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May
7
I should not be writing at this time of night. That kind of thing never ends well.
If you’ve been reading this blog for more than a week, you might have realized that I am trying to be more “real”, more authentic, more honest. Honesty is not always pretty. Just warning ya.
This is starting to become a routine for me. It’s late at night, my family has been in bed for over an hour. The husband is deep in snoreland, so I know it’s safe to do something I would never do in front of him. Something I have never even told anyone about.
What am I doing late at night that is so shocking and embarrassing that I would die if my husband found out? Sigh. I’m eating. That’s right, eating.
I know you’re probably all scratching your head and asking what’s so bad about that…you are doing that, right? Anyway. What’s so bad about it is that I’m eating junk food at 11pm or later, and that’s not going to help me in my quest to live healthier.
Last fall I had some serious health problems pop up, and since then I take about seven different medications every day. I don’t know why, but the combination of medicine absolutely kills my appetite. I know this isn’t healthy either, but I’m not hungry at all during the day, and I normally don’t even try to eat anything until dinner, around 6pm. Even by then, I’m not hungry and may be able to force down only a tiny bit of whatever we’re eating.
I can feel that this is not good for me; even though I don’t feel hungry, I can tell by mid afternoon that my body needs nourishment. I might try to have a banana or some cheese and crackers, but it’s more than not being hungry. I cannot force it down; I just can’t eat.
I usually stay up pretty late finishing homework or working until after midnight. And then it starts. I still don’t feel hungry, but by this late hour I have regained my will to eat. It’s not really boredom, because I’m busy. It’s more like I eat to keep myself awake. If I just sit here and read my school assignment or stare at the computer, my eyelids get heavy and my head starts to drop. Hard to do that when you’re digging into some chips and salsa.
This is a huge problem. Eating this late at night makes me feel just as bad as not eating throughout the day. It’s impossible to sleep on such a full stomach – full of junk, at that, so I stay up later and am tired the next day. It’s a vicious cycle, and I’m trying to stop.
I decided that I just wasn’t going to buy any snacks that I like. My sons are growing boys, so we have lots of healthy snacks for them. That’s not what I’m going for at 11pm. I won’t reach for fruit or granola when I have the late night munchies, nooo I won’t. I’m grabbing the salty and crunchy good stuff. Then in the morning I am bloaty and cranky from all the salty and crunchy. Like I said, vicious cycle.
I do pretty good when I just don’t buy the stuff I like. But even that is a battle of my will versus my inner snack monster. When I’m at the store some invisible magnetic force pulls me against my will to the chip aisle. As hard as I fight it, chips, salsa and basically anything crunchy ends up in my cart! Before I know it, I’ve paid for the junk and brought it home. It’s like I’m possessed!
There you have it. Real, authentic, honest. Painfully honest. Can you help me overcome this affliction? And if not, can you at least tell me your secret, shameful vice? I don’t want to be all alone with my secrets here.
For more Friday Fails visit My Blessed Life.
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Apr
29
Okay maybe you didn’t ask, but I’m sure that question keeps you up at night 
I should really save these gems of wisdom for some very important meme, but I will share with you now. Here are just a few of the reasons why this mama is Worn Out this week:
My son likes coffee. Fine. As long as it’s decaf, I don’t care what he drinks. So he makes coffee every morning for himself, and sometimes his dad will also drink it. I do not drink coffee. I do not make it – I don’t know how to make coffee. There, I admitted it. Since I don’t make the coffee, I have been a little baffled the past few days because when I am cleaning the kitchen after they’ve all gone off to school or work or wherever it is they go, there has been a muddy puddle of mud by the coffee pot. The first day I assumed “someone” had a spill. The second day I got a little annoyed. The third day, today, I asked both my son and my husband why they kept making a mess with the coffee. My son nonchalantly said, “Oh, I told you, I broke the coffee pot”. First, no he did not tell me. Second, so it’s broke, but he is still using it to make coffee??? Apparently he figured that a cracked coffee pot is still usable, and he could not be bothered with the mess he was making. I am still rolling my eyes over this one.
This group of guys that I live with is on a health kick. They make a lot of smoothies. I do not eat smoothies. I do not know how to make a smoothie. Well okay, I could probably figure that one out, but they don’t need to know that. So they all make their own. Earlier this week I was cleaning up the morning mess in the kitchen. Someone had left the big canister of protein powder out after making his smoothie. I grabbed the canister – did I mention it is huge – to put it away. I grabbed the huge canister by the top. The person who failed to put it away also failed to tighten the lid, so when I grabbed it by the lid, the huge canister thing crashed to the ground, leaving me holding just the lid. Sigh. At least I got most of it swept up before my dog could overdose on protein powder. And yes, my husband already pointed out that this is the second time this has happened, and I should know better than to grab it by the lid. I KNOW!
At my youngest son’s baseball game the other day, I begged whined pleaded asked my oldest son to go with me. I like it when he comes with me; we text each other during the game. While we are sitting beside each other. Mother/son bonding. Anyway, he didn’t want to go, but I guilted him into it convinced him that it would be fun. You know how when someone whacks a ball and it goes over the fence, but behind the batter? Everyone yells “heads up” so that no one gets hit with the stray ball. And in my eight years of going to my boys’ baseball games, no one has ever gotten hit with one of those stray balls. Until last weekend. Guess who got hit in the head with one? My son. The one sitting right beside me. I knew that darn ball was coming right at us, but I also assumed that he was paying attention and looking up. It happened so fast, and luckily it was more of a lob than a hard hit, but it still whacked him on the head pretty good. He didn’t even see it coming. I beat myself up for awhile, thinking I should have reached out and at least tried to catch it (yeah right) or deflect it away from him. He is okay, and because I have seen many injuries over the years from kids hit with a baseball, even some pretty serious injuries, I am very grateful that it wasn’t worse. He keeps saying that he never wanted to go in the first place, so of course he would be the one to get hit.
In an act of supreme klutziness, I managed to slam my finger in the front door today. Don’t ask me how because I couldn’t tell ya. All I know is that my poor ring finger turned purple and swelled up. When I reached into my jeans pocket by habit and lightly brushed that finger against my pocket, it hurt so badly that I may have screamed. This goes on my list of “things that do not happen to most adults, but somehow happen to me”. It’s a long list.
We are almost at the end of the school year, with just a few weeks left. So it is very fitting that now, so close to the finish, I get a phone call from my 12 year old’s school. I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize, and when I answered, it was my son. I instantly knew that something had happened, because otherwise he would be calling me on his phone. I refrained from saying WHAT DID YOU DO? but I was thinking it. Seriously though, this boy has never been in trouble a day in his life; he is the child that at every parent/teacher conference, his teacher says “He’s a good student, he’s just so quiet“. Well, my boy has come out of his shell. Apparently he and his best buddy were walking down the hall on their way out of school, because the last bell had rang. They may have been a little rambunctious. My son’s friend may have swung his backpack at my son. At which point my son returned the gesture. All the teacher saw was my son swinging his backpack towards the other boy. The backpack hit that boy’s leg, but because of where the teacher was standing, she thought he got hit in the, ahem, area where boys do not want to be hit. I guess she called them both over and asked the other boy if he was okay. That boy said yeah, it didn’t hurt, and that he thought it was funny. The teacher was not amused, and had my son call me. He is lucky that he didn’t get detention. Instead she just wanted me to know what my fine young man was doing. Needless to say, my son knows that I do not want to get another phone call like that ever again.
Well there you have it. That is just a small sample of the excitement that I experience on a pretty much daily basis. Try to contain your jealousy. But seriously, I think this kind of week is a perfect example of why all mothers are saints!
I read some article recently about being a successful blogger, and one point was that you should try to pass along some tip or bit of wisdom in your posts. Ha! Um, I mean here are my helpful tips:
- Do not let your teenager make coffee or smoothies.
- If you by chance happen to dump an entire container of protein powder on the floor, Do Not tell your husband. The sympathy you are looking for will not be forthcoming.
- Do not go to any baseball games. If you do, wear a helmet.
- Wear thick gloves at all times to avoid the possibility of slamming your finger in a door.
- If you get a call from a number you don’t recognize, just don’t answer it. It might be a telemarketer, or it might be your child’s school. Either way, it can’t be good.
There, I feel a bit wiser already.
Do these kinds of things happen at your house? No? Anything even close? Pretend, for my sake. Tell me what kind of week you are having.
I’ve linked this at Friday Fails even though it’s more like a week full of Fails. Hey, does that make me an overachiever?
For more Friday Fails visit My Blessed Life - and share yours!
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Apr
7
I didn’t think I’d have to write this post, and I’m not sure how much good it will do, but here goes.
If I visit a blog or website with a donate button, I usually don’t even notice. If I do notice, its probably because I’m looking for that button. I have donated before on blogs and I will again. Not once have I been offended by that, or by posts asking for help.
From the comments and emails I’ve gotten, 99.999% of you feel the same way. Some don’t, and thats fine. If something offends you, by all means, avoid it.
This isn’t a begging blog. As I said, I have seen many blogs with donate buttons for all kinds of things, all kinds of people. I didn’t find any rule that said you can only have a donate button if you are raising money for a trip, or for someone else. The absolute greatest thing about any button on any blog – you can ignore it if you want. It was never my intention to offend or annoy or anger anyone.
I didn’t twist anyone’s arm to either visit my blog or donate. I don’t consider holding a giveaway to be begging. I gave away something valuable. Not just valuable to me, but something worth money. The winner is free to use it and enjoy it, or sell it. Whatever they want. And just to be clear, I did not make a profit on my giveaway. Those cameras are selling for more on eBay. I got several emails telling me to stop the giveaway and sell it. Haven’t we all particpated in a giveaway where we bought a ticket to enter? Donating was optional, anyone could enter without donating. I am just as thankful and grateful for the emails, prayers and kind words as I am for the donations.
I shared bits and pieces of my life, just some of the things that are going on with me and my family. If it makes people feel better, this is more than just grad school stressing me out. It really would take more than that to bring me to my knees. I can deal with my own problems, whether it be health or stress or money or school. Its when all that is going on, plus things are going seriously, life threateningly wrong for other members of my family, other people that I would give my life for, that I start to crumble. I’m not going to post a laundry list of the things that have piled up in the past few months. I can’t do that because it would mean giving private details about members of my family, and those things are not mine to share.
Comments. I have never had a comment policy here, never had to. I don’t want to ban people or delete comments. If you have an opinion, please share it, even if its different from mine. We are all adults and we can have rational discussions. However, if your comment is so vile and vulgar that my spam catcher blocks it, I’m not going to approve it.
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Mar
15
Spring break is here, and at least today, it actually looks like spring outside. I’ll take that.
I’m not sure, but the fact that I’ve already threatened suggested sending my sons to their grandparents for the week does not sound like a great start. I don’t think of a visit to grandparents as punishment, but just as a reminder that the plans they’ve made with their friends can be cancelled if the constant bickering does not stop – SOON!
I know they have spring fever; its been a rough couple of months for all of us. But really, who knew teenage boys could be so stinkin loud!
On another note, last week I started another phase of research for my big project this semester – visiting and interviewing librarians in local middle schools. On one hand, I was excited for this, because I want to work in a middle school, so here is my chance to see first hand what its like.
On the other hand, it meant stepping out of my comfort zone, which makes me anxious. I’ve really worked at home for so long that instead of welcoming the chance to get out of the house, I almost dread it. I also wanted to make a good impression, in case someday I applied for a job at one of these schools. Which made me even more nervous.
The day of the first two interviews, I got up early so I could have time to get ready and go over my interview questions without rushing. Good planning right? If it only worked out that way.
Everything was fine until I tried to put my contact lenses in. I swear I wasn’t hurrying, but somehow it got twisted around and way up under my eyelid. I could not get that contact to come down. I could feel it in my eye, in the wrong place, and it hurt. I tried rubbing my eye, tried eye drops, tried cussing, tried blaming it on my kids, tried crying. Nothing worked.
Thirty minutes later, I realized that if I was going to make it to my interview on time, which seemed important, I needed to go right then. I threw on some clothes, ran a brush through my hair, and off I went. Red, watery eye and swollen eyelid included. As I was leaving, I told my husband this is exactly why I should always work from home. Leaving the house is a disaster.
Sigh. I survived that day, but I can’t wait to find out what will go wrong the next time I have an important interview!
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Feb
18
peeking shyly into the blogosphere…
Hi. This blog is deserted! My fault. Let me give you the facts of life for Sheri right now:
- Graduate school. Or I should say GRADUATE SCHOOL! I am taking two classes this semester, and one of them has been known to cause people to drop out and never come back, its that hard. And time consuming. I dream about dropping out, but that’s why I waited til my third semester to take this class; I’ve got too much invested in this dream to drop out now.
- Snow days. My kids have been out of school practically more than they’ve been in school since the first of January. The first few snow days were fun; after that, not so much fun as miserable. And as soon as the weather improved:
- Sickness. My family cannot get well. We finally recovered from the swine flu epidemic, then Nolan got sick last weekend. My husband was taking the kids to Kansas so I could get some work done on my massive school project, but instead I stayed home with the sick boy. Now I am sick. Never fails.
- Busy-ness. How can a family with only two kids be so stinkin busy? Band concerts, piano contests, school dances, shopping to be done for clothes to wear to the school dances, because we apparently don’t do “semi-formal” in real life. And the best part: Every single activity/event/concert/contest/campout/field trip costs money, yay!
- Since we’re talking about money, I have to mention: Doctor visits. Prescriptions. Lab tests. ‘Nuff said.
- The winter slump has hit me hard. I don’t want to do anything, especially not anything that resembles required reading, research, citations, or attending class. Whoops, thats my whole life. What do I want to do? I want to eat ginormous amounts of baked goods, which I want someone else to prepare for me. I want to lie on the couch in a clean living room, one without tissues and medicine all over the tables. I want my house to be cleaned by someone besides me (but lets be honest, its been awhile since I’ve cleaned it). Am I asking too much, really?
So, there you have it. Blog = back burner. Actually, anything I truly enjoy = back burner right now. I am trying to write down post ideas as I have them, and I do have them, because I miss writing and having a life to write about. I keep reminding myself, I chose this, and the accompanying craziness of having a family and going back to school. Maybe I didn’t willingly choose the sickness part; that was buried in the fine print, but I chose the rest of it.
I will find my way back here to post regularly again, hopefully soon. I will conquer my schoolwork and my messy house, and maybe I’ll even bake something for myself and read a book for fun. Eventually.
Who else has a crazy life right now?
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Feb
2
We all are slowly making our way back to the land of the living after our visit from swine flu. But its slow going. I wanted to post an update, but you’ll have to excuse the randomness of my ramblings.
~My kids had a two week Christmas break. The week they went back to school, they had two snow days, so another four day weekend. Then they got a three day weekend for Martin Luther King day. Last week they got out of school early on Thursday and no school at all on Friday because of snow. Even without the flu, I would be exhausted from all the snow days! I am not enjoying this winter wonderland anymore.
~I turned 41 on Sunday. It was actually nice to be snowed in on my birthday, a very quiet day.
~I went to a meeting for parents of incoming high school students last night to learn about enrollment. I’m not sure why I was asked to attend, don’t they realize there is NO WAY my baby can be in high school?? Although that same baby keeps reminding me that he will get his driver’s permit this summer. Why does he want me to have gray hair?
~My husband and oldest son are doing the P90x program. My husband has been doing the exercise program for a few months; after the holidays he started loosely following the eating plan. Tanner started doing the exercise program in January and is also loosely following the eating plan. What this means is that there are no good snacks in my house. None. I’m all for eating healthy, but a girl needs some snacks around. Also, eating healthier means cooking more. None of this grab a bag of processed something or other and throw it in the oven. There is chopping, slicing, dicing, baking, broiling, and in my case, burning. Yes, burning. A few weekends ago, I decided to grill some steak that my inlaws had given us. My husband and Tanner were practically salivating at the thought of those steaks after a week of tuna, chicken and 500 pounds of vegetables. I started grilling when Mike and Nolan were driving home from baseball practice. I haven’t grilled in awhile, let me just say that. So when the smoke alarm went off, I ignored it. Must be malfunctioning, why would the smoke alarm in the house go off when I’m grilling outside? When that thought sunk in, I ran outside to find the back of the house covered in smoke. The flames were so out of control I could not open the grill for about 20 minutes after I turned it off. So when Mike got home, starving for steak, to find a plate with baked fish and a pile of veggies waiting for him, he was not happy. We all cried that night.
~I am not doing the P90x program with the guys. I may have told them that I am diligently doing the workouts during the day, when I’m home alone. That may have been a small lie fib. The truth is more like when I’m home alone I sometimes pick up the exercise dvds and move them off the table. To make room for my snack. Then I remember, NO SNACKS! I’m really suffering through their fitness program, and I do not appreciate it.
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Nov
9
Tonight my youngest son, husband and I were hanging out in the living room. I don’t watch much TV, but I was taking a break from my homework. My husband was watching football and flipping the channel back and forth to whatever my son wanted to watch. Finally my son sighed, got up, walked over to me and asked:
Can I just go read my book?
Sweeter words were never spoken That boy takes after his mother!
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Nov
7
Since my husband and youngest son are gone, it was just me and the teenager here. We made a fast trip to the mall, fast because I don’t enjoy shopping or the mall. Even though I avoid shopping, I wasn’t too surprised to hear sales clerks telling customers to “Have a Merry Christmas”. All that starts way too early for me, but every store seems to do it. But I was shocked to see Santa at the mall, with children lined up to sit on his lap and tell him what they want for a holiday that is about seven weeks away! Does that seem a bit early for anyone else? Christmas is my favorite holiday, so I’m not being all bah humbug, but come on.
At this rate, Santa will have to make room for the Easter Bunny before Christmas even gets here. Or one on each end of the mall maybe. Ridiculous.
Am I the only one that feels this way?
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Nov
6
My husband and youngest son are going on a Boy Scout camp out this weekend. My older son has all region band tryouts tomorrow and a football game to go to tonight, so it looks like I’m going to have some quality alone time. Can’t complain about that
When my husband and sons go camping, I rent a chick flick to watch by myself. It has become a tradition that on Friday or Saturday night, when I settle down to watch my movie, I have to call my husband – usually in the middle of a very fun campfire activity – and ask him to tell me, AGAIN, how do you work the dvd player. Yes, I am my mother when it comes to technology. I just very rarely watch TV, never TIVO anything, and the only time I control the remote is when I am home alone. How can I be expected to remember what to do when I only do it a couple times a year??
It’s quite the joke in my family, my kids think its a combination of hysterical and embarrassing. Today my husband decided to break tradition, and he showed me how to do it before he left. He not only showed me, he had me do it.
So much for tradition. I guess he really doesn’t want me to interrupt the smores again.
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Oct
14
As an added bonus for my loyal blog readers (yes plural!) I’m going to start sharing words of wisdom that my kids so willingly share with me. I know that this stuff is so valuable I should charge for it, but I’m going to share it for free. Write this down people, because you’ll probably never hear it anywhere else.
This is a conversation I had with my 14 year old last night. Background info: he does his own laundry, not because he is so helpful that way, but because mom got tired of the daily laundry requests.
Tanner: Is it too late to do a load of laundry? I need to wash whites.
Mom: I guess not, but don’t just throw in yours, throw in all the whites in the hamper.
Tanner (after finding very few whites in the hamper): Do these gray shorts count as white? (the shorts are white and light gray)
Mom: yes
Tanner (back with a few more things): Do these black jeans count as white?
Mom: shocked silence, absolutely nothing to say to that. He was actually waiting for the answer though, so I eventually had to get up off the floor, stop laughing, and explain that NO, black does not count as white.
Don’t you wish you lived at my house? The hilarity never stops. Just do not let my son do your laundry.
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My boys
Where did those little guys go?Cuteness overload
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