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July 06, 2010

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Before you leave…

Our entryway set-up is great! Now I never forget my hat, burlap satchel, or life preserver!

I wish...

Woven from carbon fiber sailcloth, the same material used in racing yacht sails, this is the wallet that withstands a gale force wind or the torrents of a dishwasher. The wallet's carbon fiber threads are 5X stronger than steel, yet 80% lighter, and are encased in a flexible resin that's impervious to water....

I wish someone would have told me that I was supposed to be throwing my wallet in with the pots and pans or flying it from the mast of my yacht.

I wish even more that someone would explain to me why my wallet needs to be able withstand "gale force winds".

PS--Obviously I am not the only one to tilt my head in wonder at this wallet in the dishwasher phenomenon--between the time that I put this in my blog folder for a future post and today--they changed the ad to this:

The Indestructible Wallet.

This is the wallet that's 5X stronger than steel, yet 80% lighter. Woven from carbon fiber, the same durable material used in racing yacht sails, the resilient wallet will never stretch, fade, or develop cracks like a leather billfold. The carbon fiber threads are encased in a flexible resin that's impervious to water and the wallet is sewn using triple-step zigzag stitching to provide additional strength at the seams and prevent unraveling. Despite its uncompromised strength, that wallet has a 1/4"-thin, pliable construction that ensures comfortable storage in a pocket. The wallet has a full-size bill pocket and six credit card slots. 4 3/4" L x 3 1/2" W x 1/4" H. (1 1/4 oz.)

And you thought you needed to take a

consumer ed class to learn this kind of

cool stuff...........

I know who is on first and what is on second….I just don’t know why…

(I have been working on this post on and off for months—just couldn’t seem to get it right enough to post. But decided to finish it up and just DO IT. If nothing else it will provide a little insight into one of the reasons why I am such a sporadic and spastic blogger. WARNING--This is a very long,rambling, therapeutic for the writer, only partially funny-- kind of post and there are no pictures. Proceed at your own peril…)

Hi, I'm Lisa and I'm clinically depressed and occasionally do the cha-cha with that bad boy Mr. Bi-Polar, and I've been chemically balanced (or some version thereof) for 15 years.

"Hi, Lisa"

I'm a member of AA (Attitude not alcohol--sheesh) , AAA, and Citizens for a More Chemically Balanced Future or CFACBF for short. {bless you}

Which taken all together, (the information, not the medication, okay—maybe the medication too) makes me a blast to have around at parties but not so much on a day to day basis.

I hear voices in my head all the time. Not the scary, change your personality, sounds like "Gollum", Sally Fields, kill the messenger kind of voices.

More of just the me, myself and I version.

Myself & I tend to fight and argue with one other which only serves to frighten and confuse me. Me thinks that the recriminations should be shared but really I has only myself to blame. On the up side, I is never lonely and myself always has second opinion for me. On the down side, they never seem to invite common sense to join us and motivation threw up it's hands and left a long time ago. Also, I has had to learn the hard way, that only myself can hear me and vice versa. I has also had to learn that when someone says, "Talk amongst yourselves" that just sitting there is unacceptable--I must turn to another human being and say something out loud. And just because someone says, "Be quiet so I can hear myself think", it does not necessarily mean that they are a kindred spirit who can also "hear" the voices. Furthermore, I would like to speak to the religious issue (we are a member of The LDS Church) of "listening to the still small voice". Seriously, people, you need to be a LITTLE more specific.

I am blogging about this for several reasons:

1. I don't want there to be any confusion about who I am. (Obviously there is enough confusion bouncing around in my head already) Mental illness is as real as diabetes or the common cold, and it affects millions of people. (except I don’t think the guy with the cold has nearly as much fun going on in his head as I do.) And I am ever so tired of people telling me that “You are about as happy as you make your mind up to be”. Do you tell someone with diabetes that they are about as insulin resistant as they make their mind up to be??!! Seriously people. On good days, happiness IS a choice but when I swing on over to the “dark side” and the chemicals in my brain are bouncing between every neuron but the ones they are supposed to, I can’t even remember what happiness ever felt like and even if I could remember—I am certain that I have never done anything in my life that would make me worthy to be happy. The “dark side” feels like I have a ton of bricks on my chest and an emptiness in my soul that will never be filled. In that dark place I can remember every stupid/wrong thing I have ever done but not what it felt like the last time I touched joy.

(An aside about medication. Everyone has an opinion. Blah, blah, blah. I have one too—but only about how it works for me. The meds do tend to make me feel “muted”. But since I am no Beethoven or Van Gough with great talent to suppress—I am okay with that. It took me awhile to mentally adjust to living life in the middle lane. The massive mood swings were my “normal”. Some days I miss the “highs” but not one day have I ever missed them bad enough to take the chance of swinging that low again.)

2.I have just recently come to grips with the fact that....

THIS. IS. IT.

It's not going to get better. There will always be days that my heart, mind and soul are so irrationally saturated with despair that the only reason I get out of bed and function through the day is because of my children. Those are the days that I mentally duel with that most ugly and oily of voices that alternately screams and whispers that I should just give up--that my children would just be better off without my presence here on earth.

BUT.......
THANKFULLY.....

Just as irrationally, relief comes and the darkness and all its minions slink away and my heart, mind and soul welcome the light again.

They (the doctors, not the minions) made me a lovely cocktail of medication and told me to just hang in there and hope for the day it would end.

And so I hoped. Each time I got knocked down, I got up again and hoped that was the last time. I prayed for hope and looked and watched for reasons to hope. I changed doctors, I changed medications.

Then about 5 years ago, I just stopped getting back up. It seemed like it would just save time and effort to stay down. What kind of idiot keeps running into the ocean when someone says, "Hurricane's coming"?!

There was obviously something inherently wrong with me. Something that disqualified me for any kind of deliverance or redemption. Acceptance of the obvious seemed so reasonable, so much more peaceful.

I still functioned in my daily life but the phrase- living quiet lives of desperation- began to have a new, deeper meaning. But instead of finding greater peace, all I found was cynicism and increased pain. I was without direction, unsettled.

Recently, I have found myself (for no apparent reason) feeling like, once again, I am exiting this dark tunnel of hopelessness. My meds have not changed nor have my prayers. I am filled with warmth every time that I consider that this might just be a “tender mercy”. A reprieve of sorts. I do not think my road will ever be free of tunnels but I do think I am achieving a greater ability to enjoy all aspects of my journey.

So, to my future descendants, those who have, unfortunately, been called to carry on my genes-- I will leave this page in my journal for you.

Always get back up! This battle will never be won from a horizontal position. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt (which is sometimes a little tricky when my brain is swinging wide) that your mortal body might be broken but your spirit is not. Some days you may only, just barely, remember which way is up. Pull yourself up, keep heading in a general “up” direction, up is the ticket. I pray that my belief in the hereafter will be proved correct and I will be able to whisper in your ear and be that push that lifts you up in your darker moments.

Words on paper do not seem to carry enough weight to put power behind my words so take a moment and write them on your heart—so you can carry them with you and know that you are loved.

Even Noah had his critter limits……

First of all—for those of you who loathe silly, sentimental critter posts—flee NOW! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Second of all, we have a new member of our household, or ark, whichever you prefer. In order to understand the ark reference you would probably need to have read or read this post about my secret life. Go ahead, click on it…I’ll wait. {whistling}

So now that we are cruising on my ark together, I would like to introduce you to Obi (as in Obi Wan Holy Kanoli that's a big dog!!)

He is a Bull Mastiff and he is HUGE, COLOSSAL, ENORMOUS, GIANT and the sweetest tempered dog I have ever had the occasion to meet. So polite and calm.

Having said that—I did NOT need another critter. As a matter of fact, I had just been reasonably successful at establishing the fact that we were done acquiring critters of ANY kind. Yeah, my family laughed at my delusions too. {deep sigh}}}}

Obi (I am not really sure how it is spelled or if that is his whole name) came to us by way of my husband’s nephew, who lives in Nevada. Just a hop, skip and a jump, really. They had a really good reason for needing to find him a new home, I was just a little confused as to why we were the best option. Then I remembered that one of my husband’s biggest priorities in life is family and that its one of the biggest reasons I love him. In his mind there is always room for 1 more, be it human or critter---so----a new dog it was. And let me tell you, Mr. Obi vonLARGE was not nearly as big in that picture they sent me on my cell phone. Talk about things being larger than they appear…….

He has settled in nicely and I’ll admit that I am smitten. He and my son have become inseparable. Best friends and comrades in arms. We have had dogs ever since he was born but he never connected with them like he does with Obi.

My nephew wanted an update and some pics so here is my “Ode to Obi”. Not that I have the first clue about “oding”…….

So far Obi and Milan’s favorite game is “Hide and Run Like Heck to the Tramp Before Obi Knocks You Down”.

Those ears are killing me. (the dog’s, not my son’s) I have taken a million gratuitous Obi ear shots. I just can’t help myself …and the eyebrows—do you see that??!! He can so nail the one eyebrow!!

But then there is the tongue and slobber issue---I’m still trying to find my chi on that issue…..eeewwwwww..

But then there is this….

And just in case you still can’t understand my new infatuation….I will leave you with this-----amen.

Wherein I boost your “Mother’s Day/Human Being” self esteem to infinity and beyond…..

This is a re-post from last year. I thought this was a particularly fine piece of journalism {{{snort}}} so thought I would post it real quick before Mothers Day was over. Hope all the women who pass by this blog have had themselves a great day!

Mothers Day.

I’m sure that the original intent of those who created this holiday were pure.

Forcing children everywhere to honor their mother or carry the guilt forever—that is pure is it not?

Obviously, my Mother and I are still working out our relationship but I have been blessed to have 5 children call me Mom (to be honest—some days they say it like MU-THERRR) and I have friends who are from both camps. Some love being a Mom, or celebrate their own Mom or look forward with joy to when they will become a Mom. Others DREAD the day. Some because of their not so flowers and a nice card relationship with their Mom or the struggle to believe they will ever have a chance to be a Mother or they feel they have failed miserably at being a Mother .

I will leave the psychosis of all this to more qualified folks. The intent of my blog today is to boost your “Mothering/human being” self worth through the utter lack of my “Mothering/human being” skillz--- with the visual records I have kept. I’m sure I should probably address the -- what kind of Mother does or allows these “things” to happen to her children and then takes photos and shares them on her blog question that will plague you as you scroll through these photos.

But……….I got nothin’.

Just remember that no matter which government agency you call to report me too—they will never find me here in my garage, in the woods, in the middle of nowhere Montana.

Exhibit A:

By all means perch the baby on the top of that fence overlooking that giant ravine. I know she was dying for that up close and personal view. Quick, let me record the moment with my camera.

Exhibit B:

Too be fair—this was taken by my husband. I didn’t know about it till I went and picked up the pictures from our vacation. Bad mother award for thinking I could allow her father to watch her without my supervision.

Exhibit C:

This is what happens when your Mother has to say “Stop fighting!” 562 times. {Why yes, those are teenage mutant ninja turtles on the ends of those horns, thank you for asking.}

Exhibit D:

I force teach my children to work hard. I have found that it works best to have them out into the workforce while they are still in diapers. Then they just don’t ever remember it being any different.

Exhibit E:

My girls inform me that putting them in these beautiful, ruffle-lace explosion get ups was pretty much a crime against all mother nature. Wha? Just wait till they become Mothers and experience the “thrill of the frill”. It’s hypnotic I tell you! Also, I would like to point out that silver tooth jutting out there in front. Example #298 of my attentive parenting.

Exhibit F:

Ah, the classic—always dress your child in Halloween costumes that they hate- and don’t forget to capture the “I hate you” on camera. All the good mother points you may have earned for making the costume, go right out the window. Good memories.

Exhibit G:

This is an example of what I like to refer to as….Courageous Mothering. [I’m not the least bit interested in what you think it is.] In case you can’t see them, this child has the chicken pox. Then the poor dear fell off a swing and broke her little arm. I felt so bad for her that I went out and bought her some roller blades. And because I am that safety aware, I threw in the helmet and pads too. Safety first. Always.

And it wouldn’t be a Mothers Day tribute without….

Exhibit H:

This could be entitled, “Redneck Playground”. What I wanted to point out though, was my stellar abilities of caring not only for my children, but my friends also. Only one of these hooligans is mine, and I’m pretty sure she couldn’t have come up with this little rodeo all by herself. These other hooligans belong to my friend who has 13 children. (Late breaking editorial--imagine my friend's surprise when she saw that she had 13 children and could only find 11--thankfully she isn't going to sue for libel) She is the “chillest” Mom I know. That's why I can post this—she will just laugh. Like I did. And then of course I made them come in and stop all this nonsense. Because I’m all about safety. Always.

Please feel free to share this with your friends and unknown neighbors. Everyone deserves to realize just how great a mother/parent they are! And don’t forget—it’s all about safety…….always.

There's a new canoe in town

Do you have a “trademark” food that you make?

I do.

No really, I do.

I CAN cook.

Just not the whole, here is some dried corn, an orange and some parsley—make me dinner thing.

I am fully aware that the only reason they want me at church functions or attend any event at my home or invite me for dinner and tell to bring dessert is because of these:

But in case you are tempted to

call them this:

STOP

IMMEDIATELY!!

These morsels of marshmallow injected manna are:

~CANOE CUPCAKES~

you heard me….C.A.N.O.E.Cupcakes

And making them is apparently one of my few redeemable skills.

Other people store wheat and make life sustaining bread from it.

Ppfffttt

What makes me smile {even more than a sugared canoe overdose induced coma}

is the thought of how they came up with the name.

Someone looked at this:

And said, “Oh, look a twinkie pan”

And someone else said, “Don’t be ridiculous, that’s a canoe cake pan.”

I would like to hang out with that person.

In case anyone would like to be the dessert star of their social circle—here is a link to the store I bought it from:

Tell them Lisa, from Montana sent you—I swear they’ll treat you like a celebrity.

Sunday addendum:

(Don't say I didn't warn you)

Cream Canoe Recipes

Cake Ingredients:

1 yellow cake mix (I like Pillsbury-why, thank you for asking)

2 eggs

2 cups milk

1 lg pkg instant vanilla pudding

Cake Instructions:

Mix cake mix, eggs, milk and pudding together. Fill canoe wells and bake according to the cupcake directions on the cake box. Allow the canoe cakes to cool completely.

The VERY best Cream Filling:

2 tsps very hot water

1/4 tsp salt

2 cups of marshmallow creme (7 oz jar)

1/2 cup vegetable shortening 1/3 cup powdered sugar

1 tsp vanilla

Instructions:

1. Combine the salt with the water in a small bowl and stir until salt is dissolved. Let cool.

2. COmbine the marshmallow creme, shortening, powdered sugar and vanilla in a medium bowl and mix with an electric mixer on high speed until fluffy.

3. Combine the salt solution to the filling mixture. Makes 1 1/2 cups.

The OTHER filling:

1 cup milk

5 TBSP flour

1 cup sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1/2 cup vegetable shortening

1/2 cup butter

2 tsps vanilla

Mix milk and flour together in a saucepan. Boil until mixture is thick. Cool. Beat with an electric mixer until fluffy. Add remaining ingredients one at a time, beating well after each addition.

Okay--now for the disclaimers and the reiteration of the fact that I know next to nothing about cooking. No Pioneer Woman here, my lovelies. I AM trying to limit the high fructose and trans fats in our diet but when it comes to playing with canoes, I am of the opinion that, if you have issues--don't make them. Don't leave shore without your paddle either--but that's a whole different post.

These are the few cooking related things that I have learned/noticed/thrown entire pans away about.

1-yes, you can use your favorite homemade cake mix but you have to still change out the liquids and oil for the pudding and milk if you want that"celebrity look alike" taste.

2-I have only made the Best filling. It tasted fantastic, so I never tried the other. I'm industrious that way.

3- You can use any flavor cake mix and pudding combinations. I tried pistachio pudding and yellow cake mix for St Pat's Day. Discovered that green canoes are not very appetizing. But maybe thats just us.

4- Don't let them cool in the pan very long--sticky issues. But, on the other hand--lots of taste testing opportunities, so I guess its a personal choice.

I think thats about it. Glad we had this time together. Come over anytime--I'll be glad to make you some. (I say that with the perfect knowledge that you will never find me here in my garage in the middle of the forest in the middle of nowhere Montana--but please--don't let that stop you)

Open Letter

Open Letter to the woman in the bathroom stall next to mine at "The Big Box Store":

I realize that there are certain sounds that one should expect when using the bathroom at a public venue.

Every body poops--I get it.

Here's the deal:::::::

Although I have been amused--- all the way to--

- "Seriously, you need to see a doctor about that" ---

with the sound effects in the stall next to me, there is one group of sounds that I wish to address here.

The sigh, the whistle, the grunt, the hum-- and the ahhhh.

People.

Please.

I understand that sometimes, during the process of weighing which is worse, peeing your pants or dying of some heaven knows what that lingers on the toilet seat, we wait till almost too late to avail ourselves of the facilities.

It happens.

What I need NOT to happen is for you to emit ANY kind of sound FROM YOUR MOUTH, while relieving yourself.

{{{{{ANY sound. Zip. NADA. NO. NONE.}}}}}}

I DO NOT need to sit there, feeling violated to my very core, eyes wide, unable to finish my own "business", as I wonder just what might be taking place on the other side of that stall wall.

Unable to remember how to zip my own pants so I can flee the "STAll OF TERRORS" I had entered so innocently only moments before.

Scarred by the very thought that I might come face to face with what or who was behind DOOR #2.

PLEASE. STOP. THE. MADNESS.

I beg you.

That is all.

Signed, The Potty Police

Proof of Life

I have been going through a mental blog crisis, of sorts.

Every time I go to type my thoughts become constipated on the way to my fingers.

Actual thoughts now running through my head:

Punctuation. Colon, semi-colon. Hyphen? Remember when that author mocked all those who used dashes. Must not use dashes. Is it a dash or a hyphen? Should I google it so I don't look completely stupid? Snort, should have never started blogging if that was important. Blank space.......oh yeah. Where did my thoughts get constipated? [Surveying arms and fingers.] I wish I didn't have piano players fingernails. And that gimpy middle finger. Focus, Constipation. Gotta be the elbows or the wrists. Wait, there is my neck. [Moving head in all directions.] Wow, I really like this condo we are staying in. Love the wall paint. STOP! Focus! Neck. No, more likely the elbows or wrists. Kinda like the drain pipes in a toilet. Man, I'm not ready to go back home to our 1 bathroom garage yet. Ooo, Nat's coming home this weekend though--that will be fun. Oh, can't forget Studmuffin's Dr's appt. Studmuffin. Oo, I think that is what I will nickname my husband on this site. I wonder if they will really go snowboarding on Saturday. Where is everyone? Oh that's right, they're down at the pool. Soaking after a day of snowboarding. Blank space...focus, focus, focus. Oh yeah, constipation. Thoughts. I can never type anything witty or smart I really shouldn't be blooging. Whoops, blogging. Blooging, what a funny word. It could be like blew and boogers. AAHH! Focus! Shouldn't be blogging. Remember that blog that mocked people for saying they blogged for journaling purposes, or to keep family up to date and whatever--that everybody who blogged was just basically a narcissist --holy moly--spellchecker says I spelled that right, on the first try! I wish I could spell check my mouth, in public. Heck, I wish I could edit myself in public. I really want to use dashes. I can't focus on anything else because I am trying not to use dashes. Dashes or hyphens? Hyphenated dashes? Who knew that was a word? Blank space...my thought have reached an impasse. I wonder if that is because my elbows are bent? Ack!

Are you still with me?

It's a mess, isn't it.

It's like diarrhea of the brain that gets constipated on the way to my fingers.

I have decided though, that I am going to be a blogger.

It doesn't matter what my reasons are, because there is always someone out there that will mock---I will just have to wear my "mocking-boots"--{snort} Sorry.

I just want to stop allowing my self to fail before I even try.

I think I am channeling Yoda.

Sooo...back at the ranch.

Actually, the condo. We have been vacationing on the lake in Coeur de Lane, ID this week. (just a time share—we are so not rich) Phil and the kids have been snowboarding and playing at a water park and in the pool here.

Flying down a mountain on a piece of wood at 50 miles an hour does not speak peace to my soul. It speaks screaming and pain, actually.

Nor does being mistaken for Shamu at the water park and chased with a harpoon.

Soo... I do...important things...you know.. important things. I have been doing....important things... like, reading and playing on the computer. Sometimes I even let myself just close my eyes and enjoy the silence.

And because I feel naked without pictures, here is a few of the lake from our deck. The one of my Studmuffin fencing with the Wii is just a bonus for making it all the way to the end.

PS--what makes the wii pics even better is if you imagine him making ninja/oriental sounds while playing. We call him "The Ninja Fencer"

Oh dear, where did those other 2 fencing pics come from? I distinctly remember promising Studmuffin there would be only one. {hanging head in shame}

Gone but not forgotten….

My better half and favorite son have been in Utah this past week, leaving 3 of us girls to aimlessly mill about awaiting their return.

Right.

N.O.T.

Testosterone free, that's what we be.

I have nothing particularly interesting or funny to share.

Still working on the Christmas letter. Don’t judge me.

Speaking of holiday epistle’s…

I finally gave up trying to be in charge and just kept snapping pictures, hoping I might get one good one.

The first time I looked at them on the computer, I couldn’t see a single one that I felt was good enough to send in our Christmas letter.

Then my #3 daughter walked in my room, looked at my computer screen and said,” That was the funnest photo shoot we have ever had. I LOVE these pics. What a great memory!”

Funny how a few words can completely change your perspective.

The second time I looked through the pictures, I could hardly find one I didn’t like.

So, I give you part 2 of “the funnest photo shoot ever”……

 

This one is the one I will probably send with the letter but……..

….this next one is the one that TRULY shows the personality of each of my children…

Kelly—3rd girl, middle child, THE MIX

        Drama queen like Nat and “kiss

        my wha?!” of Tae

Taelor--kiss my wha? with a side order

               of the most tender of hearts-#1

Natalie—It’s me! It’s me!

Not only do I need to be center stage

         but I will be taking up ALL of it

      thank you very much--#2

Milan—Too cool, I can tease my sisters

              till they scream and cry  but

              don’t anyone else even think about

              it…dude…seriously….#4

Angel Bean—always wanting to be doing

                     what everyone else is..

                      Always watching, always

                          loving..#5

              

………PERFECT.

 

A winter wassail woo-hooo…….

 

Is it Christmas yet?

With the rain gently falling on the snow outside, it’s so hard to tell.

 Miss me much?

 

I thought so.

 

I’ll skip the boring details. Here a crisis, there a crisis. You know how it goes.

I have been sneaking around, here and there, reading about you all though—I’ve needed the laughs, the mental escape, the drooling on my keyboard over your Christmas cooking!!

I have 30 pans of sugar cookies waiting to be baked as we speak…seriously…no really. I am hosting my first annual piano student Christmas party. We will play all our Christmas pieces for each other and decorate and eat sugar cookies. I use the term “we” loosely. I am not sure I can be trusted to be the responsible adult for an hour and a half at such an event. I’m not sure I can trust 12 children for an hour and a half at such an event. Pray for us all….

especially the cookies.

Speaking of drooling, (mentally and physically, of course) I have an new Apple with a 27” screen! It is the most fabulous thing my hubby has ever given me. You have no idea how lovely it is to be able to actually SEE things on my computer screen!! 27” screens are celestial baby!! Of course now I am not due for another present till the year 2020. That has been another thing that has kept me busy, learning and transferring---a huge time drain cuz I am a little slow on the uptake.

Oh! My computer guru, whom I now worship, retrieved my pictures!!! It was nothing short of a miracle! Walking on water..pfft…(not being irreverent,do not report me to the miracle police)  I want to blog about the happenings that have happened so I can do one of those books for the year so for the rest of the year I will be doing catch up---feel free to skip it all. There is bound to be sentimental smarm leaking out all over the place.

Speaking of sentimental, my Dad is holding his own. My Mom just called and said they had to take him into the hospital because he had been throwing up. They think it is the flu. Hopefully it will pass quickly for him.

So the first pics I want to share with you are from the”photo shoot” I tried to have at Thanksgiving with my kids. Good grief, I think it was actually easier when they were younger. I won’t post them all tonight—I give you…

THE SHOOT

Okay kids, lets try the porch first…KIDS! PORCH! NOW!

Everyone look at ME!

The other ME!

Yes, Milan, I know you are big and strong and I know you think you can lift Nat now, but don’t…

I don’t think you are quite…..

Yep, there she goes……

Sure, take your time, I’m not going anywhere, glad you’re alright…..

To be continued…..