. ... And his hearing isn't the best. Also, he recently had to have the rest of his teeth pulled and get some new dentures). The motor for the fan in their heat pump broke. He says that he'll fix it, but hasn't yet. (I told Mom to give him a date. If it's not done by then, she's going to get someone else to do it. And that's it. ... I'm mean, I know. But, well, she's willing to pay for it to be fixed. And she shouldn't have to wait around for the stars to align JUST so in order to get it fixed. She has a point ... it took him nearly a YEAR to get the water pump replaced. It was nuts. And crazy-frustrating.)
• I woke up from a dream this morning. Strange dream.
  I was at my Nana and Pop-pop's house, they don't own it/live there anymore.
  And I was with other people. One was a mix of my cousin (S) and my sister-in-law, A.
  There were two mice in the house. I caught them and was releasing them outside.
  As I closed the door so they'd be outside (and a white cat inside wouldn't kill them), I couldn't close the door, because another (wild) mouse was getting squished in the doorframe, toward the middle of the bottom of the door.
  A/S handed me some Kleenex so I could pick it up and move it (as it's squealing and bleeding).
  The tissues are soaked and dripping blood. And I don't want it to suffer ... but I don't want to kill it. Though killing it would be much more merciful than seeing/hearing/knowing it is in pain.
  
  I don't remember what I ended up doing. Might have woken up.
  
  Another part of my dream featured a book fair. But it was more like a pre-order book fair. And I didn't have my kids with me. Or, at least, Bruise wasn't there. And I picked out a book for each child, guessing on his. His teacher said that was fine. And that, yes, I could choose something else if he opted to get a different book.
  When I went to get the order, I did choose a different book for him. And then she was freaking out because it was a lot more popular than she had thought and more people wanted it than she had books in stock. And I wasn't going to give it up, since I had permission in advance to get him what he wanted.
  
  Yeah, my dreams are weird. At least, what I remember about them.

Today, I need to finish up laundry (on the home stretch!!!), do dishes, make dinner, take Bubbles to a WIC-thing, ... things like that. Nothing wildly amazing ... but things that do need to be done.
Oh, and practice my Spanish and German. (Yay for the kids' school offering use of Rosetta Stone Classroom for Spanish. I also am supplementing it with Duolingo. And added Memrise. And I'm trying Pronunciator [through the local library's site] and LiveMocha ... Overachiever much?)
(Also, French is HAAAAAAAAAARD, with the silent 't's and 's's. My Duolingo scores there are pretty awful. But my German and Spanish have improved!)

Bruise reports that Cub Scouts wasn't very fun ... he had to SAND HIS RAINWATER REGATTA BOAT.
(When he learned that they were doing the Rainwater Regatta, he told me, "I worked REALLY HARD on my car. NOW I have to make a BOAT. *facepalm*"
I did my best not to pee myself laughing. I can understand his frustration ... but, hey, it's something he can mark off for an arrow point requirement.)

Bruise was a little disappointed yesterday ... for his pack, usually the first Wednesday of the month is a Pack meeting, then the next two Wednesdays are den meetings. This month, it's switched so we have the Den meetings first (to work on the Rainwater Regatta boats) and the third Wednesday is the Pack meeting.
He'll be getting his Wolf badge and his gold arrow point at the Pack meeting ... so I was a little sad, too. But, hey, this will give me an extra week to get all his badges sewn on, right? ... And, who knows, maybe he can get enough requirements done to get a silver arrow point by the Pack meeting. So I can get THAT sewn on.)

Tomorrow is Michael's birthday. I should do something special, huh?
He knows that I love him. And I know that he's not a person who's all out for birthday extravagance.
But I should make him a cake.
Or some bacon.
Or biscuits and gravy.
Or STEAK.
And maybe a pie.

I do have a present for him.
So that's something, right?

Ha! Bubbles obviously had pressed a button on the remote while watching Frozen.
So Anna and Elsa's song was sped up just a little. Not QUITE like The Chipmunks, but it was definitely not normal.
Wow.

Okay ... This weekend is a little busy. Still combing through hair twice a day, looking for eggs and nymphs; we have a niece and nephew who've had birthdays; the next town over is having a celebration, complete with parade; Home Depot has their free kids' activity. And we should continue celebrating Michael's birthday. ^_^

And Bucket is giving a scripture in Primary at church.

No rest for the wicked, right? 

So ... how was YOUR Mother's Day? (Mothers' Day? Whatever.)

Mine started off with breakfast ... that was kinda in bed, but I was in the shower by the time the kids brought it in. Oops.

I managed to get ready and dressed and everything ... we made it to church on time.

After the Primary (ages 3-11) kids sang to the moms and were coming back to sit in the congregation, Bubbles realized that SHE didn't get to do anything cool ... and started WAILING. So I took her out for a breather. Then, later, Michael took her out ... and she went to Nursery (18 months-3 years) a titsch early.

Good times.

In Sunday School, I noticed that something was moving on Michael's sweater vest.



It was a louse.

So, after Sunday School, I checked Bucket's hair (she was sitting on that side of Michael during Sacrament  (like Communion meeting)) and there was another.

As soon as church was over, we hied ourselves over to Target and broke the Sabbath to get the LAST(!!) lice kit (apparently, the real word is pediculicide ... who knew?) and I treated Bucket's head ... and checked everyone else's heads.

Thankfully, we caught it really early. Only, like THREE adults and maybe ten smaller ones (including the one on Michael's sweater) ... and that's a generous estimate.
I've been checking her head twice daily since ... and it's all VERY clean and clear and under control. THANK GOODNESS. Oh, thank goodness, indeed.

Then we went and visited Mom and Dad C ... and came back home and went to bed early. Since we were all exhausted.

Why were we all tired?

Because FRIDAY was the Father-Son Campout!
Michael took Bruise, a couple of the neighbor boys (whose father has passed), and a friend/other adult guy.
Michael's back was VERY SORE by the time he got home. And he didn't rest well at all.

Bruise and Bucket, despite being miles and miles apart, fell asleep around the same time. Twin magic?
I put Bubbles to bed around 9:30, which is late for her, since she was GRUMPY and wouldn't lie down on her sleeping bag in the front room.

Bucket and I watched "America's Cutest" and then a few episodes of "My Cat From Hell" until she fell asleep ... on the couch that I was going to sleep on.
So I went to my own bed. ... And, without Michael, it's too big.
I stayed up until around 12:30/12:45 playing on my tablet.

So, yeah, we were all cranky/tired.
Michael got home, got a shower, took a nap. I laid down with him for a bit after the kids had showers ... no hot water left for my shower. So I read and started to doze a little until the hot water tank was full again.

Then we worked at getting the tent and tarp clean and dry so we could store them until the summer.
(Western Oregon = humid, mildew capital! ... I still love it, though. It's so green.)

Then we headed out and did some grocery shopping ... and came home.
Michael sat in the recliner and fell asleep. I was on the couch and I fell asleep (Bruise maintains that I did not snore. Bucket says that I did. But Bruise says that was Michael).

Yeah ... It makes me wonder why our Stake chooses the weekend of Mother's Day for that campout. ... "Here! Go out and have fun! If you want to take your wives/mothers out the next day? Well, have fun with that after making her help clean stuff, do a crapload of muddy laundry, and having everyone exhausted! Whooo!!" ... Yeah ... I'm a little conflicted with the timing on that.

This year, with the lous-y situation (ha ha ha.......), I really fell behind on getting stuff done.
I meant to call my mom and Nana and L and Michael's Gramma (she's Southern), send an e-card to Aunt J and Grampy's wife, bring a card to Grandma C, and visit with Mom C.

Well, I called my mom. And we visited with Mom C and Grandma C (brought a present for Mom C. I'm waiting for the rest of my mom's present to arrive). ... I sent out emails to Grampy's wife, Aunt J, and L this morning ... Apparently, when Nana was talking to my dad, she thought he was me ... Yeah. dementia is not the best thing.

And ... well, I have a filthy house, dinner to get prepared, a dinner to deliver, laundry to be done, dishes to be done ... At least the hall bathroom is clean. I just need to put towels in there. It's a start, right?

I think that, next year, I'll steal Jenny's idea and just ask for a clean house that I don't have to clean myself.
Since, well, no matter how much I tidy it up while Bubbles naps and the kids are at school, it's trashed by the next morning. I'm running out of caring. Especially after how I wasn't motivated at all last week ... it's not pretty. Oh well.

I did get some pretty pictures from the kids, though.

Blergh.

So, apparently, as much as I try, I'm not as well-adjusted as I try to be.

So, I heard back from the wife of the friend who called me manipulative.

Backstory: When I first learned that he and his family were in the ward, he let me know that (1) she is pretty new to the church and (2) she is uncomfortable around people she doesn't know.

These are good things to know. And how do you get to know people well enough to get comfortable around them? ... Well, spending some time around them or adding them on Facebook at least (so you can get some insight to their character/personality/sense of humor/life) can help.

I met her ONCE in real life. I tried to be friendly, but not overbearing; kind, easy-going ... you know, on my best behavior.

I sent her a Facebook friend request, along with a facebook message letting her know who I am ... some people are better with faces/names ... and letting her know that she could join our (private) Facebook group for playdates and other kids' activities. This way, she can take her kids to something fun AND have a chance to meet up with some other gals from church. Get to know THEM in a low-key environment and all that.

She never took me up on either offer.

When I sent [her husband] the text and facebook message about a possible visit, I also messaged her, too. Since some spouses check Facebook more often than others. Figured I'd cover my bases.

When I heard back from [her husband], I should have just sent another message ... something like "Oh, never mind! Heard back from your husband. Maybe a visit another time ... or meeting up at a park or something another time!"

... But, well, I didn't do that.

So, last night, I got a message back from her which basically said

1. I hardly know you
2. Don't invite yourself over 
3. Don't message me again

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

In my defense, I never said that I was the one coming over. Just that I needed to know if that date/time would work for a visit.

Yes, she hardly knows me. Because she never made any effort to get to know me. I understand that people are busy and stuff. But, heck, I've met people through blogging or friends-of-friends through Facebook. Doesn't take much effort at all to respond to a message.

Sure, I won't message you again. Doesn't give me any opportunity to apologize or whatever. And I don't LIKE when people think poorly of me. I'm not perfect. Heck, I'm a big screw-up (apparently even more so than I had first thought! Joy!!/sarcasm).

I mean, I can entertain fantasies that someone will drop a letter off to them telling them that

• I was just trying to help my husband. Since THEY never respond to anyone else's texts, calls, stopping by.
• I was not going to be a part of the visit. Michael and the Stake President (most likely) were. So I wasn't going to invade their INNER SANCTUM OF SOLITUDE or whatever.
  (Geez, it's not like we're living high on the hog. We have five people, a cat, and two fish crammed into a two-bedroom manufactured home. One that is rather cluttered and all. It's never going to be featured in Better Homes and Gardens or House Beautiful or anything.)
• And they don't have to take the opportunity to get to know me (better in the husband's case, since it's been a while) ... and, with that, they're missing out. 

• Because I can be really nice. I can bake. I can make jokes (often self-depreciating!). I can whip up a decent card in MS Publisher. But, hey, if you're not willing to give me a chance, I need to get over myself. Because I need to realize that it's not worth fretting over ... and my energies can be better utilized in other things ... on people who actually appreciate what I'm trying to do.
• AND, if you DON'T want visits or calls or whatever from your Home Teachers, Visiting Teachers, or anyone, you need to stop blowing everyone off for months, put on your big-kid panties, and ask to be put on the Do-Not-Contact list. We'll respect that. It'll make it easier on those trying to serve you AND it'll make it so that you're not bothered by people who just want to serve you or get to know you or have concern for you. Because we don't want to be a bother. 

Yeah, I'm cycling through frustration and dejection.
Since apparently, I suck at dealing with rejection, too. FUN FUN!! Issues are the BESTEST!!
(In case you were wondering, that was complete sarcasm right there.)

I  do admit that I harbor some fantasies that [the husband] will someday be all, "Allanna, I was a jerkbuttface when you were just trying to help out your husband and show that you care. I shouldn't have done that. You up for a game of Spastic Uno?" or [the wife] will initiate a message on Facebook or something.
Or that they just forget about this ... awkwardness.

Because it sucks, knowing that someone is upset because of you.

Can I hope that they just have some issue in their brains that they are already over this? And it's just me obsessing over being thought of as having less-than-perfect manners?

Any ways to learn (at 33, I'm so old!) how NOT to let other people's judgements be felt so keenly?

'Cause I'm totally in the market for some kind of non-accredited course like that. TOTES.

Oh, well. Imma go and contact the gals that I Visit Teach. Because, at least, THEY like hearing from me and know that I'm not a complete buttmunchjerkwad. In fact, 3/4 of them totally know that I'm good to have around in a pinch. We can sit and chat and laugh. That other one, at least, knows that I care for her and genuinely LIKE her (she's great. I know her from Girls' Camp, when she was in YW [Young Women's, the 12-18 year-old girls' group]).

Yeah, stuff like this just sucks. I hate feeling/knowing that I screwed up ... especially when I have the best of intentions. Because, dang it, I'm personally invested in this family that (apparently) thinks that I'm an overbearing jerk. How can we HELP them at all --effectively --, if we don't know their needs?

Well, there's prayer. And, oh, if that's the only tool we have, it's GONNA get USED.

Well, at least I can try to content myself with the knowledge that I know, his mom knows, Michael knows, the bishop knows, my mom knows, and Heavenly Father and Jesus know that I was trying to do something right. Something good.
And maybe they're not ready to accept it as that. But, eventually, they'll get that. And they'll know that I was just trying to be nice and helpful and having their best interests (along with helping Michael, who's -- face it -- a bit of a higher priority, y'know) at heart.

So, yeah, it makes me sad that they took it this way.
But I can't MAKE them ... do anything.
As Detective Lestrad would say, "Not my department!" (That's a BBC Sherlock reference, in case you were terribly confused.)

And, yeah, I'm hoping (as I'm sure that MICHAEL'S hoping) that this is my last post about this ... unless something absolutely miraculous happens and I can report some good news about this whole fiasco.

But, until I'm over it, I might as well just hash it out on "paper" ... It's therapeutic, right? Cathartic, at least. Either that or making some serious bread, so that I can KNEAD it and BEAT it quite a bit.
Or else I should just get on the elliptical (like I should do anyways) and watch some trash TV (Toddlers and Tiaras? Honey 2? Sharknado?). Or get some paints and hash things out on paper (but, well, that might be frustrating for me. Things never turn out how I see them in my head. Which is ... frustrating. But, well, it'd give me something ELSE to be frustrated at, right?).

Honestly, I'm rather jealous of people who don't live nearly completely inside their heads. It must be really freeing to escape from thoughtsthoughtsthoughts all the time. At least, when I read or if I'm acting, I get to escape from MY thoughts and into someone else's. It's nice.
But I've never gotten to that place when dancing or (attempting at) running when your mind can go blank and you're just sensation moving through space. Is that what an endorphin high feels like?
I wouldn't really know. Oh well.

Like I said, "blergh."

And where can I buy origami paper locally? Because that could take my mind off things. It requires focus. And ends up with something pretty. Heck, maybe I could make a cool paper-crane mobile for the kids' room. Or over my desk.
Screw it, I'm going to look up one on Pinterest.

(Aaaaaand, as I say that, all I can think of is George -- "This place is a tomb! I'm going to the nut shop, where it's FUN." Yay for random movie quotes.)

Mulling it over

So, it's been a night since that latest fiasco ... and, like I told Michael and my mom, I'd bounce back enough.

The good thing about me is that, thankfully, part of being me is feeling things SO intensely (I'd be a good Gothic novel heroine that way) but I can get over it. I burn brightly but burn out quickly.

Of course, I also will deny that things are an issue ... until I end up sobbing over a movie, highlighting my abandonment issues. *humorless laughter*

But, for the most part, I'm pretty over this. I made my way through feeling horrible for making someone feel bad, to blinding rage because I really didn't do anything that wrong -- but my words/actions were quite misconstrued, to being really irked that someone who's known me for the vast majority of his LIFE couldn't give me the benefit of the doubt ... or at least be civil, to being frustrated that he couldn't at least make the decision to be civil, to being resigned and bummed that there's something obviously going on that he doesn't feel that he can let anyone in the ward know about.

I do keep thinking about things that I could have said differently in my response (which I KNOW that he's seen, since Facebook TELLS you if someone has seen it ... or has, at least, left their window open with the chat open).

Things like:

• Hey, I am sorry that you took what I said/wrote to be manipulative. That was not my intent at all.
  Maybe if that was your first response, you should have balanced out that feeling with your knowledge of me and my character. When have I tried to manipulate you in the past? Ever? No?
  Then why would you assume that I'd start now?
• Dude, what's up? I'm reading past your hurtful words that something is wrong. This isn't like you.
  The [Name] I know is an easy-going, happy guy with a great sense of humor. Something's up.
  As your friend, I would love to help. I like to fix things. I can't fix stuff (or even give it my best) without knowing what the problem is. Let me in, okay? ... Do you wanna build a snowman?
• I spent way too much time yesterday feeling horrible (that's my fault) for being a horrible person, since I do my darndest to not be manipulative. However, with some time to distance myself from the immediate situation, I have realized that (1) asking if a visit is convenient is not manipulative and (2) calling it manipulative was quite illogical and irrational. I was spending too much time feeling bad for being called something that wasn't true. Why would you say something that was so hurtful when it wasn't true?

I also thought about saying things like:

• THAT wasn't manipulative. If I were being manipulative, I'd have told you that you'd better be there for a visit or I'd have an anonymous source make a payphone call to the police that you're running a meth lab in your kids' bedroom. THAT WOULD BE MANIPULATIVE.
  Requesting a response? Not manipulative.
  You could have said "That doesn't work for us.", "I don't want a visit.", "Put us on the DNC list at church.", "My house is a mess.", "Take our names off the church records.", "You can't come over until you bring us a plate with six dozen cookies, including snickerdoodles and chocolate with white chocolate chips.", or a vast many other responses -- none of which resort to name-calling.
  If you would have responded to ANY of the other phone calls or voicemail messages that have been left by people OTHER THAN ME during the past year, do you think that I'd have been requested to contact you to even find out if you're alive? Being perfectly honest, my husband is more than irked that you've blown people off by not having the guts to even text back "I don't want visits. Leave us be." See? You can be cold and callous and impolite -- rude, even! --to people that aren't as close. That distance allows for that. But to do this to me? That's cold, man. And I know that it isn't you.
  Seriously, acting like that towards me is comparable to kicking a puppy. Because you know that I am  not a manipulative person ... at least, I work NOT to be. Coercion is not my bag, baby. 

I know that I shouldn't have let it get to me in the first place. Water off a duck's back, right?
But, well, when you get a response like that from someone you think you know, someone you've grown up with? ... Well, it makes me wish I were a little more psychopathic -- in the way that "Oh, I hurt someone's feelings. I didn't mean to. Oh well. Long hair, don't care"-type way.
(As opposed to plotting his revenge for years and taking that guy DOWN. Again, not my style.)

One of the good things, I guess, is that Michael had a PPI (Personal Priesthood Interview -- a 1:1 meeting with our bishop) last night. He showed Bishop the message I sent to [Name] and let him know what [Name] replied. ... And, well, Bishop M was surprised. So, well, I guess that means that I wasn't being manipulative (yeah, I need MULTIPLE witnesses. I mean, I figure that Michael would try to let me down gently, since I'm his wife and he knows how I can react. I figure that my mom would give it to me straight, but as gently as possible. For Bishop M to agree ... well, that helps, too ... Apparently, I just need lots of validation. I mean, I was about to email my RS President (who I work with a lot) to check. And my "Sis," who has seen me at my bests and worsts. I didn't ... but I really thought about it.) ... I mean, if Bishop read my message and was shocked at the coldly-vitriolic response, then I figure that it's not just me. That I really didn't make some horrible gaffe.

So, readers ... some of you have known me IRL for a while. Am I completely wrong?
If you think that I'm manipulative, I'd like to be aware. And I've asked for this ... I'll do my best not to get miffed if you tell me that I have done something manipulative. It'd be illogical for me to react that way to you. Since you're just giving me honest feedback that I've requested. And, if I'm not aware of my faults, how can I try to improve myself?

But I do feel better this morning ... especially compared to how crap I felt last night. Sleep is a good thing.

Update:
I did let his mom (who's known me since I was three) know what's up.
She confirmed that if he's lashing out, it's because he knows that he can't justify how he's not committed right now to anything church-related. But that she knows and I should know that I'm not the person [Name] is trying to frame me as. That I shouldn't waste any time feeling bad. ... And, coming from her, that does mean a lot. She was my main Seminary teacher, so she saw me in the early mornings nearly every school day for about three years. Besides seeing me just about every Sunday for around 15 years.
It does make me feel better ... and lets me know more of what's up. And I appreciate that.
So ... I should just say my prayers. And let this storm blow over.
Since, she points out, love and concern are not the same thing as manipulation.
Phew.