my response to why i tell the family about the blog…

Everyone had such great points why NOT to divulge my little haven…that I felt an ENTIRE POST was needed to respond.

So, to bring you into my world for a minute…

Let’s start with a story.

Back in high school, around driving age, I was dating this boy.

Said boy went to a different church than me. Some Sundays, I would go to HIS church instead of the one my family and I had gone to since I was like, three.

On the days I went to the boyfriend’s church, we would bring home a program with the Sunday Sermon to be prepared to answer the, “so what’d you hear/learn/do in church today?” questions from my mom.

Because we said we were going to church. And she expected we would have some sort of information about our morning’s lifted-up-by-the-Holy-Spirit experience.

One particular Sunday, we decided NOT to go to the service. At this point, I don’t even remember WHY we didn’t go. I guess we had some sort of urge to ruffle our rebellious feathers.

Our perfectly crafted plan – developed in the teenager typical five minutes -went something like this: We attended Sunday School for Teens…where mostly you goof off for an hour…so we could say we actually WENT to church. After gossip hour, we walked by the sanctuary and picked up a program sitting in a wicker basket by the door so we’d have PROOF. DOCUMENTATION of our participation.

Then we turned our heels and walked right out of the double doors.

We drove over to his house and waited for “church hour” to tick by so we could go back to MY HOUSE for lunch. Because my mom made the good lunches. And his mom never went grocery shopping. So there was never a discussion on which house to go to.

Mine won. Always.

So, at noon sharp, we make the trip over to my house and saunter into my finished basement, feeling smug like we’d just pulled one over on EVERYONE because WE DIDN’T GO TO CHURCH but would have everyone believing otherwise.

Because we were home exactly fifteen minutes AFTER CHURCH WAS OVER.

Because we were smart enough to pick up a PROGRAM FOR THAT DAY.

We sat on the couch and watched TV. Waiting on my mom and brothers to get home from their church service.

About ten minutes later, my mom walks in, lugging grocery bags from an impromptu trip to the grocery store after church.

The first words out of her mouth weren’t “What would you like for lunch?” or “LOOK! I went grocery shopping!” or “Make yourself useful and help me with these!”

It was: “So, how was church?”

START PLAN OF PRETEND CHURCH ACTION.

AND WOW…did we feed her a load of bull shit. Completely plausible, of course, because it was all right there, in the program. Backing us up.

Then she says, “Really? Sounds like it was a great sermon!”

We smile like we’ve just gotten away with murder.

“IT WAS. Life changing, I tell you. Absolutely amazing.”

My mom drops the grocery bags, stands straight up and looks ME square in the eye and says, “Oh! Guess who I RAN INTO AT THE GROCERY STORE?”

I’m all, “I have no idea?! A clown? The Pope!? Maybe one of the Beatles??…”

She says nothing.

Still…quiet…boyfriend is no longer rattling off whatever Bible verses he could remember and is instead looking at the floor and shuffling his feet.

I start sweating…unable to make myself speak…to defend myself…to come up with SOMETHING to say.

Mom: “I ran into Joey’s MOM!”

(Joey was a friend of my then boy friend…whose ENTIRE FAMILY were members and devout Sunday worshippers at the church we skipped out on)

I just continued to stare at her…silently praying to the God I left in favor of watching TV this day to allow me this ONE chance to slide by and I swore I’d never skip out again on church or step on another ant or blame my brothers for something I did ever, EVER again.

Mom: “Funny thing, she said the sermon was wonderful…yet…she didn’t SEE either of you today at church.”

And that was it. We were hung right out to dry and suffered the consequences.

We’ll just say “lunch” wasn’t exactly served that Sunday.

Ratted out in one of the most IMPOSSIBLE SCENARIOS.

Because of course, MY MOM and JOEY’S MOM would need something from the EXACT SAME GROCERY STORE in the EXACT SAME AISLE at the EXACT SAME TIME AFTER CHURCH.

And the two churches…by the way, were MILES APART with about five different grocery store options between the two.

I never lied to her again…because it didn’t matter WHAT IT WAS.

She found out.

The “happenings” in my life are like a horribly twisted six degrees of separation. She knows somebody who knows somebody who knows the cousin of the uncle’s child twice removed who READS THIS BLOG.

So – the whole point of this story…

I tell THE FAMILY about the blog because even if I don’t…they’ll find out. And I learned in high school that it’s easier to deal with it BEFORE than to hide it and have the motherly wrath bestowed upon me.

I’ll take my punishment up front. Thanks.

Hey, at least I was honest.

honesty…the best policy…only on my blog

I’d like the entire blogging world to know: I am more honest with you than I am my own family.

I’ve ignored my dad’s friend request on Facebook JUST so he doesn’t find my blog and read it.

Sad, I know.

Cowardly, I know.

Pathetic, I KNOW.

I think I’m just going to bite the bullet and accept him as a friend.

It is so much easier to just blurt it all out on here…because what do I care?  It isn’t like I have to sit in front of a jury and face my words.

Granted, a published book will bring me all that much closer to the scrutiny. 

And believe me, I’m working through that in my head…preparing myself for the “if” and “when” and “how will I answer for….”

You take the good with the bad, I suppose.

i got someone in trouble. oops

A girl from work – Lisa- is having some serious car issues. As in: it doesn’t START unless someone is there to jump her off (The CAR….come on now…stay with the story).

So, the past two days, her husband and kids have driven in their other car to make sure, you know, she actually MAKES IT TO WORK.

Why she doesn’t just take the car that works… I haven’t the slightest… not my life… not my problem…not my decision.

So, anyway, back to this morning.

She and I get to work before anyone else except the vending machine guy. And he has to wait for us or he sets off the alarm… which calls the cops… and he’s already been reprimanded… so he waits to avoid uncomfortable questioning like, “You’re here doing…what, exactly?” Nevermind the truck full of carbonated beverages and preservative-laden snacks…

Well, this morning I was running a bit late and Lisa was already inside. As I got out of my car, I see this little Honda driving around the empty parking lot.

I freak out thinking it’s some crazy person about to abduct me and I end up a Dateline special…so I half walk, mostly run… to the front door, whip it open and rush inside.

Safe.

I find Lisa in the mail room and I’m all, “is your husband outside again?”

Lisa: “Yup.”

Me: “That’s a relief. I was wondering who would be driving their car around an empty parking lot.”

Lisa: “He better not be! Wasting gas and all!”

I just smiled like, “I get your point. At least have a destination in mind…” and starting making a cup of coffee.

Lisa promptly left and went back to her desk – which is within earshot of the mail room.

About a minute later, as I walk out of the mail room to go back to my office, all I hear is an evil-I-mean-business voice, rivaling the devil himself, saying: “YOU BETTER NOT BE DRIVING THAT CAR AROUND!”

Sorry, Lisa’s husband.

I think I just ruined your fun and put you in the dog house.

chocolate chips are banned from our house

Tim and I aren’t allowed to purchase ANY form of chocolate chip without telling the other.

Because of these

Tim’s ginormous cookies - worth about ten days’ of calories and a month of fat.

BUT SO GOOD.

We don’t do “regular” cookies.  They don’t come out right.

And we’ll continue to make them…night after night… until all the chips are gone.

Last week, Tim tried to calculate the caloric content of said cookies. 

He comes to me and says, “Do you want to know HOW MANY CALORIES AND GRAMS OF FAT ARE IN THIS THING??”

Me: “Don’t ruin my cookie experience.  I’d like to remain ignorant.”

Tim: “But it’s HUGE! One serving of chocolate chips is only SIXTEEN CHIPS!….and we use HALF A CUP for every batch!….(all of TWO cookies, by the way).

Tim: Why do they do that, anyway?…  Why not, I don’t know…a tablespoon or an ounce of chips…it’s more accurate…easier to calculate…”

I say nothing.  I just look at him, watching his brain work through this measurement conundrum.

Tim: “I mean…SIXTEEN CHIPS.  What if they have a batch that’s all out of spec and they’re bigger or smaller than they should be when they measured these sixteen chips?”

That’s my manufacturing husband for you. 

Only he would think of something like that.

a post…from work

I’m having one of those moments where… I just don’t feel like doing anything… completing
projects for deadlines that aren’t mine… and writing just sounded like a better option.

Which, by the way, is impossible to do with people tearing down the hallway like their ass is on fire and speaking with a volume level only acceptable in a room of screaming people…yet they are the ONLY one talking…

And let us not forget to mention the belching and other such bodily noises that should only be expelled in the privacy of one’s home where those living there are not utterly disgusted.

And they have the nerve to call themselves “adults.”

Can’t you tell how much I love this place?

At least it is ALMOST OVER.

Because I cannot take much more.

Oh, and to the person who sings down the hallway EVERY DAY:

This isn’t a recording studio.

And your “pipes” aren’t exactly what one would call “talented.”

So do us all a favor and ZIP IT.

tim’s gallery

In lieu of realizing over the weekend that Tim is actually a photographer in disguise…and has been hiding it from me all these years…

I’ve given him his OWN SPACE.  Right here.  For his pictures.

Because they’re THAT good.

Tim’s Gallery.

Check it out from time to time. 

It’s Tim’s to do with what he will.

So if he doesn’t update it within whatever your specified “allowable timeframe” happens to be…

Complain to him about it.

Or just enjoy this picture he took at Delicate Arch that’s hanging on our wall. 

It tends to have a calming effect.

all because of tim

I get to follow my dreams.

Because of my incredible husband, Tim…who puts up with me…this blog…and my crazy antics…

And manages to find a way to make me smile…every single day.

His unconditional love, support, and faith in me…

Has never waivered.

This video is from our Paris trip last Thanksgiving – the most romantic, beautiful city I have ever seen.

Moments from this trip only seem fitting to show him…

to tell him…

Thank you.

You have given me the happiest life I will ever know.

I love you.

frames, sprinklers and kibble

Let me preface this by saying: I had no idea it took so long to HANG PICTURES.

Seriously.

WE JUST FINISHED.

And we started THIS MORNING.

Anyhow…about yesterday…that has now flowed over into today…

We’re very particular when it comes to food and treats  for Maddie and the Girls.  We do research…we make sure it’s made in the USA – down to the last bit of packaging.

So, last week when we ran out of the Girls most-favorite-I-refuse-to-eat-anything-else food…we tried to give them some we keep “in reserve.”

Yeah…didn’t go over so well.  Gracie resorted to eating Maddie’s food and Alegre and Chloe went on a hunger strike.

The food we buy for them isn’t availble ANYWHERE near us…because we live out in The Sticks where everything closes at five and “organic” and “natural” have yet to catch on.

So on our trek up to “The City” yesterday for teeth whitening and Tim’s hair cut, we stopped and purchased some of their beloved food, along with another, low calorie kind to mix in…because they go through a ten pound bag that should last a month in like, a week, gorging themselves.

And we just cannot justify WEEKLY trips to fulfill their gluttonous needs.

Also on our Saturday list to visit was Pottery Barn.  A place I am only allowed into when heavily supervised on special occasions without a credit card.  My willpower is so weak that Tim throws away the catalogues that come in the mail before I have a chance to thumb through their glorious pages and tell him that I must have the matching throw pillows and wicker baskets and glass candle jars and a new desk with the matching chair and picture frames – or my life will not be complete.

And he wouldn’t want that, would he?

Hence his throwing away of the catalogues.

But yesterday…yesterday WE WENT TO POTTERY BARN.

WITH A CREDIT CARD.

And bought picture frames.

Lots and lots of frames.

To hang here

and here

 

And we got a new LETTER ORGANIZER THING.

My day Saturday was complete.

We made Maddie’s day when we came home yesterday and tested out the sprinkler system. 

Which was a good thing –  because today she’s been on house arrest while we were busy measuring and hanging and printing.

Actually, Tim - Mr. Engineer - does all the measuring (as shown below by all the straight lines and numbers…and stuff I wouldn’t be able to do even with a paint-by-number kind of thing).  My measuring involves…well, guessing and eye balling and saying, “Yea, I think that looks just about right.”  That’s measuring - to she-who-holds-the-Psychology-Degree.

And, if you’re wondering, the pictures are mostly all Tim’s from various trips.  I’ve told him he should sell them.  The guy at Office Depot told us that if we “accidently” left them there, he would have sold them…

The pair of pictures above our dresser are 1: a pier on Tybee Island and 2: a metal fish sculpture on a stairwell inside the Louvre courtyard.

The yellow and white flowers in the letter box are from our Hawaii trip.  The pink flower is from the back yard of Tim’s parent’s house.

The large grouping…wow this may be slightly challenging…try to follow along if you so choose…

The large center picture is delicate arch in Arches National Park and the orangish horizontal picture below it is the Arc de Triomphe in Paris.  The purple “ball” to the left of the Paris Arc are flowers in London.  The picture above the purple flowers are an antique architectural drawing of the London Bridge.  The black and white picture above the bridge is Maddie in the snow (the ONLY shot taken by me).  The picture above Maddie is also from Arches National Park and the small black and white next to that are the Grand Tetons.  The picture to the right of the Tetons is a photograph we purchased on Maui and the small picture directly below is from Zion National Park.  The last, small square picture below that is original art by Tim’s mom.

So – Tim took ALL of the pictures except….four.

I’ll post them all…bigger…later this week if anyone *really* wants to see them.

saturday…the teeth day, remember?

We DID go through with the whitening.

It was EXACTLY as uncomfortable as I remembered.  And I forgot to mention the awesome yellow-tinted glasses you have to wear and the cement they plaster to your gums…and then pry off afterwards…both in place so the UV rays don’t leave blisters in your mouth and have you seeing spots for a week. 

And they didn’t give us ANY PICTURES…apparently Brite Smile is tightening their bottom line belt.  I’ll have to try and dig mine up from a few years ago.

But we did purchase LOTS of other things…

And I’ll have to post those tomorrow. 

Because we’re spent.  Literally.

saturday is for white teeth

Have you ever gone to Brite Smile?  Or a place where the slogan is something along the lines of “Whiter Teeth in a Hour?”

Brite Smile’s advertisement makes the whitening process look like an experience rivaling the birth of your first child, where, at the end of those sixty short minutes, you’re bounding out into the great, big world with blinding pearly whites, riding so high on confidence you’d swear they gave you LSD instead of special toothpaste.

This, like so many other body-improvement treatments, is highly misleading, as reality isn’t exactly so *happy and uplifting.*

It seems innocent enough when you walk in…they give you forms to sign that make you responsible if your teeth fall out or turn purple instead of white. 

Once you’ve signed your rights away, they arm you with a toothbrush and toothpaste, floss and mouth wash and walk you over to a sink to remove any unwanted debris, like, you know, if you’ve got a seed or something stuck.  Because if that TINY PIN PRICK where you didn’t remove that strawberry seed on your left front tooth doesn’t get whitened…it will instead look like a tiny person drilled a hole right through.  Or like you have the start of the plague.

My advice?  SCRUB and use that thin, waxy ribbon until you bleed.  Who wants to go through all that effort and then turn around and try to yellow their teeth because they FORGOT TO FLOSS?

So, right, back to the whitening experience.   You finish your brushing, walk back over to your smiling little Brite Smile ”helper” and THEN comes the part they DON’T TELL YOU ABOUT.

You are walked into a dark little nook – almost like an office cubicle – strapped in a dentist’s chair with a huge half moon shaped machine that emits a bright, blue light looming overhead.  This over sized machine is soon lowered to shine on the lower half of your face after your little helper puts a contraption that looks like it came from the Medieval period into your mouth.  Said contraption forces your mouth to remain open in a position wider than what you would consider comfortable.  What? Swallow?  Either you quickly master the open mouth swallowing technique or become resigned to the fact that drool will pool on your shirt.  For “entertainment” the helper pulls down a TINY tv that gets TERRIBLE reception and haphazardly throws head phones over your ears, jams a remote in your hand and leaves you there.

For an hour.

Kinda like plastic surgery…the end result may be worth it but as you sit there after surgery, holding your face together, you cannot remember why you decided to subject yourself to such agony.

Well, that’s what we’re doing today.

All in the name of physical appearance.

That, and the embarrassment we received from looking at our wedding pictures, then at more recent pictures…back at the wedding pictures…and realizing we should have been doing the whitening ”touch up” trays a little more frequently after we had a Brite Smile treatment before our wedding a few years ago.

They give you a before and after picture of your teeth when you’re done.  I guess to show you how gross your teeth looked BEFORE and how AWESOME they look now.

I’ll post mine after we get home and let you decide.