A New Development

Now look what's happened.

"There must be a weakness in the bag" she said to herself.

"Who are you callin' a Bag?" she replied.

And she went back and forth like that for a while, well, at least until the candy was finally unwrapped.

Wicked Little Sweet Tooth

If I were a dog, I would NOT be the kind of dog that you could put it's entire day's worth of food out in a dish and expect there to be any left for a mid morning snack.  I would be the kind of dog that you'd have to ration out each meal, and limit it's treats to only after it went for a walk or after letting the kids tug on it's ears without biting them.

That's why I put all that Halloween candy in a bag on top of the fridge. That's also why I tied a knot on the bag. Because I'm the kind of dog that can't self-ration. If I didn't tie a knot in the bag, do you know what would happen? I do. It'd go like this:

At first, I would just open it once and take one little fun sized bar. That'd be it. I'd knot the bag back up and put it on top of the fridge.

Then I'd come back ten minutes later and take just one more fun sized bar, but in a different flavor.

Then three minutes later, I'd come back and grab one of each flavor, and keep one on the counter so I wouldn't have to un-knot the bag again.

Then two minutes later, I'd come back and grab two pieces of candy and leave the bag open.

Next thing you know, I've thrown caution to the wind and the bag of candy is in my lap and I'd unwrap the next candy before the first one is even chewed up.

Theoretically speaking of course, that's what could happen.

Meet My Nemesis

There she is. Up in that white plastic boutique bag on top of the fridge.

Her name is

Halloween Candy

and

I love her

and

I hate her

and

she's the reason I'll be hiding in my closet while the children fight over which cartoon to watch

and

she's the reason I'll have to go to The Club two extra times this week because while I was

hiding in my closet eating of her bounty, I tried on a pair of pants that fit two days ago, and now they won't button.

That's My Kind of Retirement Plan

This one is kind of out of left field:

What seems like a lifetime ago, certainly before kids (which is really two lifetimes), I used to live four blocks away from a retirement living community. Looking back now, I think it may have been more like a senior center that had apartments attached. Anyway, people kept telling me about this Donut Day there.

Every Thursday, the seniors would make fresh donuts. Apparently, they were super delicious and very cheap.  Being the one in my office that lived closest to the senior center, I was the designated donut picker-upper. My first time going, I had a warm fuzzy feeling. What a great program. Keeping seniors active, providing a place for them to meet. A little way to make some money for new programs and activities.

I walked up to the women with the cash box and told them I'd take a dozen donuts. I smiled at them, imagining my best friend and I together at that age. Chatting it up over coffee while manning the front door and handling the cash. I handed one of them a ten dollar bill. It was one of the "new" ones with the different colors. She took it with a suspicious eye and turned to her friend. "Are they taking these yet?"  "Nope" the other one replied.  As she handed the bill back to me, she asked if I had any other bills explaining "The slot machines at the casino don't recognize these yet. You got something else on you?"

I left a little less warm and fuzzy, but definitely with a different picture of my retirement.

Show Stopper

I put a show on at The Club today.

I didn't mean to.

There I was just minding my own business

when WHOOSH

a lady pulled open my shower stall curtain.

I tried to act all nonchalant.

I mean it does happen to me all the time,

at home at least,

by people wanting to know where their Dora doll is,

but never by a small woman who would ask me

"How's the water pressure in there?"

Depression isn't just for the suicidal

12 Things I Didn't Know About Depression....Until I figured out that I had Depression

I want to predicate this post with just a few thoughts. I do think that untreated depression can spiral out of control to fatal outcomes. I am thankful I haven't seen that kind of darkness. For me personally just getting to a point of recognizing there was a problem took a very long time. Maybe even up to a year. Tracking feelings and behaviors was a good start. Having a loving husband and supportive mother willing to help sort things out was and is key. I personally had a lot of preconceived notions about what "depression" was, so for a long time, I wrote it off as not being applicable to me. This post is just about that: addressing my own preconceptions about Depression.

1. You don't have to have suicidal thoughts to have depression

2. You can still think things are funny when you have depression

3. Depression and Anxiety are good friends and like to show up to the party holding hands

4. You don't have to sit on a couch and talk about your parents with a guy in an ugly cardigan to be treated for depression.

5. You can have a perfectly sweet life and still have depression

6. Depression isn't something to be ashamed of, even though it is really hard to talk about

7.  Feeling angry can be a symptom of depression/anxiety

8. Being told you have Depression is depressing, but telling people who love you about it creates a necessary support system

9. You don't have to figure out the "source" (if one even exists) to begin to move out of "that place"

10. There are times when drugs are better than hugs; seasons of depression/anxiety are one of those times.

11. Depression / Anxiety does not feel like that bummed out lady in the commercials that just walks around under a rain cloud so much as it does a really tiring wrestling match.

12. Keeping even a semi-clean house is virtually impossible with untreated depression. (Surely there's a study out there that can confirm this for me.)


My hope for you friends, is that when seasons come into your life when things are a real and constant struggle, that you be honest with yourself about how you are feeling. That you not let scary labels like "depression" and "anxiety" keep you from seeking the counsel of friends, family, therapists or medical professionals. 


"Oh God, grant that I might feel your strength this day. May I have the courage to face what is before me. Keep my heart light and filled with love. Amen."

Vacation Smaycation

Last week, our little brood was handed a 3 night stay at the Waldorf in Key West. It was a part business, part customer appreciation event that My Chef's co-worker had to cancel on at the last minute, so we gladly filled in.

When our Tazmanian Princess was just a wee little bundle of fat rolls, we used to go to "the lake" for long weekends. Inevitably during our 3 or 4 days away from home, My Chef would say something like "this vacation isn't very relaxing."  It was around this time that we realized that just because we didn't have to go to our respective jobs, didn't mean we'd get to be on vacation from all of our duties. The term "family vacation" really just meant that we'd be parenting in a different location.

Well, we had sort of forgotten this little anomaly. I mean just a few months ago, we'd spent two gloriously relaxing weeks in Minnesota. It was so dreamy. So last week we filled our car with sand toys and life jackets and snacks. We filled our heads with dreams of beach side massages and hammock naps. We were ready to have a mini version of our Minnesota vacation.

Eight minutes into our 7 hour car ride, the eye twitching started.  Twelve minutes later I was starting to doubt that we would even make it to our destination, little lone be able to enjoy three days on an island with two savages. 

We ended up having some serene moments. Some moments when our vacation really did seem like a vacation. Some moments sandwich in between the fighting and screaming and havoc wreaking, that we thought would be enough to fuel us on our 7 hour return car ride home.

But the next time we want our family vacation to be relaxing...we'll bring a grandma along.



There's Glitter Everywhere

Last year, I made a promise to myself and my children that I would put just a hair more effort into the holidays this year.  That we would get into the spirit of things by putting up those window cling skeletons and actually carve our pumpkins.

Well, it's a tad too early for the pumpkins.

But a few days ago, because it was raining non-stop,

because I couldn't bear to go to The Club one more day,

because My Chef was out of town for three whole days...

We bought our halloween costumes.

We entered The Boutique with the full intention of purchasing pirate costumes. The Taz had been talking about being Pirate Izzy and Daddy would be Captain Hook and Maggie could be Cubbie. All from Jake and the Neverland Pirates cartoon. I apparently was going to have to duke it out with her BFF for the role of Mr. Smee.

But then,

we entered the store

and there were dresses

they were shiny and had pearls on them

and tiara's and wands

and no,

they never wanted to be pirates

they'd always wanted to be

PRINCESSES!!

and yes,

Maggie needs the same exact dress

and WINGS!

everyone knows princesses have wings

And everyone knows The More, The Merrier

So we had an impromptu princess par-tay.

And everyone knows that princesses need mice to turn into horses to pull thier coach....

And since they got glitter everywhere, I turned into the Wicked Witch and made the wee-est one do chores.



And I was Runnnnane

You know how you can walk behind someone and think man, they're totally built for swimming. You could insert any sport. There are some folks out there that just have that natural athletic build.  Me personally, I feel like maybe I was made with "floating" in mind. And maybe not just on my own accord, but with a large cushy inner tube below me. 

That's why today, when I finished my second ever Treadmill 5k in 36 minutes, I threw my hands up in victory. I didn't really think I was going to run that far today. I mean, I had a cinnamon roll the size of my head and a pot of coffee for breakfast. I thought that by the time I got to The Club, I would be on a downward spiral toward Sugar Crashville. I even brought a book to read on the couch in the locker room in case I used up my last bits of energy checking the children into the kid's club.

But my shoes were on and my iPod charged, so I halfheartedly stepped up to my station. I had been running intervals (run walk run walk) the last few weeks (ok months); but when my first interval was up, I kept going. And then I kept going some more. Then Adam Lambert started singing What do ya want from me  into my ear and I found myself mouthing the words and nodding. Yeah? What do you want from me?  I looked at the mile marker, I was half a mile from finishing a 5k! What!

When I crossed the finish line I threw my jazz hands up in the air and shouted TAKE THAT YOU STINKIN' MACHINE!!  WHOOO HOOO! KER PLOW!  I have no idea why I yelled ker plow. It just seemed appropriate. I finished up my 2 minute cool down walk with some golfer style fist pumping and a bit of a pimp limp. Thankfully no one around me seemed to notice as most of that celebrating happened just in my head.

Why I love a good home made birthday card.

Today would have been my dad's 79th birthday.

So I am going to celebrate all of the things

that I loved about him

and all of the things that he gave to me.

This is a birthday card he gave me when I turned 19.

That he probably spent an entire day at work, cutting and pasting and xeroxing,

makes this one of my most prized possessions.

That his words can still fill my heart with such joy, gratitude, love and longing,

make this piece of paper more precious than gold.

And this is why I love a good home made birthday card.