On the Surface

I sat in one of those tiny patient rooms at the doctor's office today, and sat, and sat, and sat. So I had all this free time on my hands to think, with no magazine or book in hand. You know how when you have too much time to think that you sort of overdo it, just a bit? I started imagining that the doctor comes in and questions why I wanted this cyst removed from my arm. Does it cause me physical discomfort? No. Does it bother me? Hell yeah. In a very vain sort of way. I hate it. It's ugly and embarrassing. And so I imagined the doctor was going to object to removing it, wherein my pleading would begin. Look Doc, I have plenty of other skin imperfections that I'm self-conscious about and can't change, so you will take my money and remove this cyst TODAY.

Turns out I didn't need to plead or argue, but was still given plenty of time to think about the superficial things that bother me about me. I used to be able to say that there was one part of my body that I thought was okay - my legs. I've always had these long, thin legs and probably always will. But over the past few years I've become quite the spotted freak with what I like to call freckles, but what my gynecologist sort of implied were age spots. OMG. That was hard to swallow. And the only thing I know to do to somewhat diminish them? Get really tan. Not a great alternative.

And then I have the worst stretch marks ever, and have for the past 19 years. I try to embrace the scars as proof of bringing my daughters into this world. But no matter how much I love the girls, it doesn't lessen the sting when I look in the mirror.

I'm also starting to see a little age in my face and neck. Now truly, I am trying to embrace my age. I've earned it, right? I don't mind a few little lines here and there, but that doesn't stop me from applying wrinkle creams and moisturizer every day.

I don't want to be this vain. I don't think it's been very healthy for my daughters to hear me complaining about my body over the years either. I hope they are very happy with themselves, inside and out.

Anyway, back to my doctor's appointment. I've been elated for three weeks knowing I was able to get in to this particular surgeon to have the cyst removed, and I seriously had to work hard to stop smiling during the whole two-hour appointment. All in the name of vanity. So maybe it was supposed to be a reality-check when the doctor told me it was a good thing I came in. The cyst looked "peculiar" he said and needed to come out. It's probably fine, and I'm not worried in the least, but wouldn't that just be a kick in the pants? :-)

Why Puppies Are Awesome

They like to cuddle.

They're kind of like babies only better because there are no diapers, no painfully long crying spells...I could go on and on.

You can sneak them into stores in your purse if you are so inclined.

They relieve stress.

I've yet to see an ugly puppy. Ugly dogs, yes. But no ugly puppies.

(Here is where I would insert a picture of maybe the cutest puppy ever. That would be Addison's puppy, Betsey, who we've been babysitting all weekend and spoiling rotten. But my camera cord is destroyed and I therefore have pictures in limbo.)

You get so lost in their cuteness that you forget about other stuff.

And lastly, PUPPY BREATH!

Little Things

We saw some really "big" things in D.C., both literally and figuratively. But there were some little things we really enjoyed:

The coffee shop. We walked to Caribou Coffee every morning for the most awesome oatmeal, muffins, and coffee (or for Alan that would be hot chocolate). I'm going to miss that oatmeal and will be trying to recreate it at home.

The Metro. Oh my gosh - how fun to zip around the city on a subway! We didn't rent a car and relied completely on public transit or our feet. And we never took a cab - it was either the metro, a bus, or a shuttle. Everyone was so nice helping us find our way around. Maybe it was the beautiful weather affecting people, but they were really very friendly and approachable. As far as using our feet for transportation, by the end of the third day we were having a lot of trouble standing or walking for very long without looking for the nearest bench. Ouch. It made the metro even more awesome.

The food. It wasn't so much that the food was just good, it was that it was different. We don't have different here in Midland. We have American, Mexican, and some Asian. It's just fun to try new things, like the awesome mussels at Tony and Joe's or this platter of calimari.

Standing where they stood. It amazed me to be in the Capitol, particularly in the old House chamber, where Lincoln (among many others) also stood, worked, debated, argued. That's not a picture of the chamber but is the inside of the dome. I actually thought the painting in the center was kind of silly. It shows George Washington as he's ascending into Heaven.

The "quiet" at Arlington Cemetery. You were expected to be quiet and respectful, and in doing so made it all the more somber and humbling.

The diversity. Another thing I like about big cities is that the diverse population is also an educated population. Not something we have a lot of around here. Umm...I don't have a picture to go with that.

Anyway, I could go on and on about how wonderful the trip was. I hope it doesn't come across as being boastful, but rather hope I'm conveying how excited I was to be there and how appreciative I am of Alan for such a wonderful surprise.

Wow.

I'm going to be standing at the foot of this in a few short days. What pretty much no one knows about me is that I have this really corny, patriotic side. I'm that person that loves the National Anthem and enjoys saying the pledge at school. So this trip is definitely a bucket list type of thing.

Goodbye, Winter. I will not miss you and will not return your calls.

I love, love spring. I know it's not an original thought, but man there is nothing like playing with soil and plants to lift someone's spirits. (Notice I said plants, not weeds.) If the plants survive, these pots should be overflowing by summer and dangling low enough for Duke to destroy them. At which point I'll have to move them out to the front porch, but I'm okay with that.

These are the petunias I planted this winter, which the nursery told me wouldn't do well in the shady areas of my porch. It appears they were mistaken. Wait, are these pansies or petunias? I can never keep them straight. I think they're petunias. Help me, Elizabeth. Anyway, they've done fine with very little sun and a gardener who forgets to water them.

And above is Alan and Leigh working on the new side gate and fence to replace this one:

Pretty amazing that Duke hasn't figured out he could just breathe hard on the gate to find freedom. I think it means he likes it here and has no interest in leaving.

So I'm basically in a pretty good mood today, and that is pretty darn cool.

Guessing this isn't what God had in mind.

I'm well aware that I'm not doing Lent correctly. I gave up three things for these forty days, or isn't it really 46 including Sundays? Anyway, I gave up chips of any kind, french fries, and snacking after dinner. Notice a trend here? I'm giving up things that I shouldn't be eating anyway and by giving up will possibly benefit me with a couple of lost pounds. It's all me, me, me. And then I happened upon this religious/educational show one morning early that reminded me of how poorly I'm going about this.

Today's participants usually do one or all of three things: 1) give something up, 2) add something positive (prayer perhaps), and 3) almsgiving. I didn't know what almsgiving was exactly, which is quite telling of my charitable nature.

So I've got two out of three in the works, but that third one's not my specialty. Does it have to be charitable towards people? Because I'd really rather go volunteer at the SPCA. Uh-oh...there's goes that "me" business again.

I'm not having trouble with the first one, so I think that defeats the purpose. The second one - well I am praying a whole lot more, but since I have REALLY MAJOR issues and CONFUSION around how prayer works...well let's just say I don't think my heart is in it the way it should be. I have never, ever been able to reconcile prayer in an acceptable, meaningful manner. Here's what I've recently decided due to life's events: do not pray for action, healing, guidance. Rather, pray for forgiveness, thanksgiving, and simply to talk to and therefore have a relationship with God.

That's where I'm at in my journey through Lent. I'm trying.

And since I gave up blogging for so long that now no one really looks at this, I realize I'm pretty much talking to myself. And that's okay right now. I just need to talk.

Inconsequential

Ever feel that way? It's a given to feel that way in the grand scheme of things, to feel unneeded like a speck of sand in this big ole' universe. No big deal. It's quite another to feel that way in the eyes of someone you care about. I wonder how many times I've made someone feel inconsequential. A friend, a loved one, a student. I know I've done it, and that's sad. I need to work harder to make people feel important. Because there's that little thing called karma.

A Christmas Memory

I'm stealing this idea from Elizabeth, because her latest post reminded me of one of my favorite childhood memories of Christmas. When we were little enough to still believe in Santa Claus, our parents had a tradition that I've never heard anyone else mention.

On Christmas Eve, after it got dark, one of my parents would take me and DeeBee for a ride around town to look for Rudolph's red nose in the sky. No matter how cold it was, we'd roll the car windows down to listen for the sleigh bells and peer into the sky to find that glowing nose. No telling how many times we'd see a tower with a red twinkling light at the top and mistake it for Rudolph. But we weren't fooled by that - we were out to find the real thing. The adventure was always fun of course, but usually unsuccessful. Except for that one year.

I must have been about 5 or 6 years old, making DeeBee around 7 or 8. I remember that we weren't too far from the house when I looked up and saw a red light descending towards our house! I recall yelling, "Daddy, there it is! It's going to our house! Hurry and get back home!" I also remember Daddy smiling and chuckling and doing whatever he could to delay getting back to the house. (While one parent was driving the kids around, the other was home putting out the Christmas gifts that Santa "dropped off.") I didn't understand this until years later, so I was pretty frustrated that he didn't rush back to the house. When we finally returned home, my mother was there saying "Oh, you just missed Santa!" It was so real and pretty darn magical!

I was so certain of what I saw, that when I tell kids about it today, I don't feel I'm lying. My six-year old eyes saw what they saw. What an awesome memory and creative tradition my parents gave us!

LiMINTless

Back in April, Stride Gum promoted a contest to rename their mint-flavored gum. The grand prize winner was to receive $10,000 and a year's supply of Stride gum with the new name on the package. Stride later closed the voting and ended the contest claiming a "technical glitch." Instead of allowing online voting to take place, they just randomly selected five entries and gave them each $25,000.

Addison entered with the name "LiMINTless." Stride sent her a box of gum with her entry name on it and an apology letter. At the very least, she has a lot of gum and a funny story. :-)

"Wild" Morning

We're having a rough go of it lately with our pets. Just looking out the backdoor window, I see two handsaws dragged out into the yard, a plastic container of what was probably fertilizer or weed killer (some kind of poison, I'm sure), and the water hose wrapped 4 times around the tree. The rest of the hose is in bite-size pieces throughout the yard. And that's Duke's handiwork just TODAY.

I don't think he made a good impression while Leigh, my father-in-law, was visiting either. Leigh was staying in the guest house out back, the little house with a door that doesn't always stay closed during a strong wind storm. Duke discovered that if he ran full speed towards the door, he could easily knock it open. And open it he did, and took it upon himself to drag many of my father-in-law's belongings out into the yard. Not all of the items survived, if you know what I mean.

And then there's the latest episode with Junior, that I'm still a little shocked by. Everyone knows he's mean and bites and stalks and attacks one or all of us every single day. I woke up this morning and turned on the TV to just lay in bed for a while. Junior walked up wanting to be petted, which I obliged KNOWING I shouldn't. I don't let him do this, but for some reason this morning I decided to be generous. I only petted him a few seconds before realizing I should just push him off, so I raised my hand to push him away...and in a split second he attacked me, biting my face in three places. It was so sudden I didn't have time to get him off of me quickly enough.

Once I did though, well...let's just say I got him to leave the room. The mirror revealed 6 punctures and enough blood to piss me off a little more. I felt pretty stupid letting him come near me like that, so I don't blame the cat. I still make the claim that he's a feral cat, and that we'll basically be living with a semi-wild animal under our roof until something "unfortunate" happens. Okay, I'm just kidding with that little bit of sarcasm...I'm not going to do anything to him. And I'm not scared of my cat at all, just still reeling from what happened this morning. Mostly I think it pissed me off because I'm vain, and I had to go to school looking like I had a major breakout. I thought about taking a picture and posting it, but like I said - I'm vain.

Anyway, what do you do? I know if I had a small child and the cat did this to him/her, I'd probably feel obligated to get rid of it. I think what bothers me is that we're taking care of an animal that no one else would have, and it's just kind of weird when they turn on you. So add one more story to the list of Junior stories. I sure hope Duke never bites my face, because I'm likely to lose half of it if he does.

The End!

Not really. Or maybe it is. I just can't think of a good reason to keep up this blog. The culprit is definitely Facebook. I'm on there everyday keeping up to date with what's going on in everyone's lives, and likewise posting updates about mine, that I'm not seeing a use for this blog anymore. So...

I got nothing!

Boo

I'm pretty sure I could have paid half of what these cost me to make, had I just opted for store-bought decorations. I'm hoping once I finish stringing the lights underneath, they'll look cute for Halloween. Right now, I'm not so sure...

Marathon #2

Alan ran in his second marathon yesterday, the West Texas Crossroads Marathon in Odessa. He beat his 4 hour goal with a time of 3:39:07. But you know with Alan there's always a story...something always happens.

A little background...we're sitting on the sidelines yesterday (me, Naomi, Addison and Austen) waiting for Alan's finish, when we see this runner coming with a police SUV tailing right behind him. As he gets closer to the finish line, he sort of stops and grabs at his leg, so we think he's really having trouble with cramps. But he keeps on and actually speeds up and hauls butt across the finish. As he passes us, we notice his shoulder blade on one side is red and really scraped up. It looked like he may have been bleeding. He crosses the line and practically collapses into the arms of a couple people.

So just a couple minutes later here comes Alan, and as soon as he finishes and sits down he says, "have I got a story for you." Turns out, when Alan was at about mile 22, he's trucking along and hears this loud "whomp!" behind him. He turns around to see a guy rolling on top of the hood of a car, falling off, and rolling on the ground. This guy gets up and keeps on going. The funny part of the story is how Alan, although truly sorry for the poor guy who got hit by a car, is PISSED that he then got passed by this guy!

But all in all it was a good morning and fun to be there. Thanks to Addison (it was her birthday yesterday!) and Austen who came out to cheer Alan on:



Wow, check out that gorgeous West Texas scenery!

Domestic Violence

Every bite Junior gets from another animal he fully deserves, I'm sure. But what he doesn't know is that those bites are expensive. The last time he was bitten ended in a $250 vet visit by the time all was said and done. For most pets, it probably would have been a third that much. But with Junior, it requires sedation due to his "demeanor." To translate, that means he's an asshole.

So this time we're a little wiser. Alan called the vet and explained what was going on. They remember Junior. They were more than happy to provide us with all the medications we'd need to take care of the problem AT HOME. So here we go again - oral meds twice a day to a cat who aspires to stalk, attack, and draw blood on his victims (that would be us) about every other day. On top of that, we get to insert ointment into his abscessed wound. Good times!

And regardless of the fighting and hissing and dodging of razor sharp fangs, we'll do whatever it takes to keep him around. I love my Junior Lou.

Please don't see me, please don't see me!

Poor Junior. Sometimes he just needs to get away.

Puppy adventures

Every day Duke finds something new to play with (destroy), and today was no exception. We don't know where the ads came from, but leave it to Duke to find something that will make a huge mess. He had some fun with the water hose and sprinkler, too.



His inside manners have been really atrocious, especially when someone comes over. But we recently discovered the training tool that gets him to stop jumping, biting, and barking without having to lay a hand on him - a spray bottle! It works wonders, and I don't have to feel bad. Even with all the messes, he's been an awesome puppy and such a sweet companion. And just look at that face.

Morning Glory

Once again this crazy vine grew up through the rotted out seat of this old chair. It's thicker this year and seems to take the shape of the chair. I wish I was a good enough gardener to plan something like this! And it's the only plant Duke hasn't dug up.

Serenity now, serenity now

Earlier this morning I spent a half hour ranting and raving about the "disappearance" of one of my new shirts. I woke up Bailey and rooted through her room and closet, assuming she tried it on and then threw it on the floor or stuffed it in a drawer (which occasionally happens). I silently accused Alan of taking it to the cleaners by mistake with his clothes (thankfully he wasn't here or I would have questioned him). I considered maybe the dog took it, or that someone snuck in the garage and stole some clothes, or that it fell behind the washer and dryer. I mean, how do you lose a shirt? A sock, yes. A shirt, no.

I looked EVERYWHERE. Three times. During this time I had been doing laundry and had carefully checked the load of clothes that I put in the washer. Still nothing. I looked some more, and all the while I am absolutely fuming. You see, this has happened before - sometime last year right after buying some new clothes for school, I lost a shirt. I liked that shirt so much that I went back to the store and bought another one. And here I was again, the shirt I liked the most was missing.

So as I'm considering getting dressed and going to Target to buy the shirt again (I really liked this shirt - Bailey said it made my boobs look big!), I notice the washer has stopped and decide to check that load again. I take the load out piece by piece to place in the dryer, and there it is - in the washer. How I missed it the three previous times I looked through the clothes, is a mystery. Or is it? Sometimes you just gotta wonder if someone's trying to tell you something.

Something like, "CALM THE HELL DOWN!"

Trying so hard to be good...

Nicknames

We have pet names, for our pets. Lots of names. Does that make us obsessed with our pets, or does everyone do this? Please say someone else does this.

For Junior:

Junior Lou
Mr. Lou
Mister
Satan
Big Sweet Kitty
Tubby
and when I'm tired of being attacked, Whorebag

Duke's only been with us a few short weeks and has already accumulated quite a few:

Dukester
Dukie
Dukies
Duuuuuuuuke
Duke-a-licious
Retard

It's probably good they don't know what we're saying.