Why is it that men get to do whatever in the heck they want to do whenever in the heck they want to do it? For some women, their husbands hunt. For some, they golf. Others have hobbies like skiing or fishing or boating. Some men run or bike or swim. There are those men who put together models or work on cars or watch every sporting event shown on television. Still others attend any game for which tickets can be found. Some men are musicians or artists or horsemen. ALL MEN have hobbies.

Many women have hobbies as well. I, for one, enjoy reading. I also love to shop and have Girls Night Out. I’d even go so far as to say that one of my hobbies is just piddling around the house. It makes me feel good!

The difference in men and women? Men choose when they’ll do their hobbies and let their wives know, assuming she’s available to watch THEIR children. Women ask permission, make sure that the man will, in fact, be at home, that he has not already made other plans. It’s universal. If you men ever wonder what we talk about under our breaths when we think you’re not listening, you now know. Many of the men I know are fantastic husbands, hands-on fathers, great providers…..Still the question remains - Why is that men get to do whatever in the heck they want to do whenever in the heck they want to do it?

Why do people have to talk so much and so loudly and with so much energy in the morning? It makes me feel like my skin will crawl right off of my body!!!! As I sit here and type, I hear singing. It’s not the singing of a favorite song; it’s the singing of every thought crossing one child’s mind. In between “verses,” every thought is spoken - loudly! As if that weren’t enough for an already-over-the-edge mom, there’s also a banging sound, a toy guitar being played, the television with goofy creatures making noises, and the constant chatter of another child trying to get a sibling’s attention. Oh, joy! Oh, rapture! “Hey, Mom! Hey, Mom! Hey, Mom!” Can I scream or would that be a bit much for a “normal” person? And this is after my mommy medications!! Should I pray for patience and calm? Or maybe deafness? Can God hear through all of the jumble in my head right now? Now, questions are flying my way.

Can I instate a rule that NO ONE speaks before school? We could sit together with no noise and just love on each other as we slowly get ready for the day. We could wander around the house getting out our breakfast, getting dressed, cleaning our rooms……. Is talk necessary for those things? More talk…..more questions…..more TV….. When does the bus get here? 30 more minutes? What time is it now? How many more minutes until quiet? Still 30….. “She’s (me) not going to answer me.” At least the hint is being taken. The noise doesn’t stop, though. Where is my sister-in-law’s recliner in a nice, dark, quiet place where she has her coffee, and no one speaks to her until she’s done? Maybe a new recliner would do the trick. Maybe I just need to start drinking coffee. How many more minutes? Watching the clock is like watching water boil. Nothing happens. The hands are stuck. The noise continues, though. It’s the same noise that I hear in the afternoon that makes me laugh. Why is it so painful in the morning? How many more minutes? 25 but who’s counting? I think this will be a “Don’t-answer-the-phone day!”

Well, I don’t have to worry about Grandmother’s family party anymore as she called today and cancelled it. She has a different idea for how she’d like to celebrate her birthday - high tea at her house on a different day entirely! Can I say, “DONE!!!!”

I’m planning a birthday lunch for my grandmother’s 90th birthday in August. The party will be back in Little Rock, and the original plan was to have her daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren attend. Simple, right? I contacted the restaurant, picked a date, put up the deposit, e-mailed the daughters and grandchildren, and got a head count. Voila!

Not voila! My grandmother thought that her church (one of the former pastors in particular) was also having a HUGE party for her. I tracked down that rumor only to discover that it was a figment of her 90 year old imagination. (This is the same imagination she has had her whole life!) Somehow, I ended up heading up a reception for her at her church as well. Granted, I have wonderful help and have to do very little at this particular stage of the game.

I contacted my grandmother to share the delightful news of her exciting day only to discover that she wants AT LEAST 300 invitations sent out for the church party. In addition, she would like to make the invitation list and okay the invitations before they go out. I explained to her that I would be sending out e-invites so she would need to get e-mail addresses as well. Supposedly, someone has already offered to do that for her. Hmmmm…….. She then informed me that she would like to be picked up in a limo by the three original pastors of her church since they did that when she was 80 years old. After letting her down gently that that was not really in the plan, I could hear the disappointment in her voice. Being the granddaughter who wants to make her grandmother’s day very special, I contacted those pastors and let them know her wishes. They, of course, were more than happy to comply. Now, I wait for the list of 300 names and e-mail addresses so that I can add that to my “simple little party.”

Just to make certain that things got as complicated as possible, the family party has snow-balled out of control as well. I want to be careful to say at this point that no one intentionally caused the avalanche, but it happened nonetheless. I now think that each person who has ever had any familial connection with Grandmother has been invited to the lunch that I was having for her daughters, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Now, I’m becoming frustrated - even a slight bit irritated - as no one wanted to throw any party for her at all. The person who wanted to throw a small lunch has now had a giant affair tossed into her lap.

As I was thinking through this whole mess, I remembered that I was “Susan” from Desperate Housewives, which is probably how I got this whole thing started to begin with. Way too much empathy! Now, I’m not feeling so much like Susan. In fact, I’m feeling like Bree. I’m in control, and it’s going to be my way or the highway! Have I ever mentioned that I take medication for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder?

Have you ever noticed that when you don’t have the extra money to be out shopping, that’s all you can think about? It makes me nuts!

Anyone who knows me knows that for me, shopping is not a hobby; it is definitely THERAPY! I shop when I feel happy. I shop to make me feel happy! Sometimes I shop because I’m bored and want to have a little fun. Other times, I shop because I want to be alone with my thoughts and disappear into the mall. Honestly, I LOVE to shop, especially by myself. Since it’s been so cold, I haven’t really wanted to get out and shop. I did shop some on the cruise, but I really haven’t been shopping in quite a while - not real, heavy-dutying shopping anyway! The thought of having to drive all the way to the mall (about 25 minutes away) hasn’t been very appealing to me lately. I’ve been very busy and just enjoyed the down time at home when I’ve had it.

The hibernation has ended, and I NEED TO GO SHOPPING!!!! I really NEED it! I NEED some new black mule boots. I also NEED some dark brown Uggs. I’m DESPERATE for a cute Spring/Summer bag, and I know exactly what I NEED. The problem is that for this one LOOOOOOONG month, I’m not able to shop. I knew a girl when I was single who hadn’t shopped for an entire year - not once! That girl is not me. I feel like I need to go to Shoppers Anonymous for the next two and a half weeks. I’ve already made it two weeks on my own, but I just don’t know how much longer I can wait.

I even told Rowland last night that we NEED a rug and some curtains for our living room. Granted, we’ve lived without them for almost a year, but now the situation has become desperate. I don’t know if I can live without them! Rowland reminded me that I had determined that we weren’t going to shop during March. Ugh! Why do my own words have to bite me on the butt? Then, I began to panic. If I buy the rug and curtains in April, I won’t be able to shop for the other things that I NEED to go out and find. It’s basically a search and rescue operation!

All of this may seem shallow, but the truth is, I AM A SHALLOW PERSON when it comes to shopping. It’s therapy! Really! And I NEED A FIX!!!

“Ever told your child, ‘We’ll do it tomorrow,’ and in your haste, not see his sorrow?”

This quote really touched my heart. I also saw on a friend’s blog how she has loosened up as a parent (Thanks, Bronwyn!). She had a picture of her three children at her kitchen table with paints galore. She wrote about how she used to not even let her children have markers. Paint was for school where others could clean up the mess. I could so relate. I can’t tell you how much play-doh I’ve thrown away in my children’s lifetimes. I, too, almost never have paint around the house. They might make a mess. Post-it notes are a disaster waiting to happen in our home. I know as soon as I buy them that they will one day be stuck all over the walls of someone’s bedroom, my kitchen, or the den.

Have I loosened up? Sure. If I hadn’t, I’d lose my mind. Try making four children act as OCD as you are. Not possible. It’ll send you right over the edge. Quite literally! Everything doesn’t ALWAYS have to be in its place, although it does have to end up there on occasion. I’ve even given in to allowing my children to have one drawer or container that makes no sense whatsoever, full of all sorts of odds and ends. That’s huge for me!

I’m still bad about telling my children that we’ll do things “tomorrow” or “next time.” I want to get better. I’m trying to get better. They don’t always make it easy, though. For the past several days, I’ve been trying to watch a two-disc movie of “Little House on the Prairie.” When KeKe and I rented it last week, I was excited to watch it with her. I’ve enjoyed every time we’ve laid down together to see it. The problem is that she wants only the two of us to watch it together. It shouldn’t be a huge deal since everyone watched the whole thing on the way to Breckenridge and on the way back this weekend; however, reality is that there are six people living in this house, and they all like me (most of the time anyway).

Tonight, KeKe and I laid on the bed next to Rowland to watch the last segment of the movie. All was fine, and I was enjoying cuddling up with my princess. About 20 minutes into the movie, Jia came in and laid down on the bed next to me - on the opposite side of where KeKe was. Several minutes passed before KeKe realized that her sister had joined us. Jia hadn’t spoken; KeKe hadn’t had to move over or been affected in any way. Upon noticing her sister, KeKe immediately threw a silent fit, turning her back to me and saying, “It’s not fair!” I tried to calmly talk to her and make her see that nothing had really changed. Waste of air! She just kept throwing her silent fit, occasionally making a jerking movement with her body and saying, “It’s not fair!” Maybe I over-reacted, but it ticked me off. She was just being a spoiled brat. I told her to go to her room. She stomped around and made lots of noise getting there, still screaming and crying, “It’s not fair!”

Let me tell you what’s not fair! I wanted to watch the movie with her, to cuddle up together and enjoy the ending. I was enjoying our special time. I had made a point for several days not to say that we’d wait until tomorrow or next week or some indefinite time to watch the movie. What’s not fair is that my night was ruined. Maybe I know now how my children feel when I put them off and tell them to wait. Maybe I understand their sorrow a little better. Bottom line, it wasn’t fair!

I HATE IT when I don’t have all of “my people” at home under one roof!!!! Rowland left a few minutes ago for Costa Rica. I don’t even know where Costa Rica is on the map. I don’t know what it’s like there. All I know is that it’s far away from here, and I can’t picture it in my mind. All I know is that all of “my people” won’t be together again until after school on Friday, and it sucks!

Why is is that I feel like all is well, and everyone is safe as long as we’re together? I don’t think it has anything to do with trusting God more during those times. I think it has to do with trusting Rowland more during those times. Intellectually, I know that God is in control at all times and that if He desires to take any one of us home at any time, He will. We could all be curled up on the couch together, and one of us move on to Heaven while the rest of us remain on the couch. Truth is that fear is the opposite of trust, and God wants me to trust Him all the time - not just when one of us has left the fold. Unfortunately, I don’t do that so well.

Rowland’s my best friend, and I miss him when he’s gone, but more than that, I just want to know that he’s coming back. I want to be able to picture exactly where he is so that I can feel like he’s safe. I guess it’s time for some “putting my money where my mouth is,” “sucking it up” (thanks, Carrie), and trusting God to protect Rowland and to protect us while we’re apart. After all, He’s in charge, and I’m not! And sometimes I just HATE IT!!!

The Love of My Life!!

I first became a practicing bulimic when I was 20 years old. I had a crappy boyfriend who actually encouraged me to throw up. That, coupled with a low self-image and about 30 extra pounds, plunged me into the world of binge-eating and purging.

For those who don’t understand eating disorders, there’s a great book called Understanding and Overcoming Anorexia and Bulimia. After the birth of my first child almost 13 years ago, I was a stay-at-home mom who was obsessed with getting back my pre-pregnancy body. After all, that was my identity. I NEEDED to feel sexy and appealing to others - first and foremost, above all else. As my bulimia took over my life more and more, I knew that I had to get help. I knew for the first time that I was killing myself. I would take my newborn baby to the grocery store and buy Captain Crunch cereal, marshmallows and Rice Krispies for Rice Krispy Treats, chocolate candy bars, ice cream, Velveeta and Rotel for cheese dip, and chips, then go home to eat all day and throw up all day. By the time my husband got home from work, I was a wreck. My electrolytes were screwed up so that I physically and emotionally felt wretched. When I would feel that familiar feeling, I would quickly feed my body some peanut butter to get myself back in balance. I was terrified of going into a coma or passing out with the baby by myself. I finally began counseling at 29.

I’d love to say that I completed counseling and never had another episode. The reality of an eating disorder is much different than that. Unlike an alcoholic who avoids alcohol completely, a person with an eating disorder still has to have daily encounters with food. The body image issues are deep rooted, often related to various situations in childhood. In my opinion, a person never fully recovers from an eating disorder. Instead, you just acquire the tools needed to keep it under control.

For me, I avoid Mexican food most of the time. Cheese dip is a huge “trigger” food for me. Ice cream is another one. Junk cereal is also a trigger for me. Pizza used to be, but thankfully, I’ve learned to enjoy it in moderation. Seldom will you find “trigger” foods in my house. I used to feel bad for Rowland and the kids that they can’t have these things around, but I’ve learned that my health, both physical and mental, is more important in their lives than their being able to have ice cream any time!

I’ve also learned through the years that I become very anxious when a special occasion is coming up. Preparing for the cruise that we’re going on in February is an excellent example. Rowland and I will have 9 days together in the sun! I’m excited, but the stress of wearing a bathing suit, wearing evening gowns, fitting into my shorts, and just feeling good about my body while we’re on this “special” vacation have thrown me into a whirlwind of distressing thoughts. Instead of being able to buckle down and make good food choices and work out a little more consistently, I become obsessed with all of the bad choices that I make, causing me to make even more bad choices, causing me to end up back in the binge/purge cycle. Yes, at 42 years old as a mother of four and the wife of a pastor, I still fall into the trap! The good news is that I recognize the warning signs, and I’m able to get myself out of the hole before I get into a longterm cycle.

I have a very good friend who has been placed in my life partly because of her healthy attitude about her body and dieting. She has helped me IMMENSELY. She doesn’t have a size 2 perfect body, but she’s a very pretty girl who is very healthy. She doesn’t obsess about whether or not her “skinny jeans” fit. When she decides she needs to lose a few pounds, she just gets on a healthy eating plan and does it. Or she doesn’t do it. Either way, she doesn’t allow her weight or size to keep her from making choices about whether or not she’s going to enjoy life. She controls her weight; it doesn’t control her. (You know who you are, and I LOVE YOU!!!)

I HATE that I can’t look in a mirror and feel good about what I see looking back at me. I HATE that when I think about being intimate with my husband, I worry about what he’ll see or feel. I HATE that I feel uncomfortable even going to the mall or to the school to volunteer if I’ve gained even 2 -3 pounds. I HATE that when I think about going on vacation with my husband and two of our closest friends, I worry about what I’m going to look like in my bathing suit. I want to feel good about who I am, not what I look like. God has done a lot of work on me, but I’ve definitely not “arrived.”

I’m not sure why I felt led to write about my struggles, but now I’ve done it. Perhaps someone will read this and be encouraged, not feel alone. Satan loves for us to hide our crap, to feel ashamed. While he may still have small victories in my body image department, he won’t defeat me! And I won’t quit fighting to make sure that my girls don’t have the same issues that I have. I want to be a positive role model for them, to encourage them to feel healthy, not to strive for “skinny.” Someday, I want to ask my husband, “Do these jeans make me look fat?” and believe him when he says, “no.”

I can always tell when my kids are really tired because they end up in tears over things that really don’t matter. I know that they hate it when I say, “Baby, you’re tired. You need to go to bed or take a nap.” They always disagree. “I’m NOT tired!” Of course, the tears continue, proving to me that they really are tired. Why do they fight it so much?

I recognize this in my children because I have the same problem. When I’m tired, I cry or at least I feel like crying. Sometimes, I can’t cry so I get really agitated. Last night, I was walking the dog at 9:45. I hadn’t stopped all day. It hadn’t been a bad day, but I was really tired. I felt the sudden rush of tears, but I reminded myself that it was a waste of energy to cry. Besides, my mom always told me that I was really ugly when I cry, and I always get a headache after crying. Instead, I yanked the dog on the leash and hollered at her to hurry up! Sensing my anger now directed towards her, she tucked her tail and did nothing. Good work, Kitty! Since I realized that abusing the dog wasn’t going to help, I found the snow shovel and began to beat the crap out of the ice on the stairs in the backyard. (I’ve fallen several times - in my hiking boots - so I had a lot of anger towards that ice!) I’m sure my neighbors appreciated the noise while they were already in bed. I didn’t care, though. I was mad at all of the people who COULD be in bed! Eventually, all of my work was done, and I was able to curl up in bed. I wanted to savor the time, but instead, I fought my eyes to stay awake.

I guess I’m still tired this morning. Little Kitty has been asking me for several weeks to switch the seats around in the van so that she can crawl in and out easier. I switched them before so I knew how to do it. While in the garage, I gathered up the odds and ends lying around and threw them in the trash. I came in and emptied the litter box and all of the trash cans as well. Back in the garage, I began working on the seat. It was actually very easy to remove; however, when I moved it over to the middle of the van, I dropped the back metal pieces into the slots on accident. (When you place the seat, you have to place the front metal pieces first, then lower in the rear ones.) Try as I might, I could not get the stupid back of the seat removed again. Eventually, with tears streaming down my face, I smashed my finger, the one I was flipping myself off with!! I just sat there in the car by myself and cried and cried - just like my babies do!

When I came inside, I wanted to call Rowland to cry to him, but I knew how ridiculous I would sound. “Honey, I smashed my finger, and it really hurts. I can’t get the ********* seat placed correctly because I screwed up…….” I knew what he would think. “You’re tired, baby. Go get back in bed and take a rest.” I know this because that’s what I tell my children.

A few minutes later, he called me. I told him what had happened, then started to cry. “I’m really tired…..” He told me just what I knew he’d say, “Go get back in bed and take a rest.” The only problem is that I have errands to run, laundry to do, a dog to feed and walk, bills to pay, etc., etc. Sometimes I just get tired of feeling tired. It’s frustrating! Even as I type, my dog is upstairs barking to get out of her kennel, the bills are waiting to be paid, my shower is calling as are the errands, the sheets are on the floor waiting to be washed, and the suitcases I’m giving to a friend are in the back of the car waiting to be taken to the church. I still have my groceries and some hairspray to buy. By then, it’ll be time to pick up Carson, then the little ones after Spanish, then dinnertime, clean sheets put on the bed, walking the dog several times, cleaning up the kitchen, helping my babies get in bed, working out, and finally crawling into bed around 9:00 (if I happen to be lucky!).

I know it sounds like I’m whining, but the truth is, I wouldn’t change my life with anyone else’s in the world. I just know that for at least the next 13 1/2 years (when Jia graduates from high school), I’m going to be tired. Hopefully, my husband will still be compassionate enough to tell me, “Go get back in bed and take a rest.” And when he does, I’m going to do just that - with tears running down my cheeks!

Our elementary schools are going from a traditional schedule to a four-track schedule. Basically, this means year-round school with breaks during the year. Carson, of course, will stay on a traditional schedule so it’ll be a little tough for planning family trips, etc. The worst part is that my babysitter will be in school when I need him the most! Who’s supposed to raise these kids of mine?

Last night, Amy and I went to a meeting at the school. I have to say that I was disappointed when I found out the schedules were changing. As a matter of fact, we only looked at houses within our schools’ boundaries because we wanted all of our children on the same schedule. Obviously, I have no control over the schools. Overcrowding is a huge problem, and track scheduling is the only answer. Just accept it and move on! Naturally, some of the people at the meeting last night weren’t able to do that!

Amy and I got so tickled as we listened to this one lady ask TWICE why the school district hadn’t noticed that all of these new houses were being built and that we would need a new school; therefore, they should have gotten a bond and started building a new elementary school. Why didn’t they? Well, they just didn’t. Well, why not? Hello, they just didn’t! Move on! You can keep wishing they had, but that changes nothing. Or as Amy put it, “If wishes and buts were candy and nuts, we’d all have a very merry Christmas!” I suggested that the lady run for the state legislature. I’ll vote for her if she wants the job!

The next incredibly enlightened person wanted to make sure that since she had been in the district longer, she would have preference over the rest of us “newcomers.” After all, she’s been in the district for 6 years, and we’ve only been in the district since May. What? The poor lady in front of me told us that she only had a kindie so she couldn’t have been in the school district but this one year. I told her that she was being punished for not bearing children sooner and that the “old” people would obviously be given preferential treatment! In the end, Amy and I called for a vote to let the woman have whatever track she freakin’ wanted just so she would shut up! (Not.)

There were actually some people who were concerned about how long children would have for recess and if they’d have enough time to eat their nutritious lunches. First of all, those moms have obviously never been in a school cafeteria or they would know that kids talk. They don’t eat! And as for the length of recess, I thought that they went to school to learn. I never realized that recess was such a vital part of the school day. (So much for that education degree of mine.)

I think my favorite part of the meeting was when I raised my hand to help the room clarify the order of preference. My dear, precious, always-standing-beside-me friend actually scooted over a seat away from me just in case someone might think we were together!! Talk about true friends!!

So where does it all stand? The same place it stood before the meeting! I do feel sorry for those parents who are working and have to figure out childcare for all of the little breaks. (I also hope that God doesn’t try to use me in this area! Not my calling!!!!!!) Bottom line, though, is (in Amy’s words), “Deal with it!”