Why Not to Clean

This post could be about Kristen and the fact that she goes to this church for the free food. 

But it's not. At least for now. 

So I am just chillaxin after a long day. Today I cleaned areas that haven't been looked at, let alone cleaned, since we moved into this house almost 4 years ago. Yikes. I dusted (if you can call it that) the top of the armoire. 4 years of dust. Yuck. I took apart the fan and gave it a good detail. I threw away a bunch of random things like baskets and candles and little stuffed bunnies (why do I have little stuffed bunnies in MY room?) and the like. I'm so over baskets, candles, fake flowers, ceramic figurines; basically anything whose main function is to attract dust. I put Laura, from Little House on the Prairie, in a box. I'm not going to throw her out...she is "Laura"  after all. Oh, I loved those books. When we go camping there is a tiny part of me who still pretends she is Laura. You don't have to tell me that's weird. I know. 

I cleaned out the humidifier. If I could invent the self-cleaning humidifier I would and I would be a rich woman. What is all that un-identifiable crusty gunk? But the good part is making my house smell like a swimming pool with all the bleach in the bathtub. Yum. I cleaned out the dirt cup thing in the vacuum cleaner twice. I love cleaning out that dirt cup. It's the best part of vacuuming. Not that there really is a "best" part of vacuuming, but if there were... Something about unlocking the little dirt holder and dumping it out and pulling out the filter and scraping and shaking the accumulation of dust off is oddly satisfying. I always want to vacuum it clean, but then I realize that what I want to vacuum IS the vacuum. What I really need is 2 vacuums in tandem. (That would be my 2nd idea for an invention in one day; how DO I come up with this stuff?)  (And how can I take these ideas and turn them into cash?)

I had 28 to be read books next to my bed; piled on, around, under, and next to my bedside table. Those are just the books: there were also a bunch of magazines and yet another cute, albeit dusty, bunny.  I shelved a few books, threw out the magazines (that was the hardest thing to do), and tossed the bunny. Then I stacked the 25 remaining books very symmetrically. They will stay that way for approximately 24 hours. 

All this before 2 p.m. I forgot to mention that Wes played fake sick today so he was kind of hanging around with me doing the fake sick thing. I have to pretend like I think he is sick, but he knows that I know that he isn't, and I know that he knows that I know he's not sick, but sometimes a kid just needs a day off. I think. 

But now, instead of reveling in my accomplishments I am not. Why? Two reasons: one, I am suffering either from food poisoning or something else that is causing my stomach to feel like it is doing jumping jacks inside my gut. Reason number two would be the fact that today I lost THE DIAMOND FROM MY WEDDING RING! And when I say THE, I mean the BIG one in the middle. (BIG in relation to the other teeny diamonds around it). And that is one want there is no turning into a need, no matter how I try. 

So, today, instead of a post where I explain all about the epiphany I've recently experienced, I wrote about the day where I cleaned where no man has cleaned before, recognized someone needed a day off, ate Rice Krispies for dinner, and lost a treasure. I gave up the baskets, the bunnies, the magazines, and some ceramic figurines; did I have to lose my diamond too?

Did I?

changing plans

This isn't a post pertaining to any significant event; just some Mary Ramblings. 

Today I had my list of things to do firmly set in the stone of my mind when my mojo began to crumble. I don't like my mojo being crumbled. It is a slippery, albeit rocky, slope. 

My first mistake was to change my routine and not run. I used the flimsy excuse that I didn't want to wake Jake: who's home for the weekend and whose bedroom is next to the "exercise" room. (too cold outside also ruled out running outside. I use that excuse frequently as well.)  As if I were ever that considerate. Bad choice, because running always makes my frown turn upside down. 

Things have gone out of kilter from that one choice. I don't know quite how it works; but if I change one thing in my routine everything from that point on suffers. 

My plan, (the set in stone one), was to go buy a dryer, pick up prescriptions, buy a birthday present for Wes's friend, and probably a couple of other random errands thrown into the mix.  

Yeah, well, as I am prepping myself for the day, I hear loud rambunctious banging on the front door but because I was not fully prepped I chose to ignore it. Then I hear the rambunctioness actually enter my home. It's some of Jake's friends (see, I could have exercised cause they woke up Jake). And while I love Jake's friends, they did contribute to the messing up of my mojo. Is it my fault that I hung out with Jake and his friends for an hour or so? 

I really did make a huge effort to get back on track though. I was getting my act together.  I even answered the phone and didn't let it distract me. I was on task. I was propelling forward. I was purposeful and ready to go. 

But the dryer is not the only thing that is broken. The Car. It is broke too. If I hate a broken dryer, I hate a broken car so much more. 

So I am now completely derailed. Once I have a plan it seems like I just can't get my groove back. I look around dazed and thinking what am I going to do now? It's not like there aren't a thousand things to do; I am just deflated. 

Here's what I did. I just gave up. I have been on facebook, reading random blogs, listening to the news, generally just wasting time. So I thought I'd waste some time here.  If you actually read this, then you wasted some time too. Misery loves company. 

*Do you realize how many random blogs there are? I could be derailed 24/7. I am definitely headed in that direction.

Piano

It's a right of passage. Piano lessons. 

My own journey with piano began when I was 5 years old. I remember that I was very excited and I loved it and I caused a lot of grief for my parents and my piano teachers. Because, while I loved the piano, I, like most, did not like the part about practicing. And somehow teachers can tell when you haven't  practiced. I do recall that one teacher requested that I not be her student any longer. I was a stubborn, contrary girl. 

I must have picked up something because I still love the piano. And while I certainly never became a great pianist, I did learn enough to really enjoy what I could play. Playing the piano is a great stress reliever. Any time I would play as a teenager I would have a better day. I also had a crazy delusion that Donny Osmond was going to walk up to our door, hear me playing, and ask me to marry him on the spot. Plus be on his show. (And to think that some 30 years later I would be sitting next to Donny Osmond in a movie theater...if only I'd brought my piano along...no, bad idea.) The best calling in the church is Primary Piano Player. Hands down. I have had that calling at the very least 10 years in total.

The three old ones, (Kristen, Jake and Jessie), all had their piano lessons from a wonderful woman named Marilyn. (Marilyn was the original "Darla" on the "Little Rascals" show. That is a long time ago, even for me.) She charged $5 a lesson and that was a real deal. (And it is also exactly as much as we could afford.) She was a great teacher; not a great motivator. She was just too darn nice. I'm not sure how K., J., &J., feel about piano. I will have to ask them. (I just now asked J. #2, and she says she wishes she could play the piano.) 

Wes began about 6 weeks ago and I am pretty sure the novelty has worn off. He is doing very well, passing off all the beginning songs as fast as a rabbit; but the realization that this is a skill to be learned and is not just handed to you is beginning to dawn. I know this is something Wes wants to do though because it is one of the few things he has to do that he isn't scheming for some way to be paid for for doing it. Lessons are now $15 each; but I think it will be worth it. He will succeed  because Wes is motivated, and his teacher is as well.

Writing this is making me want to pull out the Primary Songbook and play a few tunes. Yeah, I am that good. I wonder if Donny is out taking a walk tonight?

Apples and Penguins and a long story.

Yes. That is a pretty seriously weird picture. (It was taken by a seriously weird person.) The picture is to serve a two-pronged purpose. #1, to get you to read this post. And #2, it leads into a funny story. 

Funny story later.

You may be able to tell that I have been figuring some stuff out with this blog thing. I have added some new "gadgets" as they are known. If you are on the list and don't want to be, let me know. If you know someone who might want to be on the list, let me know. I want the list to be very long. I would love comments too, especially if they are nice. I will take constructive criticism if it is given in a loving manner. That applies always.

It is Wednesday, but it feels like Friday. Or perhaps Wednesday of next week. 

It all began Sunday with my eyes hurting. They hurt often because it is so dry here; but they were hurting in an unusual way. All sting-y and burny like. By Monday they were even more burny feeling for me, AND I also noticed that Wes' eyes were all bloodshot. Which usually means too much time playing video games, so I really didn't pay too much attention to that. BUT, he was in such a foul mood, not just normal kid bad mood. He was simply unbearable at times. 

But, Monday just wasn't a good day for any of us. Kevin and I realized last week that we had not registered the truck in November. We had had it inspected, just did not register it online. Miscommunication. We know from personal experience that you can get a ticket for that (let that be a warning to all of you), so after finding out it was too late to register it with the emissions info we had taken care of in November ($45), we had to have the emissions tested again.  Another $45; what a racket. It failed. Of course. Took it be fixed, part has to be ordered, ($65), take back to be fixed (on Monday), pick up and take back to be re-checked AGAIN. 

In between Jessie and I running back and forth with the truck (it takes 2 people to do all that car switching, you know what I mean) and dragging foul mood Wes with us while he tells us in no uncertain terms how evil we are, I am attempting to make a poster for Wes for his "star of the week" turn at school. (Whoever came up with "star of the week" should really reexamine the necessity of this tradition.) This making of the poster causes me untold grief and frustration. Plus my eyes hurt this entire time. Problems with flash drives, printers, computers in general, blahblahblah. Pure frustration. 

About 4 pm or so Jessie and I drove to Jiffy Lube to pick up the truck in what should have been the final chapter before finally registering it. We debated for a moment on who would drive the truck and who would drive my car. Jess took the truck; me, my car. She left before me, and I was following in case she was stopped by the police. (Because of the non-registration, not because she is routinely stopped by the police.) It could not have been 20 seconds later that I notice the traffic going all weird because there is a wreck ahead of me and then about 5 seconds for me to figure out it was Jessie that was in the wreck. I missed seeing the actual accident by about 2 1/ 2 seconds. (I was really watching the second hand on my watch.) I consider not actually seeing the accident a blessing. She was standing next to the truck so I knew she was okay; but the truck and car involved were not. The car pulled out in front of her as she was driving straight down the road and there was no way she could stop. She's okay, the other driver whose fault it was is okay. The truck not so much. May be totaled, but Kevin has high hopes that it will not. Nice guy who saw the accident called the police before I even stopped, another man stopped and offered to do CPR (Jessie was standing next to me; I'm not sure on whom he wanted to perform CPR); we called Kevin who fortunately works about a mile from there; the police FINALLY show up (aren't they supposed to be able to drive fast?) and did I mention it was FREEZING. 

Do you like how dramatic I am making this? When your kid is in an accident it is dramatic. And you mix feeling like crap, stupid star of the week poster, and Wes being a monster because he is getting sick all together you get drama. It is Wednesday and I have been staying home with a sick Wes. I feel like crap. I have to listen to star wars playing in the background constantly. And Hunter barks at his own poo. Kevin leaves for a week tomorrow. I deserve to feel dramatic. Or maybe pathetic.

Oh yeah, the funny picture with the funny story. When I asked Wes what he wanted for his birthday he said the usual Legos and Wii things which I expected, but then he had a couple of other requests. 

A talking apple and a live penguin. Look at the picture as more of a dramatic portrayal and not as an actual representation. Because that is one more thing I can't figure out on this whole blog thing. How to post pictures other than my own. Maybe you could help me out with that. If anybody would like to see Wes' poster, let me know, it never made it to school.

*Very Important P.S.* 

We are very fortunate that Jessie was not harmed in the accident. If you had seen the cars you would be surprised that no one was hurt. Jessie held herself very well during the entire time and I was really very proud of her. We all feel so blessed that it turned out that way it did. With my pessimistic way of expressing myself it may seem like am not grateful for our blessings. Tis not so. I just have a hard time with expressing revealing emotions. 

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

OCD

Yeah, I know I keep changing our page. I just can't find the perfect one. I'm kind of OCD about things like this. The polka dots are kind of bugging me and it may be too girly. And I keep having to change the colors of the fonts. You can't even read some of the type. Sheesh.  

Shall I venture into my other OCD's as well?

Or is it OCDS? I never know about the apostrophe thing. And it drives me nuts. nut's? nuts'?