My Perfect Day

I made up my perfect day years ago.
I made it up before I met my husband.
I made it up before I knew what I would go to University for.
I made it up on a whim for something to talk about.
And My Perfect Day still stands today.

My perfect day would start with baby cries. Not a usual model of perfection.
I imagine I will get up, still too tired to really think, and go in to feed my infant child. By the time the baby was fed and back to sleep, it would be time to get the older children up for school.
While the kids are getting up and brushing teeth, getting more spit on the floor and each other than down the drain, I will make oatmeal or cold cereal while yelling at them to hurry up and not wake the baby.
While they are sitting down for breakfast and fighting over who has more milk in their cereal, my husband would be getting ready for work and wondering where he put his keys (which this part is already a truth for My Lovely). He will come in to gulp down some oatmeal and kiss the kids, and then kiss me goodbye and have to get to work. He would be out the door as I give up on the kids finishing their entire breakfast. While they are putting shoes on the wrong feet, I will go in to the baby and pick him/her up so I can walk all the kids to the bus stop in my husbands slippers. (Bus stop nearness depending, of course, but this is a day of perfection remember) The kids will get on the bus while the driver gives my slippers a look, then I will walk back home.
After breakfast is cleaned up, I have a set amount of time. Errands have to be done, and I need to get in a certain amount of writing or crafting. I have goals, people. Even if I don't reach them, every bit of progress is a win for me.
After baby is sleeping and I have done as little house work as I can get away with while remaining tidy, the kids will be headed home. No doubt I will have an alarm set, because if I don't meet them or at least ready for them when they get home, mud pies will be the first order of their agenda.
Kids can come home either in a buddy system, or myself or another Mom friend (In my dreams of the future I am much better at making friends) going to get them.
Once home, shoes come off and the kids get a (healthy?) snack before anything else. Then, they have a chore list to do before they can play. I am not against video games, as long as screen time and other play time are balanced.
I will have another alarm to start dinner for it to be ready (around) the time husband gets home. It was be on a slightly healthier side, but still comforting food. Home cooked meals unless in celebration of something. Limiting take aways as a rule.
When husband gets home he has time to play with the kids a bit before dinner is on the table.
Dinner as a family, at the table.
Then husband gets to help kids with homework, and hold the baby while I have a minute of me-time. (I am aware this will usually just be a shower or a quick self-pedicure.) Then, kids are to bed with a story that isn't about coloring on walls or breaking into bear's houses. While they are asleep, and between bathroom breaks and glasses of water that will demand another bathroom break, husband and I will have time to catch up and be together.
Then off to bed, to wake up early for a crying baby in a few more hours.

That is my perfect day. You will notice it is a specific day. Most days aren't going to be this good, and I am very aware of that. But that is why this is my perfect day. When I have a day like this, I will be truly content that night, knowing I have reached my goal.
I don't want perfect kids or a perfect house. I really don't want to be a perfect Mom. Where is the fun in that? But I want a good, normal, day that I can be happy with.

I told my Mother about this perfect day in my head. She acted like I was weird, but hoped I got it at least once.
I asked her what her Perfect Day would be. If she had an image of one in her head, even just to think about, or if she had already had that perfect that.
She told me that her perfect day would be the day that the last of her kids got married in the Temple. That all of her children were worthy and married in the covenant, and her work would be done. Because it would mean she had done her job and raised her children to be righteous and good. And that meant we would all be married - and therefore off her plate.
My Daddy is waiting for the day all of his children write him a check each month, and he doesn't have to work anymore. (Inside joke. At least, I think it is a joke.)

What is your Perfect Day? Is it simple or grand? Is it an event or goal reached, or just a happy day that works out among all the others? Let me know below. I will read them, I promise.

Smile Always.

The Story of My Ta-Duh Day

Someone asked me once what was my most embarrassing moment. I didn't have an answer. I honestly couldn't think of one. Either I don't get embarrassed all that much, block it out, or make it a joke so it isn't embarrassing anymore.

And then I had my Ta-Duh Day.

Let's rewind the clock a bit. (As if that actually reversed time - but I like the phrase.)

I was a Senior in High School.

I didn't like High School. I didn't like school in general, really. I never got along with my peers until I came to University, and even then most of them annoyed me. In High School my issue was that if I was going to be there, I had better get something out of it. Which, as I am sure you are all more than aware, is nigh impossible. With classrooms crammed with a bunch of teenagers that don't want to be there, and don't respect authority, while most of them were on some type of dependency chemical (there is a reason Washington state was the first to legalize Pot) it was impossible for the instructor to teach a valuable lesson start to finish.

I had been taking community college classes instead of high school classes for over a year by then. It is amazing the difference it makes when the classroom is filled with students that want to learn. From classes where the students have to be there in order to not get in trouble, verses classes where the students paid for those classes and demand their money's worth, you can imagine the one I preferred.

But there are all sorts of rules to jump around when going to community college instead of High School. The system didn't want to going to college, as it reduced the money they were getting from the government, or some such thing. Either way, they made it very difficult for me to finish high school through college. In the end, on my block before graduation, they demanded that I come back to High School, though I only had two two classes left on the docket, which I could have taken in college classes. But because of details and loopholes, I was forced to take these last two at the physical High School.

Enough of set up, back to the day in question.

I had an early morning Seminary Class. I went every morning before the first bell, at a near-ish church building. My Daddy was kind enough to take me and some other Seminary students from the church building and to the High School.

That morning I had been late for Seminary. Or as my Daddy likes to call it, Cemetery. (because of the hours and brain dead students. Dad jokes.) Being late this early was nothing new. I didn't bother brushing my hair that morning, it being so short at the time, and my not caring about boys of that age anyway. I muddled through, and then we headed to High School.

When I got out of the car to cross the street, I nearly got ran over. Not uncommon, and I wasn't concerned.

My class was up the main stairway and in a computer lab. While I headed towards the stairway, I noticed that many students were already there, having breakfast in the cafeteria. The cafeteria is in plain view of all students coming into the building, and all students climbing the stairs. You see where I am going with this.

Not even half way up the main staircase, I trip over my own tired feet, and go sprawling all over the stairs. I always keep the top zipper pocket of my backpack open to easily grab pens and things. Because it was open, when I fell pens and pencils and two tampons fell out and scattered everywhere.

I rubbed my tired eyes and started picking things up when I noticed the laughter. I turned, and the entire cafeteria had seen me fall and were laughing at me. Nearest the stairs was a table full of the loudest and most popular guys. They were of course laughing the loudest and pointing.

With my hands full, and not knowing what to do, I thought fast.

I didn't care if I ever saw any of these people ever again. Most of them were annoying and just interested in social groups and making crude jokes.

But I didn't like the precedent that if I backed down or was embarrassed, it would just encourage them to continue the behavior.

So, trying to think through my tired brain, I turned to the group of guys that were supposed to be attractive (pull your pants up, gentlemen) and popular. I raised my full hands in an 'oh well' gesture, and clearly said "Ta-Duh!"

I continued on to class while they kept laughing.

I had all my things back in my bag before I got to class.

A few people were already in class, mostly in the back of the room and whispering about something or other. I headed to my usual seat that was neither in the back or front, and the seat all the way to the side against the wall. I like defensible positions.

As I went to sit down, I'm not exactly sure how I misjudged myself, but I ended up losing my balance and sitting hard in the seat, falling nearly out of the seat, and body slamming the wall. The impact was rather loud.

I looked behind me in the sudden silence of the classroom. Two girls that had been talking were sitting there staring at me.

I straightened in my seat, gave them a tired smile, and said "Ta-Duh?!"

When done with High School classes, I always had to immediately catch the bus in order to get to college. The bus ride was over an hour most days.

While I was walking to the bus stop closest to the High School, I was reading while walking. I did that a lot. (Still do, who am I kidding)

I noticed before reaching the bus stop that it was a bright and sunny day, strange for Washington. I looked up and around, and at my bus stop, that was usually empty, there was an older guy sitting there.

I had already had a morning of it. I was more awake now. I wasn't going to be weird in front of a guy that was actually okay looking. So I lowered my book, while not putting it away, and kept my head up while I headed towards the bus stop and this looker.

Turns out, not looking at the ground like I usually do, was actually a mistake. I forgot a slight unevenness where some of the pavement met. My foot hit it.

I went down.

I was holding a book, so I hit my knees hard, which gave out, and I fell forward.

Pens scattered again.

I got back to my knees and looked up. The guy was just staring at me, obviously not sure if he should help or laugh.

I had had enough. This day was out to get me. But I wasn't in the mood to give in to the horribleness presented. So, I knelt there and swept my arms wide, and looking this guy in the eye, declared "Ta-Duh!" loudly.

He thought it was funny, but did not help me pick of pens.

I read my book until the bus came, not really liking the sun hitting the pages and hurting my eyes.

When the bus came, the guy got in first, and went directly to the back of the bus. I decided to not tempt fate any more, and went to sit in one of the bench seats at the front of the bus that no one ever sits in, so I would be safe.

I was moving to sit, and was halfway sat, when the driver decided to launch the bus forward. I sprawled instead of sat. My bag was now in the swing of things, and pens went flying again.

I ended up sitting on the floor of the bus, back sore from it's attempts to catch the less than cushioned bench seat. The driver slammed on the breaks when he saw that I had fallen.

"Are you okay?" He yelled, squinting at my from the rear view mirror.

I had to laugh. Some days are just going to be those kind of days.

"Ta-Duh!!!"

And that was my Ta-Duh day. My family loves to hear me tell that story. Keeps people laughing. Other things happened that day as well, but I don't remember the details. The important part is that some days are going to be awful. Most of my teenage years were awful. But when all of it happens in a row like that, sometimes it is better to just yell Ta-Duh! and own it to make it your own.

Smile Always.

The Story of the Spawn

Plot Twist!
I'm Pregnant!

I first knew, because I wasn't having any symptoms.
Perhaps I should start earlier.
My Lovely and I were trying for a child since December. I then had just finished the long process of getting off of my medications in order to safely have and carry a baby.
I wasn't on anything crazy intense, just certain medications that I personally didn't want to be on with a baby growing. While the brands I was on rarely affected the child, and then usually only in the third trimester, I really didn't want to risk it, and I was on such low doses at the time, that I really felt it a good decision.
So, off the meds and being watched carefully by both Doctors and My Lovely, I was doing well. While I of course had certain things to deal with and changes had to be made, I was making it through.
Every time I was due for Shark Week (aka aunt Flo, aka moon sickness, aka menstruating monster, aka cycle sickness - you get the idea) I would get symptoms that I was always sure were signs of pregnancy. Turns out, off my meds that I had been on for years, my signs of Shark Week exactly modeled what early signs of pregnancy looked like. Bad body. I didn't need that.
Then, one month I didn't have any of the symptoms. I was relieved, but didn't think much of it. That month was crazy. We had relatives visiting from out of town, Family drama was escalating (helped by Spawn), and we just found out that we were moving. I wasn't thinking of counting days and stressing about what kept not happening.
I wasn't showing symptoms. At least not the ones I was looking for.
I started sleeping a lot. And I mean A LOT. I could only be awake for a handful of hours before I was nodding off again. It didn't matter what I was doing. I was suddenly unable to think or function until I took a nap. Then I was sleeping even longer each nap. My Lovely was getting worried.
Looking back, I was also very emotional. But because of the stress and drama that was happening at the time, it all seemed very reasonable while I was feeling it.
Said every hormonal train wreck of emotion that ever emoted.
Finally, I realized that I was near Shark Week. I told myself I wasn't going to test until I was at least a week late.
But, lets be honest, I have absolutely no self control. I tested early.
And it was a strong positive.
I screamed and cheered and went in and woke Lovely to tell him. He was happy, if half asleep.
I wanted to call everyone and share in my freak out.
But Lovely is more rational than I am, even while he was half asleep, and made me promise to go get a Doctor's confirmation test before I told anyone. So I did.
Because Lovely has to sleep days because he works graves, I walked myself down to the Doctor's office, and got the confirmation. I was ecstatic. I called, but he was asleep, so I left a text that we were in fact With Spawn.
I knew I wasn't going to be able to sit at home while he slept and stay quite and calm in order to let Lovely sleep. So I went over to some friends of ours. I only told them and one sister, while we made plans of how we were to announce.
Now, I know there is a lot of controversy about when to announce a pregnancy. It is either immediately, or waiting until the end of the first Trimester. Those who wait do so mainly because the risk of miscarriage is very high so early, and they feel it is safer to wait. Those who do not wait do so because happy news is happy news, and if a loss does happen, if people know they can mourn with them.
I decided to announce 'early'. Because if a loss does happen, I am going to be a mess, I know I will, and I don't want people impatient and wondering why I am so upset and angry all the time, and thinking it is just because I went off medication. Really, it is so people will understand and be sensitive, and not give me attitude about my attitude while I am heartbroken.
Also, I can't keep my own happy news to myself. I'm so excited, and I want to share the experiences I have.

We announced by having my Sissy-Poo, who is a photographer, take a photo of Lovely unwrapping a gift that is a mug saying "Best DAD Ever" on it. I love the photo, and I put it all over the inter-webs.

*Edited to protect the innocent*
Some people understood at once. Others didn't get it, even after all the comments of "congrats" started coming in. When I go subtle, sometimes it is too subtle, and no one even sees what I'm doing. I need to work on that.

My first ultrasound is in just under two weeks. Between then and now, Lovely is starting a new semester at university, we are moving across town, trying to get on WIC and Medicaid, and I need to pack and clean our apartment top to bottom. While I am so tired, and starting to feel the queasy and cravings. There is a lot going on. But I am very excited for this journey.

More updates will come as we know them.

P.S. Some people are upset that we are referring to our unborn child as Spawn. We think it is funny. And, if you think about it, accurate. We are in fact Spawning another life. Also, we need something to called it before we know the gender. Some people call the baby Bean or Blueberry or Nugget, or all sorts of other things. I think calling a baby an edible is far stranger than Spawn. So, on this blog the baby will most likely be called Spawn, or 4.1 after a sort of joke my Daddy has running. Don't take offense. We just think we are clever.


Smile Always.

The Story of How I'm a Jerk

I'm a jerk.
When I find people annoying, I have a tendency to attack - with sass.
I am trying to sell some things on a Facebook Garage sale board. My latest thing is Pet rocks. I painted them all cute with little monster faces, took pictures, and put them up asking if anyone in the area would have interest in buying one of these pet rocks, and what they think would be a reasonable price for them, as they are hand painted, yada yada yada.
On one of the posts, a man replied. I got the notice, and was excited that someone was interested.
His comment was "wtf". That is it.
That is all I got. For those of you that don't know, wtf means What The F**k.
Okay, but I don't know what he is referring to. My first feeling is that he is commenting on the pet rocks themselves. I think they are adorable, but perhaps he thinks they look weird. I don't know. Maybe he is wtf'ing that anyone would want a painted rock.
I just don't know.
So after exclaiming about it to My Lovely for a little bit, in which Lovely believes this man is just being a jerk, I decide to reply to his comment.
After all, I don't want the next person that sees the page to be influenced by his wtf, and it would be professional to acknowledge whatever his concern is.
But I'm not very professional. I'm a jerk.
So I replied with a heavy layer of sass.
"Why wtf? It is a question if people would be interested in these rocks, and what they would pay for them. I am not sure what is confusing. Is it because they are pet rocks?
Pet rocks are an exotic species only found in select parts of the world. Capturing them is very time consuming, as they don't move very quickly, so avoid traps amazingly well. Once caught, though, you will be pleased to know they live surprisingly long lives in captivity. They even rival the life span of Parrots and Roman Architecture. Feeding is a simple process, as they live off the excess of your emotions. Namely amusement and disbelief. They are versatile that way. For a special snack they do love dust. You will often find them covered in it, if you do not watch them carefully.
I offer my services to capture these amazing pets, sprouse them up with a little color, and adopt them to the general public.
I am simply wondering if there is any interest in this area of Idaho."
I wrote that, and then posted that as the response, on the page for everyone to see.
Now we wait.

Because I'm hilarious, and kind of a jerk.

Smile Always.

P.S. The pet rocks look like this.