Wednesday, September 26, 2012

One really good, productive day.

This is what I mumbled to myself as I drifted off to slumber land last night, all I need is one really good productive day.

One really good productive day and I could get my windows cleaned.
One really good productive day and I could deep clean the bathrooms.
One really good productive day and I could whip this house into shape.
One really good productive day and I could get my yard ready for fall.
(who has two thumbs and said a silent prayer of thanks for the frost that finally
 killed latest and greatest source of guilt--the garden?  THIS GIRL!!)
One really good productive day and I could change my decor to match the season.
One really good productive day and I could organsize many a space.
One really good productive day could change my world...
or so it would seem.

Hmmm, now to find the time and more importantly the motivation to make it all happen.

Step one:
Don't blog while waiting for the brownies you promised the YW you'd bring to volleyball tonight to bake.
Clean instead.  Duh.  That's a no brainer.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012


Mr. Grant D goes to school two days a week, all day.  On his days off he likes to spend as much time as possible in a tractor/farm implement of any description.
This morning shortly after the kids left for school he was ready to jump on his bike and head down to Grandma's to see what farm work needed to be done today.
I stopped him and asked him if he thought I should just keep him here with me so I wouldn't miss him too much while he was gone.

He said, "How about I give you a hug and then why don't you just take a picture of me and you can look at it if you get lonely."
Smart kid, so that's what we did.

With my mad baking skills I have won over many a child's heart,
but dang-it-all I cannot compete with Grandpa's farm!
Not in this kid's eyes at any rate.

Friday, September 14, 2012

New shoes?

Are there really women out there who go to work for a new pair of shoes??
....for themselves none the less???
Someone said this to me a few weeks before I started my job.
She said, and I quote, "Ohhh...a lunch lady, won't that be nice?  Extra money's always can get stuff for yourself, you could buy your self a new pair of shoes."
To be fair I should say that this lady probably didn't know what else to say to me, nor was she the first person to say this sort of thing to me.

Bare in mind this is not the first time I've brought in another source of income for our family.  My jobs have not been glamorous: cleaning houses, babysitting, web writing (okay so that doesn't have the same negative connotation) and lunch lady.
Not exactly fancy shmancy.
Never have I done it for a new pair of shoes.  That's ridiculous.

I've lived in the trenches, People.  I was in baby/toddler world for a long time.  I remember the days of multiple diaper changing, peed in pants, poopy undies, babies needing to be fed, burped, cuddled and snuggled.  I remember the snack fixing the crying, whining, fighting, and fussing.  I remember the bedtime 'thank the Heavens above I made it through another day' nightly sigh of relief.

I dare you to find me a mother that hasn't thought to herself in the midst of all this fantastic mothering,
"One day they will all be in school. One day all of these fabulous little people I have birthed from my body and by the sweat of my brow have loved and cared for every day will all be in school and I will no longer need to sneak a cookie, lock myself in the closet, gobble it down and then take 10 deep breathes before facing the natives."

Now, I suppose I can't speak for everyone--but as for me--I did not finish up that thought with "...and then I will leave my house and get a job."  Hello?  I'm like the poster child for the Suzie Homemaker Club. 
The grand idea was to actually be alone.
At home.

Don't get me wrong, I still love my job.  I actually haven't hated any of the jobs I have done.  Okay, okay I kind of had a while when I pretty much hated doing day care, but for the most part I try to enjoy what ever I am doing.
You know, capre diem and all that crap.

I'm just saying, let's all try not to say stupid things.
I know, it happens to the best of us....

And here I am still doing everything I do for the little punks I raised from pups...I remember reading something about "Mother ducks pick feathers from their chests to line their nest".  Did you catch that?  "Mother ducks pick feathers from their chest to line their nest".  Did you know that?  Those mother ducks don't go picking up the strings and scraps where ever they can find them, they give their babies the very best they can.  I'm sure it hurts a little sometimes plucking out the best, softest feathers they have...but they do it any way. 
And so do I.
Here's to my punk duckies, I offer you the very best of me.

i'm fully aware my posts
are seeming somewhat random,
even for me.
and that's saying something.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

I am strong. I am courageous.

I am strong.  I am courageous.
Say it with me now:  I am strong. I am courageous.
I am full of strength and courage.
Strength is my weapon, courage my shield.

I know this is a weird post, but just trust me on this one.
And FYI in case you were wondering...
I can indeed do hard things.

That's all.
Peace out.

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Peeks last week...need this for noncommentors. Lame. commenting is cool.