politics & my blog hardly ever mix.

I have an admission to make.

While I am a devoted left wing Democrat through & through, my love has never run terribly deep for Barack Obama.

I'm a Hillary lover. When Senator Clinton didn't win the democratic nomination, I was incredibly sad. Surprised? Not terribly but sad nonetheless. I've never been opposed to Obama, nor do I have any nagging suspicions that I should become a switch hitter to the right wing side (sorry Dad, it ain't happening, not ever), I just never fell madly in love with the man. I shared the moment of Obama's victory with my friend Tiffany who was overjoyed. I'll remember that crushing tv announcement and our coinciding phone call forever. Hillary, we need you. Shush Tiffsters. ;)

Enter Joe Biden.
The election suddenly feels a little brighter, my democratic faith refreshed, renewed. While its true I may never become a coined Obama Mama, feel free to call me a Biden Bitch.

George John McCain, you're probably going to want to think hard, move fast and pick a really awesome person to run as vice-president with you. You know, like Hillary Clinton or something. ;)

soccer, forts & funks.

Disclaimer: I love & adore my 4 children. I feel incredibly blessed to have them. The day-to-day summer break while recovering from a pretty major surgery in late June plus an unexpected bout with 'da funk, however, has me feeling worn down. 3 boys who love to argue, bicker & fight plus a toddler who is uber-independent, defiant & runs really fast has left me exhausted, cranky and in need of a vacation.

Don't be fooled by this sweet little face.

Soccer is officially underway. The hour long practice last night on such a beautiful evening should have been wonderful. Jackson building on his soccer star qualities on the field, his younger brother rooting for him on the side. His mom holding his toddler sister on her hip, smiling & cheering.

Wake up Marissa - that shit only happens to other families. In fact, ALL the other families there last night. For me it was husband away on business, me chasing a 2 year old who prefers to continuously run into the road that runs adjacent to the soccer field and a 5 year old who listens to me about as well as Everly could hear during the first year of life. Doesn't every 2 year old act out of control like mine? Don't all 5 year olds hold complete disregard for their mothers? Apparently not. Just mine.

I did the only thing I know how to do; fake the funk, cry inside & breathe deeply on the outside. Someday my time will come that I can actually sit in a lawn chair and watch the child I came to see. I did whip out my camera and got Wilson & Everly to cooperate for a few minutes to pass the time. Not one picture of the kid who's time it was for my attention. There was no time for that. And yes, I know looking at the pictures you'd never be able to believe my stories - trust me when I say their horns retract at the first sight of a camera. Don't get me wrong, I love these kids and would lay down and die a painful death for any of these little shits but once in awhile I'd like to at least look like one of those moms.

You know those moms, the ones whose Lexus SUV is spotless inside & out. Her hair is always freshly cut & colored, her polished nails either perfectly manicured or recently filled and her makeup? Always on & flawless. Her clothes are stylish, trendy and pressed and her shoes actually coordinate and she manages her kids while wearing HEELS. Her voice is always upbeat, positive & encouraging, she always redirects rather than saying the dreaded "no" word, her patience is ever-flowing and she's always got enough time to not only be at every field trip, she helped organize the thing and made organic cupcakes with zucchini frosting in theme to celebrate the event. Her children, Skip & Skipper, would never yell or jump on the furniture and their house is tidy & neat, always.

I'm. not. one. of. those. moms.

I lied. I did get a picture of Jackson.
I was able to crop & zoom a picture of Wilson & Everly
that had Jackson in it way off in the distance.
It won't always be this way, right?

I'm one of us moms whose hair is in a ponytail. Sure, its usually washed hair, I'm not always that skanky. My outfit of choice is usually shockingly similar to the clothes I'm going to later work out in and my coordinating shoes start with the word "tennis". I'm running on a caffeine high and my car, well let's just say that more than one toy or art project has fallen out when the minivan door slides open. It is a pretty kick ass minivan but a minivan just the same. My nails are plain & short, I start my day usually in a pleasant mood and by the time I see people besides my immediate family, my nerves are quite possibly already shot for the day. Make up on a daily basis? What's that? I am not, however, one of those Walmart moms screaming at their kids with reckless abandon. Admittedly they scare the shit out of me. I make it to some school field trips but since the no-younger-siblings rule often stands in my way, I feel guilty on field trip days far more often than I'm in attendance of them. In my own defense, I do bake & decorate some kick ass cupcakes on occasion and I use real :gasp: SUGAR. I have 4 children, a large family by US standards, we don't fit into a standard booth at a restaurant (to the dismay of my mother) and we're too often too loud for the setting in which we're set. I do expect manners out of my kids, cleanliness and good grades. We're not hooligans for goodness sake.

If you are one of those moms, could you give one of us moms a more compassionate look next time? That look you gave me yesterday? It did more harm to your forehead wrinkles than it did to my psyche. Let me give you a number to my plastic surgeon, he does botox too. Who am I kidding, you probably have him on speed dial, duh. Go pop an "as needed" pill, you know you take them too.

I digress.... so soccer is underway. Funk be damned, I wish I could have enjoyed it a little more. Hell, I wish I was enjoying LIFE a little more. Mind you, I'm not miserable. But I sure ain't happy either.

After soccer (& football for B) practices, we played outside for a bit and tended to the garden. If anyone lives in the near vicinity of me, please stop over and take green peppers, cucumbers and tomatoes off my hands. I have them coming out my ears.

The boys set out to build the biggest living room fort yet last night and then they slept in it. Wilson spent too much energy being Wilson apparently because he fell asleep on the couch as it went into construction. I think it was bigger than my first home.

This morning Brenden & I went in to have our blood draws. He had one tube taken, I had four. He said he's now woozy and not sure if he can go to football practice, he lost so much blood. I told him to stop being a wussy with a p. I bought him Wendy's for lunch....to regain his strength.

My dad says I need to start focusing on what I have and finding happiness within it rather than wallowing in what I don't have. Makes sense. I think I need a vacation from all that I do have though. Or maybe I just need school to start. Yessssss, I do think that's it.

And to think more than once I've considered homeschooling. :snort: It's awesome but so obviously not me.

:/

still blah.

busy as shit but blah just the same.

even shopping isn't as much fun anymore.

a big FUCK YOU to this funk.

blah blah blacksheep.

blah.

struggling.

Sometimes He calms the storm

All who sail the sea of faith
Find out before too long
How quickly blue skies can grow dark
And gentle winds grow strong
Suddenly fear is like white water
Pounding on the soul
Still we sail on knowing
That our Lord is in control

Sometimes He calms the storm
With a whispered peace be still
He can settle any sea
But it doesn't mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child

He has a reason for each trial
That we pass through in life
And though we're shaken
We cannot be pulled apart from Christ
No matter how the driving rain beats down
On those who hold to faith
A heart of trust will always
Be a quiet peaceful place.

http://www.myspace.com/scottkrippayne

Lately I've been overwhelmed. I learned years ago through my own personal experience/hell that admitting you're hurting will be seen as a triumphant weakness to those who aren't your biggest fans.

Because of that experience, I sat silently defeated and regretting ever admitting out loud that I needed some support & a temporary shoulder to lean on. I saw first hand that some people actually rejoice in others' pain. Sick. I'm just a flawed human like everyone else.

I found myself pleading with God this afternoon to hear my prayer & help calm this storm. Or me. My problems are so small in comparison to others and I feel incredibly selfish when I pray for myself when others need my prayers & God's attention in such bigger ways.

But far too often lately, I'm feeling like I'm every body's nobody, a life with little purpose, basically invisible to so many people in my life. I pray often for a staircase out of that hell. In the meantime, could I humbly ask for a little hand in prayer? My one voice just doesn't seem to be enough right now.

"Protect me, O Lord. My boat is so small and your sea is so big."

who are you anyway?

Wilson just said a bad word. After I told him not to. That, in a nutshell, sums up my Wilson.

Everly heard him and said, "Mama, no no WhewWee."

I laughed and said, "You're the mama now, huh?"

"No, mama you. I Gaf."

"Garth? You're Garth now? I'm the mama and you're the daddy?"

"No, I MeeYa."
(what she calls herself. A compilation of her 2 favorite words: me & mine. Lovely.)

"ok MeeYa."

"I MeeYa, you Mama, WhewWee no no."

7 words strung together with true thought process behind it.
She is amazing, even if her name is actually Everly, not MeeYa.

She's going to be a great, bossy ass mama someday.

Just like her mama.
I love her.

Wilson saying bad words even when he knows he shouldn't?

Just like his mama.
I love him.

You want FIRES with that?

Sometimes life with 4 kids can be pretty exciting...and its usually pretty busy too. One thing you can always count on is it being loud.

Lately life has been pretty boring. The play performances are about half over, football season is underway, the summer is winding down and this past week not too much has been going on. I'm hardly complaining. I did however spend just under $175 last week for 3 pairs of Nike tennis shoes for the boys for school. That was fun. Today I got Brenden's school folders on sale from .89 to .15 each so I guess I should just consider it a wash from the shoe expense, eh? Next week: haircuts. We're about a month past due on those and the boys are looking like some serious raggamuffins. There's no way I could send them to school looking like they do. No way.

Brenden had his 14 year physical today (14 years?!? what?!?) and he's healthy as a clam other than the scoliosis he still has going on (it's still very mild, so no freaking out Dad), he's off to get his cholesterol checked (thanks Dad, this one I blame on you...husky genes = husky jeans) and something else struck the doctor as probably slightly off within him when she saw the size of the bruises he gets from football practice, the vast array of said bruises, the ease of such bruises, and the frequency of the nosebleeds he's forever been afflicted with. A few bajillion questions later she had this 'aha!' moment where she suggested rather than send him off for a blood test for it, its a genetic thing, suggested I get the blood test done first. Odd. Not what I went in to the pediatrician for but if I do come up positive for this odd blood disorder, it'd make a lot of sense for the symptoms my own family doctor has passed off as nothing all these years even though I've mentioned it on numerous occasions. Long story vaguely long, I look forward to finding out next week if I/we get to wear medic alert bracelets forevermore....great. Not only would my own children need to be tested for it, my sister experiences some of the same symptoms and she'd most likely need to be tested for it as well. Shit, I went in just to get my kid a 14 year physical for football - what the hell did I get myself into?!

We were then off to my dr's office to make an appointment - it's across the street & I am past due for it anyway - and knowing myself like I do, procrastination often takes a stronghold over me and I'd put it off...for like forever. Fingers crossed that B & I are just weird, perhaps my sister too and that no positive results come from this lab work. Then again, it would explain a lot. I don't quite know yet what I think about it. No use putting the cart before the horse anyway.

We got out of the dr's office at straight up noon and met up with the Garfsters for a yummy middle eastern lunch at one of my favorite restaurants near his office.


The kids meals didn't come with free drinks but they do have rice & free fire extinguishers if you need one, which is a plus:

Later this afternoon I went shopping. For myself. Alone. Heaven. Having shrunk from a size 16 to a 6 and from an XL/XXL to a M, I really am at a loss for clothes that fit. I'm slowly figuring out the remedy for that. Shopping.

Everly & I are now home relaxing as the rest of the brood is at the 3rd of 5 community theatre performances which Brenden & Wilson both have roles in. While it's been a lot of fun for the 2 of them this summer (Jack wasn't interested but has since kicked himself over that decision), I'll be quite ok when this production finally draws its last curtain call. Wilson was the youngest cast member for this play and has done FABULOUS for his first theatre experience. Quite the theatrical, dramatic personality on that one. Wherever might he have gotten it? This was Brenden's 3rd community theatre play and hands down, his absolute best role & performance yet.

I leave you today with a picture of my sunflower that I grew from seed, started in my kitchen. I have one green ass thumb. toot! toot!

oh shit. ouch.

I worked out yesterday. Boy, did I work out. It didn't even feel like that killer of a work out while I was doing it, other than my abs.

Today, I can barely walk.
My butt. My abs. My arms. My abs. My legs. My abs. My back. My abs.
Ouch.

During my surgery in June, I had separated abdominal muscles pulled back together. Four pregnancies will separate the hell out of just about every part of a girl but can really do a doozy on your abs. While under, my doctor also noticed an undetected umbilical hernia that needed repair and was most likely the cause of some of the wonky pain I'd intermittently experience while working out.

Everything elective I chose to have done in June is stellar. I'm sewed back together ala Frankenstein (oh the stares I get in the locker room at a red incision that goes 360 degrees around me that includes being artistically cut around the tattoo on my back so as to not disturb it), I'm feeling great and although this surgery has by far been THE most painful thing I've ever endured (I repeat: it made childbirth look like child's play), I'd do it again tomorrow for the results I achieved. Not a lick of regret.

The medical repairs? Oh shit. Ouch. I saw the Dr. again last Monday for a surgery follow up/surgery pre-op appointment. He said what I was experiencing is great (great?!) because it tells him I'm healing right on the appropriate timeline and experiencing the normal symptoms of proper healing. I'm glad they call this healing because I call this pain. My abs hurt. I feel like my gut is continually being confused for someones punching bag. The pain never lets up and is always sore, or pulling, or just plain hurting. But again, the results are there too so its short sighted of me to complain. My doctor said I will not regret getting myself repaired, I needed it, and in 6 months I'll be one happy clam. 6 months. That's how long it will take for all of the internal stitching to repair itself and dissolve. Sweet mother. Almost 2 months down, just 4 more to go. Wheeeee.

Did you know there isn't much you can do in a gym that doesn't involve your abs/core in some fashion?! I'm told exercise is awesome so long as it doesn't hurt. If it hurts, stop. If I continue by those rules, my gym membership card is going to begin collecting dust.

I know my weight is up right now through no one's fault but my own. I've indulged in foods lately that I hadn't had in months. I've drank beer on more than one occasion after having practically given it up for 7+ months. Hell, its summer. Beer & summer go hand-in-hand. I think there's actually a law about it. Tiffany?

I am beating myself up over a few lbs. Not 10, not 20 and not like this time a year ago, 50. It's just a couple. But I had been doing so well maintaining and then all hell suddenly broke loose with the bathroom scale. Today its back down a little and I assume by the end of this week/beginning of next I'll be back to what I consider acceptable. Once school starts again for the boys, Everly & I will no doubt get back into our gym routine. Along with regular exercise comes the motivation for better eating as well.

A few avenues of my life seem to be spinning out of control lately and I recognize how I naturally gravitate toward obsessing over the few things I can control, my weight being one of them. When even that seems beyond my grasp, I go crazy beating myself up. The reality is I really do see the ridiculousness of it all and know I simply need to love myself more, cut myself some slack and when all else fails, get over myself.

My problems are so small compared to others.
But there are just so many of them, all pelting me at once.
I talk about my weight because its just about all I'm willing to talk about lately.

I do feel blessed.
but also conflicted.
and depressed.

Yikes.

Mama ate bad this weekend.
Mama drank too much beer.

Mama stepped on the scale this morning.

Yikes.

I need to get my butt back to the gym (I'm typing while already in my workout clothes) and get back to my disciplined, regular exercise & great food choices.

I.WILL.NOT.LET.MYSELF.GO.
I.WILL.NOT.LET.MYSELF.GO.
I.WILL.NOT.LET.MYSELF.GO
EVER AGAIN.
EVER AGAIN.
EVER.

Mama said this to the that damn bathroom scale this morning:

thrift vs. vintage

Friends & I were on our way down to a local jazz festival street fair a few weekends back. We walked past a thrift store, now renamed a vintage store - I guess that sounds more en vogue & appealing?

Well en vogue this, my eyes fell upon a little beauty in the front window. Huge, wonderful and this little baby screamed MY NAME up and down with its magnificence.

Two things I love most in life, other than my family & friends, are trees and pumpkins. Keep creepy jack o' lanterns away from me but bring on the pumpkins. Long story as to how the pumpkin theme crept into my life but just know that I love them.

I said to Garth, "I've got to have it!" and despite his thoughts that I was staring at something quite awful, he appeased me by telling me to go in and see how much it was.

My eyes landed on its garage sale style handwritten colored round dot of a price tag.

$40.

Surely someone must have erroneously priced it. That's all?!

Jackpot.

Far too big to carry around a beer tent & jazz festival I told the woman it was mine and I would absolutely be back for it and I wasn't even going to dicker over the price. She laughed, said she was closing for the evening but assured me it'd still be there for me when I came back. Perhaps there's not a high demand for such loveliness but I can't understand why.

My friend Amy, who was with us, works just down the street from the vintage store and said she'd pick it up for me the following Monday.

A few days later Garth walked in the house carrying my new prize that he'd gotten from Amy. To know me is to understand I find this little all-4-seasons gem too awesome for words. I have no clue where it will ultimately hang in our home, Garth suggested somewhere out of the public eye: my office. No way! This thing should be displayed prominently and proudly! He begs to differ. I'm just happy he made sure my new treasure found its way right into my excited mitts. Someone surely was a fool to give up such awesomeness.

For size reference I use my curious fat cat.

If this thing doesn't scream ME, I don't know what does.

Say its rockin' sweet. I know you're thinking it....

fun, sun & fresh breezy air.

Sometimes you just need a little fresh air. I'm admittedly an indoors kind of girl. Air conditioning, low humidity, lack of bugs. Yup yup, I like it inside.

Yesterday I told the kids we'd go to the park in the morning. They asked if we could get McDonald's for lunch. How could I deprive them of such yummy tasting crap that leaves you with a belly ache when you're done?

The fresh air was just what this mama needed. The weather was perfect when paired with a sweatshirt although Evie insisted on shedding hers almost immediatly upon arriving. The park was nearly empty which I love. We visited all 4 of the different playground areas and then the kids played some imagination-based baseball on the field. After a few rounds of the bases, it was time to head to lunch.

Lunch is now over, photos are uploaded, my "stories" are done for the day (that's Young & The Restless, one of the very best shows in the universe) and its now officially nap time. Ahhh nap time, one of my favorite parts of the day. I think today I just might join them.

** note to the heavens: i really want a nicer camera.