Titles for the day...

Tiny didn't get the memo (hello sunrise!).
Why Handy Manny?!
You wanna do WHAT to my spine?
Anxiety in a needle.
Fix up the car, fix up the mama.
New tires or a vacation in Hawaii?
Who took away my Sunday afternoon nap?
Jacuzzi jets- watch out, they spit!
Pillaging Daddy D.O.'s house, quite the rush!
Time was far spent ; (
Didn't miss a NabloPoMo day- I haven't gone to bed yet! So there.

And my favorite:
Dear Sunday afternoon nap, where the hell were you??

How many days in November??

Well crap...look what I've gotten myself into with Nabloshmopo... I have been on the road all day, need to get some school work done, probably even go to bed and get some much needed rest. Instead, well? Here I am fulfilling my duty.

So I decided to take a trip up north to visit Willy D.O. (aka Daddy). Driving through Tennessee this time of year was...well, to be honest? A little disappointing this time around! I don't know if my outlook was poor (I'm still having some health issues and not much of a happy camper these days) or if all the trees and all the beautiful fall leaves were, well... just dying and rotting leaves, nothing even close to breathtaking as I remember from previous years of making the same drive.

Either I need an attitude adjustment or mother nature does!

Hopefully Willy D.O. will be able to work some doctor magic, get me feeling 110% again, and sprinkle some fairy dust on the trees and make them sparkle for my drive back home Monday. And not this fairy dust...the OTHER kind of fairy dust, ya know, like Tinkerbell and the Sparrowmen? Oh wait, dad doesn't wear green tights either. Damn. Nevermind. Skip the fairy dust part--go right for the touch of gold.

LIKE KING MIDAS!
Yes, that's the one.

p.s. before you go throwing stones at me... I've already done it for you. No need to say you feel my remarks were offensive. (And just for the record, there were men dressed as actual fairies in the pride parade-- hence the jog down memory lane!) So there.

Listen to instinct...

I know something has been nagging me lately, and I just haven't felt WELL.

Having run-ins with doctors, teachers, clients...I am reminded again and again of how important trusting my instincts can be. If something doesn't feel right, if something seems off...guess what?! I'm going to go with it because chances are my instincts are telling the truth. And trusting these instincts and following through with the promptings I am given can be a tough choice to make, but it's one that I will go with [despite your books, and your wisdom, and your research]--I will go with MY GUT.



Whether you call it mother's intuition, gut feelings, listening to your inner self or your conscience, or the whisperings of the Holy Spirit...all describe one thing: guidance for your actions. And my intuition is telling me something is not right. Maybe YOU are the one that needs to "listen".


My new mantra for this month (and possibly for the rest of my life):
“A few strong instincts and a few plain rules.”~ William Wordsworth

Dear department of transportation: YOU SUCK.

When my oldest started Kindergarten, (which made me unhappy to say the least)...the idea of sending her to school on the bus gave me a stomachache. I never thought I would be "that parent" standing out at the bus stop; I hated everything about the idea from the lack of seatbelts to the creepy old men that drove those things. However due to other adorable children (ahem) in our neighborhood, the idea of riding the bus eventually stormed into our household. I fought it for as long as I could, but I did indeed succumb to the beggings of a 5 yr old and allow her to step on that bus.

[Fast forward 4 years] Now all three of the munchkins are in school, and life has become simplified by riding that bus. While I am not happy that our bus route is the first one of the day and the last one in the afternoon, I still try to be grateful for having the capability to rely on public transportation when necessary.

[background info] My kids leave for school at 7:14 a.m. and return home at 2:56 p.m. (note that school is from 8:00 a.m. - 2:20 p.m.), not terrible but my kids are "second load" meaning they are the only route that has to wait until all the kids get dropped off first before being picked up from school (which is an extra 20-25 minutes of waiting). The fact that they have not changed this route in 4 years still pisses me off...my children are away from home much longer than they need to be already and yet they won't rotate the bus schedule so it's at least fair.

[fast forward to today]...imagine my surprise when the bus driver hands us a sheet with "bus stop changes", which also requires our children to be waiting at the corner of the neighborhood 5 minutes earlier than the new time.

OUR NEW TIME?! 7:00 a.m.

So let me get this straight...you already hoard my children before they've even had a chance to really wake up in the morning, you ditch them like leftovers in the afternoon, and now you want to start this whole process 15 minutes EARLIER?!

Look- let me put it this way, Mrs. "thank you for your patience in making this adjustment and ensuring your child's continued transportation needs are met" I have your number on speed dial and you are CRAZY if you woke up this morning thinking today is going to be a good day.

Year in Review (err Blog in review)

I lost my blog passion a couple years ago. [and let's be honest, it was replaced with FB obsession] But I once heard "obsession is the word lazy people use for dedication", so we'll just go with that!

In order to find myself (and to try to reconnect with the old me) I read through some old posts- and I have to say it was like discovering a different person!

I laughed in the middle of the night. I can't believe how self-deprecating I have been on this blog!! Now I'm convinced I have multiple personalities...I can't even remember writing these things, and while surfing through my archives, it was as though we had never met.

Hi. My name is Little Miss.

And I need to stick with the meds

and stay away from sharp objects.

80/20

My brother in-law called last night. I believe the timing was just what I needed. He shared a story with me...

The girls' room has been a disaster for a long time now. Every attempt we have made to get them to put their toys away, clean their room, make their beds, and put way their clothes has failed. We have bribed; we have rewarded; we have threatened; and yet still, we have failed. Finally (mother and father) decided the girls may choose 20% of what is currently in their room to keep in their room. The rest is getting boxed up. That's right. 80% of their clothes, toys, shoes, games, stuffed animals, dresses, and even underwear were boxed up and placed in the attic. The rule was made that if they could handle a simplified version of their room, slowly they could earn back some of their belongings. [And their room was bare bones of what it was before!] After the screaming and the fits, one of the girls came downstairs and said, "you know daddy, I kind of like my room now".

Pondering this story I can't help but think about how cluttered our lives can become. I can't count the number of times I have felt overwhelmed with my life and looked for ways to be rescued. Can you imagine if we were to box up of 80% of our time, our issues, our concerns, and our "freedoms" how great that 20% could become?? My brother in-law, being faced with great challenges over the past several years, suggested that perhaps trials are the Lord's way of sweeping out the 80% that bogs us down, teaching us what is truly important, and helping us to take care of the simplest 20%...and if we can manage, He just might bless us with the other 80.

yes- that SMELL?!

Having been pregnant three times, there are certain ummm...alterations my body has made.

1. I can wet my pants with a sneeze or two jumps on a trampoline (try me!)


2. My boobs sag like my grandma's (only hers were double EE's, mine are just double)


3. My gag reflex has been forever altered.

For example, if you cook fish in this house, if you cook eggs in this house, or if you cook fish AND eggs in this house, I will gag. If I change a really horrible diaper, chances are, I will gag. If there is something rotting in the backseat or in the garage or in the fridge, guess what? I will gag.



So do not be surprised if the smell of rotting cabbage (otherwise known as sauerkraut) being heated over the stove makes me GAG. It's not your cooking that is making me gag; it's your choice of ingredients.



And if I have to plunge the clogged toilet and scoop shit out by hand in order to get the thing to flush, do not be surprised if I run to the sink and gag and vomit. Even if it is only 5 minutes after the last time I gagged due to the rotting vegetables simmering in my kitchen...I am not saying your cooking is the equivalent of scooping SHIT OUT OF THE TOILET.



You made that connection all on your own, and I can't be blamed for the physiological changes my body has endured by carrying your children. I'm just sayin...we all have to make sacrifices.

Get with the times, or GET AWAY from the times?

Social networking has hit an all time high with the rising popularity of Facebook. [sounds like a CNN lead-in, right?] Well I tripped over my pajama bottoms and fell deep into the FB abyss months ago ((ok, ok-- years ago)) and have never really come out, except maybe a time or two to rival the curiosity I had been fighting.

It's true, FB became my "new blog" over the past couple of years. I started with a few friends, a few acquaintances. The numbers rose, I felt quite popular, and it wasn't long before I accepted "friends" that I had never met before. Now as a blogger, I was used to this. It didn't bother me that I had a wall full of people that knew nothing about me other than what I slapped in that 240 character space I called my own.

However the more people I accepted as "friends," the more conservative I found myself. And I did not like it! The more I relied on FB, the less I cared about my blog. I began to miss my freedom of expression. I missed venting without offending my family or the people I knew, or family who knew the people I knew but didn't know me or see me on a regular basis. (Not that my blog wasn't offensive in some ways...certainly it was!) But I was thinking last night, "I can be offensive if I wanna be because, well, it's my own personal corner of the world wide web and I'm not forcing anyone to read what I have to say. Besides, it's not like blogger has a graffiti wall or something!"

And that's when it hit me.

My Facebook page has become a grafitti wall!

It all makes perfect sense now. Because I am part of this FB network, I am subjecting all of my "friends" to the links I have posted and the words I have written. I can virtual slap someone across the face, I can virtual hug someone who is sad, and I can get into a virtual argument with the people I consider to be my "friends". The downfall? It's all public. [And my friends are your friends and your friends have friends that are friends with my friends and then they want to be friends with me so they can express their unwarranted opinions which offend my friends and suddenly we're all defriending each other and starting over.]

I think it's time for me to nurture my creativity once again (read: vent and bitch and gripe and moan without fear of repercussion). I have joined NaBloPoMo for this year in an attempt to keep my spirits motivated and my head clear. Wish me luck!

Interesting

I have no idea where my love of blogging has gone...probably down the drain along with some of those "priceless" friendships. I'm sitting here in the loft of my (new) old house wondering how in the HELL I ended up here?? I hesitate to look through my blogroll because it stirs up old memories, some good and some bad, but ALWAYS some regret. I don't like that I've lost touch with old acquaintances, HATE it that I've lost touch with old friends. My blog has become a graveyard and I think I need a fresh start. My life has changed. My friends have changed. My "need" for blogging has evolved into something completely different. I haven't fully decided if I want to delete this blog altogether and start a new one somewhere else? [Because, truthfully, it is still MY history--still very much a part of ME. So why would I want to throw it all away?] Then again, it's not me...not any more. And I deserve a breath of fresh air, not one filled with regret and constant reminders of past failures. [And sometimes, it just feels GOOD to take out the trash, ya know??]

If you want to find me- email me littlemissblogspot at yahoo dot com

If you have sent messages to littlemissblogspot (at yahoo) in the past and never heard back, I'm sorry. It's so filled with SPAM that I couldn't possibly pull my head out of my ass to sift through it all. My inbox will be deleted (another fresh start), and the new one will be listed soon.

That is all for now. Best wishes. Namaste. Alvederzane. (and all that flowery jazz).
Maybe I'll stick around. Maybe not.

Posting again- purely for selfish reasons!

Surfing the internet (fighting insomnia and losing) I came across this blog that could have come from my own notebook...if only I were as creative and fun to read that is-

C-Jane, Friday the 13th (Mean Mom)

I must say the secretaries at my children's school are truly AMAZING. I have stories, lots of stories but don't want to take away from this great post. Maybe another sleepless night, but not tonight.

Let's just leave it at this...I feel her pain having to walk into the office with all the children in tow and sheepishly signing the tardy slips! ROFLMAO (and I hate acronyms)!