organized chaos

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies within us while we live.

- Norman Cousins

I think this quote is appropriate today. Last Friday we saw on the news a report of a fatal car accident not too far from here, where one vehicle crossed the double line and crashed head on into another one. We heard both were from our town, which isn’t so small or so large, so I didn’t think we’d know who it was.

Three people in the vehicle that crossed over died. Two adults and a one year old.

In the other van, the mother and the 2 yr old died and a 5 yr old boy was sent to the hospital with two broken legs and is now home.

I know those details because yesterday at church the pastor announced that it was one of our families that suffered the loss from this tragic accident. I didn’t recognize the name. Although we’ve been there a couple years and it’s not too big a church, I still don’t know everyone’s names. I knew this family had at least 4 or 5 kids, so I started to deduct who it might be based on the fact that there aren’t a whole lot with that many children there.

Sitting in the service I looked over to where a certain family usually sat and it hit me that this was the one. I remembered the blonde woman who always lifted her hands in praise during the worship (we’re a church where most don’t for whatever reason). I remember her commenting on The Cuteness when I picked him up in the nursery, where she was gathering her little 2 yr old. I tried desperately to remember the little girl’s face as someone described it when I tried to confirm my suspicions on who this had happened to.

In the end, I was right. I didn’t know this woman or her family, but I had exchanged pleasantries with her only a couple weeks ago. I remember thinking how she must’ve loved the Lord to lift her hands to him in a church where that is rare, and to be willing to stand out in that way.

And though I didn’t know her, I grieve for her family left behind. She was driving to a sporting event when this happened. The news report said there was no sign of either vehicle trying to avoid the wreck. It must’ve been a split second happening, where no one had time to suspect anything.

It could have been me or any other mother taking a couple of kids somewhere. An everyday appointment. One that leaves the dad with other kids to raise and left to deal with the huge vaccuum of a mother gone.

I’ve experienced deep sorrow over this. I wish I had known her better, and it leaves such an imprint when it’s a little more personal than just another news story. I’m sure when her husband starts attending church again, it will weigh even heavier on my mind. And hopefully I will be reminded to make the most of everyday, to love my family and friends fervently, and to keep my eyes on God until it’s my time to go.

The Cuteness, 2 1/2 mths

couldn’t you just lick him?

Commando Demando

expert of weird neck angles

Jackelope is

Mean Superman

You know you’re tired when

you get up at 4 am to feed The Cuteness and you take the nipple off the bottle to warm the milk in the microwave, push the button for twenty seconds, open the door and balk at the fact that there’s nothing in the microwave. You’re so tired you’ve gone and left the bottle of milk on top of the microwave.

You know you’re tired when

you go to tell your cashier supervisor that some guy complained that the store never has 20 lb bags of Purina Adult Cat food or Citrus Aquafina, and he and his buddy behind him are cat rescuers and you believe him because they smell strangely of cat urine. And in the telling of this to the supervisor you get the giggles so bad you can’t wait on your next customer.

You know you’re tired when

your body hurts so bad from lack of sleep that even laughing at cat urine customers behind their backs makes your back scream with pain.

You know you’re tired when

you would actually prefer to sleep than listen and watch The Cuteness cooing and smiling bigger than warm sunshine.

Man, I’m glad this work thing is only three nights a week.

I’ve had a taker.  And if you’re a writer, in any capacity, you know if even one person wants to read more of what you’ve written, that’s all it takes.  Not including your own mother, of course. 

On a side note: True to my spazoid nature, I forgot to include the Preface before the intro on my last post of this series.  I’ll just include it here before chapter one.  Thanks for reading!  (more…)

As promised, I thought I would post some of my writing on here.  I thought about a chapter of my novel, but I really don’t want anyone stealing my idea. Not that it’s so original, but I like it.

So following the timeline that you can find on this post, here is the intro to the memoir I’m working on.  It is a third draft, so keep that in mind.  I may or may not keep posting this particular book, it just depends on if there’s anyone who wants to keep reading it.  That means you should probably leave a comment if you want more, or email me-address on the end of my sidebar.  So now you know the reason for this post’s title.  (more…)

That’s a funny title, right? As if I’ve had much leisure what with the arrival of The Cuteness and all.

I’ve been trying to grab some sleep all morning. How do I do that? Well, it’s a necessity now that my 12 week maternity leave is over and it’s back to the ol’ grind at Wal Mart three nights a week. While I don’t work the 10 pm-3am schedule anymore, I still work at night, (8-1:30) and with narcolepsy causing me to lose out on quality zzz’s and The Cuteness demanding milk at least once a night, I feel the need to bulk up on the sleep whenever I can get it. (more…)

Every once in a while I get disgusted with looking at the same thing around my house and I feel the urge to move stuff around. It usually doesn’t happen all at once, but builds over a few weeks and without any warning or planning I engage myself in a whirlwind of activity shuffling the couch, tv, bed, whatever to different spots.

I think because I’m primarily a right brained thinker, I can’t stand for something to be the same for too long. It bores me to tears. Plus, moving stuff around is a great time to vaccuum out all that dust I’d probably otherwise never get to. When I’m done, I feel refreshed, like I’d just been granted a new lease on life or something.

This may sound kooky, but I can trace this behavior way back to childhood. Moving my bedroom furniture around was one of my favorite things to do. Yes, my family shakes their heads at my inability to leave things alone. Except my gremlins. How I love them. They have taken after dear old mom, and LOVE it when I move stuff around. They request for their rooms to be shifted every few months also.

I don’t do it as often as I used to, especially during my recent pregnancy. That just about killed me to not move things around when I felt the urge.

So how long has your furniture been in the same place?

Little Jack Frost

by Kate Rusby

Here is a tale of the trees in a wood

They were never that pleased on the land that they stood,

So they upped and they walked on as far as they could,

‘Til they felt the sun shine on their branches

chorus

I was little boy lost and I was little boy blue,

I am little Jack Frost but I am warm through and through,

It’s not easy to hide when you’re heart’s on full view,

Oh tonight cruel world be forgiving,

Oh for once in my life I am living.

There they did stand, and there they did stay,

When there came a young boy who was running away,

From a mad world, a bad world, a world of decay,

And it’s comfort he sought in their branches

chorus

There he found love, and there he found joy,

And the warmth in his heart, oh it filled the young boy,

And his friends taught him magic and secrets of old,

While the trees kept him safe with their branches

chorus

This is a song that’s been stuck in my head since I heard it several months ago.  Kate Rusby wrote it for a BBC animation of The Tale of Jack Frost by David Melling.  When I started paying attention to the words, it really reminded me of my little Jackelope.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it online to link to it, but Kate’s website has a listening spot for some of her other songs, and it’s well worth one’s time to listen.

…And it certainly won’t be the last time- that I was wrong.

If you scroll down a bit, you’ll see the post from only yesterday where I lamented over Jackelope wanting to ride on two wheels vs. four, and how difficult and time consuming it would be.

This morning he shocked everyone.  Except for The Cuteness who is interested only in milk and naps.  We hadn’t been out for more than ten minutes when to my utter amazement Jackelope covered first a few feet, then a few more, then a whole length of sidewalk without falling.

It’s times like this I wish I had a digital camera where I could have captured the moment to post here.

bicycle: $65

helmet: $12

trip to the ER: $75

look on Jackelope’s face when he rode on two wheels without falling: Priceless. 

My Man came out this morning and announced, “New rule,” (he likes to make new rules for us every so often. I thought, “terrific, just what I need.”

He continued, “From now on, one sheet of toilet paper per visit.”

I just looked at him. Not because I think this is a stupid new rule, but because I wondered what the aliens did with My Man during the night. He is the consummate toilet paper user in this house. Let’s just say I was relieved when I finally found the 5000 sheet rolls at Dollar General for a little over two bucks for 4 rolls. We were breaking the bank over this issue.

Then he said, “At least that’s what Sheryl Crow says.” He told me about this:

In an unheard of celebrity tutorial on mindful Earth friendly tips, Crow suggests using “only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required”. Read the entire article here.

She looks a little stressed. As much as I’m tired of buying so much toilet paper, I was glad My Man wasn’t snatched by aliens after all.

I dread taking off the training wheels to the gremlin’s bikes.  Jackelope has been begging for the better part of a year for me to take his off.  He’ll be 6 in a couple of months, so you’re probably thinking, “Geez Lady, give that kid some freedom already!” 

In case you’re new to my blog, here’s some reminders why I’m hesitant to send Jackelope hot roddin’ on two wheels:  First there was the collision with the sidewalk

Then there was the collision with the hospital hallway floor, the day My Man came to take me and The Cuteness home.

Then there was the collision with the sidewalk railing at church on Easter.

You get the picture.  He’s very top heavy.  Cute, but top heavy. 

He’s taken to wearing an old helmet he found in the garage lately.  I think the gravity (get it) of the situation has taken hold of him and he’s taken some precaution. It took Commando Demando several months to get the hang of riding on two wheels.  It took Socrates a few weeks.  And I’m no good at the run behind the bike thing while the gremlin grasps the concept of balance.

I’m six feet tall and those bikes are very short.  I have to hunch over almost parallel to the sidewalk and try to run fast enough to give them a good feeling of balance, but not too fast, so I usually only manage this ugly trot as I gallop over the huge uneven-ness of our old, old sidewalk. 

Then there’s The Cuteness, who still need a fair amount of attention, so my hands-free time is miniscule.  What to do? 

I’m an advocate of independent learning and this is no exception.  But Jackelope has a very low frustration level and one can usually hear him breaking the sound barrier several times a day because of some injustice of natural law imposed on him.  I had hoped he would outgrow this loverly habit by his age, but no. 

So I told him this afternoon, after he pleaded his case once again, “Fine, I’ll take the training wheels off, but here’s the deal.  If you start screaming because you can’t do it, I’m taking your bike.”

Then I told him that exact same thing three more times because Commando Demando was presently whipping up and down the sidewalk at the speed of light, and I could tell he thought that would be him in about 4.5 minutes after I took those wheels off.

He gave it a good go.  Every so often I heard a murmur of a cry and I would ask, “You ok?”  To which he replied, “Yup. I think so.  I just keep scratching my wegs.”(translate: legs.)

This went on for an hour, till I had to go in and he proceeded practice in the back yard.  Then I heard the eardrum bustin’ scream.  I thought, well he lasted longer than I expected.  But when I went out, he was on the ground with his leg stuck under his bike. Ok, we’ll let that one slide.

Since he’s so big on counting days, such as “How many days have you been alive, Mom?”, I told him it will take more than one day to learn this skill.

But he said he wants it to only take one.  I can relate in so many ways.  He probably thinks if Kermit and Miss Piggy can ride bikes, and they’re not even real, why can’t he.

My Man and I had a little rift yesterday.  It was nothing new.  He was uptight about the state of the house and yard, and while I agree with what he said about the kids need to pick up their stuff, his path to get there may be a bit difficult.

If he had his way, this is what our house would look like:

This is his idea of “crisp”.  Not necessarily the style, mind you, but the cleanliness factor.  Who wouldn’t want to live in a house like this?  Or at least something that refreshes you when you walk through it?

Here’s something I should hang in my house:

I am a recovering perfectionist.  I struggle daily with the urge for everything to look perfect, to be in it’s place, ect.  What’s wrong with that you might ask?  It’s usually at the expense of my family.  I just can’t find a good stopping place or a good balance.  And I find it hard to relax when there’s a mess about.  So I stress my kids out and end up in a rotten mood.

My Man agrees that the gremlins should be trained in the cleaning of their own messes.  We just don’t agree on how fast that process will take place.  Therein lies our rift.

When he starts ranting, I hear, ”This house will look as close to perfection as possible.  I don’t blame you.  The gremlins need to learn to put their trash where it belongs.  I can’t be motivated to fix the house up if this doesn’t happen.”

I think: Geez, I thought I was trying to give up the perfection factor.  Doesn’t he know that my day is filled with, “pick that up.  Get down here and put this away.  Don’t leave that there.  Did you flush?  Get your army guys out of my bath tub.  How many cups have you used today?  Do you think I like doing dishes?”  And on and on and on and on.

What’s the answer to this.  I told God last night that I am so weary: mentally, spiritually, physically.  My arms and legs ache from lack of sleep every night with The Cuteness.  I’m starting work three nights a week next week again.  I think the gremlins are doing ok training wise for their ages.  But I’m at my breaking point as far as expectations go around here. 

I guess we’ll just have to see what this new day brings. 

Have you heard about this?

London, England (AHN) - Chairman of Virgin Group Sir Richard Branson said on Friday he would award $25 million as prize money for any scientist who can figure out how to remove greenhouse gases from the earth’s atmosphere - in other words provide a solution to global warming.

On 20/20 last night they mentioned that finding a solution to this would be the equivalent of removing something like 2 millions cars from the road. I think that number is right.

I’m not a scientist, although my man fancies himself one what with his looking at dead sea monkeys under our microscope and hoping to dig up our dead dog’s bones ten years after he dies to see what that’s like. But me, I’m a practical girl.

Why don’t we just remove the 2 million cars from the road and call it a day. It’s so simple, it’s genius.

My man and I are not fans of vehicles. For different reasons. He’s paranoid of accidents, and I’m paranoid of breaking down or getting a flat tire on the highway, or not having enough money for gas. Nothing really to do with greenhouse gases. In fact, I don’t really understand all this green talk.

But if you count all the rich people with more than two cars, or people who are driving to go shopping when they could buy stuff on the internet, we could really cut down on the driving.

**side note: occasionally people read this blog and don’t realize I say many things “tongue in cheek” For you: this is one of those times***

But I’m only partially kidding. What happened to public transportation? We live 30 miles from the largest city to do any real shopping or working. Hello! We could use a bus down here. But noooo, people like their cars too much. Americans and their freedom…

Maybe we should all just go back to horses. There’s another solution. Maybe then people would stay home with their families more and quit all this running and running. Hmm, stronger families, less stress, less gas in the air, eating healthier at home…

I’ll be watching the mailbox for my 25 mill.

Since we homeschool, we really depend on life to teach the gremlins some lessons in the place of traditional bookworks. Yesterday was no exception.

Yesterday Socrates learned how not to change a bike tire. We bought the tube the night before. After months of no bike riding, it was winter anyway, I finally got my keister over to the bike supplies and he paid for his own tube. The next morning, I made it a priority, after my java, to get that bike going. I stepped out onto the front porch with my long flat head screwdriver and proceeded to put the tube on the rim first and try to pry the tire onto it.

If you know anything about changing a tube or are having trouble picturing what I just described, suffice it to say, it’s one of the most stupid things I could have done. I tried to be extra careful not to puncture the new tube with the end of my screwdriver, but that last few inches of tire did not want to go on. Then when it did, the tube was still sticking out. So I poked it back in. With the screwdriver. DUH.

Not a big surprise that after loading all three gremlin’s bikes into the van, they all needed air don’t you know, and high tailed it up to the gas station with the free air, that the air swooshed right out of Socrates’ new tire like the air swooshes right out of my brain.

And to really make me feel smart, some old guy in his pick up, with nothing better to do than sit by the air pump and watch dumb blondes trying to fill holey bike tires, decided to banter with me over how I’ll have to watch the gremlins now that I’m getting their bikes going. No sir. I’ll be dropping them off by the highway to ride, just as soon as I’m done here.

Anyway, I had all four in the van already, and the energy it would take to go home, take the baby out, then load back up again at some other point in the day, not to mention the whining I would hear from Socrates over his wanting to ride his bike, was not worth it. So we buzzed up the street to pick up another tube.

After looking up the directions online, I got the new tube on in about 5 seconds. And the neighbor even let us use his air compressor to air it up.

Another lesson Socrates learned yesterday was that the passage of ten+ years makes commercials look really old.

I found my high school graduation tape from 1994 and we watched what little there was of it. After the ceremony, regular tv programming came on as if the ceremony had been taped over some obscure Sunday afternoon movie, complete with commercials. After watching a few of them, Socrates was wowed.

He said, “Commercials were weird back then.”

Me: “Commercials are still weird.”

He said, “That was thirteen years ago. Those are really old.”

Me: “Come on, they’re not that old.”

Him: “They look like they’re from way back when.”

And so do I right? Go ahead, say it. No, better not. It’s been a looong day.

Aren’t you thankful for spring?

“God’s voice thunders in marvelous ways;

he does great things beyond our understanding”

Job 37:5

If you read this post, then you might be interested to know that my brain, in fact, does not look like this:

Nor was this guy caught hanging out in there:

Nor did it resemble this: and threaten to ooze out of my ears, causing mayhem in the MRI chamber.

No, in fact, says the Dr., everything looks very normal, *snicker*, and we’re calling what happened a migraine variant. Read the link if you want, but basically it means a migraine with symptoms akin to a mini stroke, but it’s not a mini stroke. At least that’s all I can figure out from reading various information on the web. Maybe someone reading this has more info and would like to share…

So, if it happens again, I get to go to a neurologist. And otherwise, “we’ll” just observe it. Personally, if it happens again I will be majorly freaked out and probably be tempted to commit myself to Muppet Land where I probably belong anyway, because that was some freaky stuff.

Yesterday, our pastor gave a great sermon.  It shed so much light on where I am in my life right now spiritually.

Here’s the part that really got me: when Easter was over and Christ had risen from the grave, the disciples didn’t just sit around waiting for instructions from the Lord.  They got on with their lives.

I know. Duh.  But for me, this was affirmation that I’m doing the right thing.  I mean, it’s been awhile since I’ve felt inspired about anything. I’ve gotten out of the habit of being in the Word.  And I do need to do that.  But otherwise, I’ve just had a sense of just waiting.

The pastor said that inbetween those moments when God feels so close, “The Mountain Top” thing, you just go on living your life.  Day by day, being faithful. And God will make Himself known to you when the time comes.  And during those times of just living, you won’t feel particularly inspired or close to God.  That’s ok.

It’s not that I haven’t had these times before now.  I’ve had many.  But most of the time, they are despairing, depressing times where I just feel blah about everything.  Right now, I am fairly happy with my life, and my relationships.  I have a fair amount of daily stress with the gremlins behavior at times.  But I’ve had a hard time defining my relationship with God at this point in my life.  It’s not as close as I’d like, but not non-existent either.

So what’s the solution?  Just keep living your life.  God is still working.  He will enter when He wants to, and hopefully my eyes will be opened to see it and recognize Him.

I remember the first time, as an adult, I realized I was supposed to be a writer.  I’d read somewhere that people with the gift of writing are really good at the “What If” game.  You know, “What if I ran up the aisle during church during the sermon and started doing the chicken dance?”  And then they play the whole scenario out in their head.  Or they frequently hear voices. 

Like: “What if someone said, ‘blah, blah, blah,’ to me, and then I said, ‘yadda, yadda, yadda,’ to them.  And then they would say…” You get the idea.

What a relief it was to me that while that would still sound highly abnormal if I were to try to explain the stuff going on inside my head, it makes for great fiction writing.  And when I started doing that, writing fiction, I found something I actually loved the process of as much as the outcome. 

I usually don’t like processes.  At all.

So I’ll use this category to post snippets of my writing.  Since it’s just sitting in my hard drive collecting dust anyway. 

Here’s a timeline I plan on using in a non-fiction piece I’m working on called, “(Almost) Everything I Know I Learned In East Texas”

(more…)

I must be in the twilight zone.  Here in Kansas/The Twilight Zone, large chunky snow plummeted from the sky from about 5 pm until right now.  I think it’s still coming down.

My tiny little apple tree is bowing to the ground.  My medium sized bushes out front had just started to leaf out and are now spread out downward.

At 8 pm it was still light outside and snowing heavily.  That’s like summer time light, being so late and all.  Then to look outside and see snow, snow, snow.  I feel like I could step outside and it would actually be sugar falling.  MMMM, warm sugar. 

The gremlins, who I haven’t been able to get a toe outside all week, of course rushed out there like little roadrunners as soon as the flakes started to fall.  That is, until it started to thunder and lightning right in the middle of the SNOWSTORM!

Spring, where art thou?