Cleaning Up My Beliefs

Something I should think about.  If it doesn't serve a purpose, throw it out.

Left Brain/Right Brain

I really love the way this image captures the differences in the way left/right brains process, see, feel, think...

My mind...

This is my mind right now...  Might also be a good description of "Monkey Mind."

It's kinda freakin' me out...

All the publicity surrounding the shooting at the Dark Night Rises in Aurora last weekend is starting to take it's toll on me.  I guess it's mostly about the sailor that died and how the bubble I imagine my family living in was burst.  So I'm not an idiot, and I never actually believed that there was something that exempted my family from bad things; I've just been able to ignore the fact.  I can't anymore.


Since Sunday night, I'm kept awake by thoughts of a government sedan pulling up in front of my house and uniformed officers getting out.  They walk up my steps and knock on the door...  I don't want to open it because I know why they are there.  I verge on panic and then it subsides because I tell myself it's ridiculous.  Or is it?


I haven't told anyone I know about this, not the navy mom's, not my husband or son, no one.  I'm afraid they will think I've gone off the deep end.  I think I just need some time and space from Colorado's most recent tragedy.  I will not read another article about it, I will avoid postings on Facebook regarding the deaths, I will continue to stick with the Hallmark channel that, thankfully, has no news coverage.

I'm Baking Disabled But I Still Try

I read this great book called Murder on the Rocks by Karen Maclnerney.  In it, the innkeeper bakes a coffee cake and I could almost taste it.  I baked, from scratch*, my own version of a blueberry coffee cake this last weekend, and while it was good, it wasn't great and I was a little disappointed with my version. I finished the book last night and was rewarded with not only a fantastic murder mystery, but recipes were included at the end!  I MUST try this version.

Wicked Blueberry Coffee Cake
1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
3 eggs, slightly beaten
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
2 cups flour
1 cup sour cream or vanilla yogurt
2 cups blueberries (fresh or frozen)

1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup butter
1/4 cup flour

Cream the butter and sugar.  Add next six ingredients.  Add the 2 cups flour and sour cream (or yogurt) alternately to egg mixture, mixing with a spoon.  Fold in blueberries.  Pour mixture into greased 9"x13" baking pan.  In a separate bowl, cream brown sugar and remaining utter.  Add flour to get a semi-dry mixture.  Spread on top of batter.  Bake in 350-degree oven for 30 minutes.

I think I'll add cinnamon to the topping, and maybe some sliced almonds?  I'm still working on figuring out how to get the blueberries to "float" in the batter rather than sink.  In my first attempt, I tossed fresh blueberries with a little sugar and flour.  It didn't help.

The attached pic is someone else's attempt (looks successful to me!) at Wicked Blueberry Coffee Cake.  Thanks Bobbi at Blogging Along!

* Once again, blogging about something so I can pin it.  Kind of pathetic?  Yes and no.  I think it's important for me to remind myself of things like baking something edible from scratch! 


And seriously?  I didn't have a label called Food?  Oh, have mercy!

Which Step Have You Reached Today?

Job one, job two, internship, online class, and in-seat class - 70 miles away.  It's a wonder I'm still alive.  Really.  The purpose of posting is really just to get a picture up so I can pin it in on a Pinterest board...  yeah, I do that.  I am collecting art, websites, sketches, tool kits - anything that is helpful to me as a beginning counselor.  I saw this on Facebook yesterday and knew it would be useful.

How great is that?!  I work with a lot of eating disorders and I think this kind of walks through their journey...  except instead of "Yes, I did it!" it should be "Yes, I'm doing it!"

In a week or so my load will lighten by the online class so I might just have to come back and catch up.

For now...

You should tell your kids this...

I tear up a lot these days. I did it again last night when I read a blog post* that was about what impacted college athletes the most. Well, what their parents said to them anyway. The heartfelt comment was, "I love to watch you play." 

Wow! Did I tell my boys that? Do I tell my daughter that? I hope my boys know that their football games meant the world to me. In hindsight, sitting at those games and watching them play their hardest were some of the most amazing moments I ever had as a parent. 

These days we watch our daughter play soccer with a renewed spirit (she almost quit last season) as though she plays every game for her brothers... she wants to make them, especially Matt, proud. She's proud of herself too, and there's nothing more awesome to watch as a parent. 

I loved watching my boys play. I love watching my daughter play. 'Nuff said.

*Hands Free Mama

It isn't a competition.... but it feels like it sometimes.

Remember how I said I didn't have the time to put up something well written?  Yeah.

I read an article a few mornings ago where a SAHM related an exhausting average day with her 10 month old and toddler.  While I can appreciate the crazy schedule and constant activity associated with the life of a SAHM  since I was one years ago, I think I'm living a much more complicated circus now.

An average morning begins slowly when I wake  up to my alarm at 6, which I will beat on to make it shut up every seven minutes until about 6:30, when I realize that I'm not actually getting any sleep and I really need to get my 13 year old daughter out of bed and make some coffee.  I stumble out of my bedroom and down the hall, dodging the five cats, four of our own and one foster, that have decided they MUST be fed this very moment.  I call out my daughter's name from her doorway a couple of times and when she doesn't move, I go in to tickle her feet and get her attention.  Some mornings she moans and moves as if she's getting up, and others she lifts a had out from under the covers and gives me all five fingers - she wants five more minutes, but you can see how I might think she's flipped me the bird five times over…  she's 13 after all.

I stumble back into the kitchen and start the coffee, tip over more cats on my way into my bathroom to feed the kitten and then flop back down into my bed.  Now so far I've managed to function without putting on my glasses, but if I intend to make Lindsay get up in two more minutes, I might just need to see.  I put on my glasses, pick up my phone and check to see how many emails my boss has sent me since he got to the office at 5 that morning.  I swear at the incoming to-do list from work, I head back down the hall to drag Lindsay out of bed and grab a cup of coffee, whether it's finished brewing or not.  While Lindsay gets dressed, I go over the emails from work some more, check my personal email, hit facebook for a few minutes, then head for the kitchen to make something for my daughter to eat in the car on the way to school.  My kids have school of choiced for several years and I've just gotten used to driving, and it's not really that far.  I holler for her to get moving, spend five minutes digging around so she can have money for lunch, and we finally get out the door at about 7:20 most mornings.  Before we leave, I remember the foster dog is still in his crate so I put him outside so he can do his business while I'm gone.  The drive to school is about 8 minutes if we don't get stuck behind some idiot checking his text messages in our neighborhood and we don't get stuck at the light that is only red for 90 seconds but seems to go on for 10 minutes.  All in all, it takes me about 20 minutes to make the school run and I'm back home to finish getting ready for my day because I'm still in pj's and have only had time to run a brush through my hair.  Yes, Rob is home.  He generally helps get Lindsay out of bed if she's feeling particularly grouchy and then he jumps in the shower and leaves for work while I'm making the school run.

By 8:10 I'm fairly presentable, unless I didn't take a shower the night before and then I don't become presentable until around 8:30, at which time I should be nearly ready to walk out the door.  I throw some almonds, dried cranberries, granola bars and maybe some cheese in my bag, gather chargers for my nook tablet, laptop and cell phone and run out the door - usually coming back in because I forgot to feed the adult cats and I nearly left the dog outside all day and he'd like to eat too.  So at 8:42 I pull out of the driveway and start munching on the apple I dropped in my bag at the last minute.  I pull into work right at 9am. 

My morning can be crazy-busy or so slow that I'm in tears by my lunch hour.  This particular morning I didn't have to go straight to work, but had an errand to run - the DMV.  I have to pick up motor vehicle reports for our CDL drivers and I hate coming to this place - they always request just one more piece of paper that I don't have, something they neglected to put on their website or tell me when I called to double check.  But this morning is different, I am sent straight to the cashier and she is in a good mood.  She takes forever to fill out her end of the paperwork, but I could care less and I get out of there in 45 minutes with MVR's for five employees; I'll have to come back next week to get the other four, but last week I left with nothing so I figure I scored.  I make it to work today at around 10 and am buried until noon when I throw aside everything and munch on my lunch.  This afternoon was busy again and any hopes of getting more reading done for school are dashed.  Did I mention that I'm a graduate student?  Right now I have class once a week but this summer I'll have one class in Denver on Wednesday night, one in Loveland on Thursday night, and one online.  When I get off work at 4pm, I head over to my second job - yep, I have just started working as the bookkeeper for a counseling firm so they will let me do my practicum at their site this summer.  I work there for two hours and then I pick up my daughter at soccer practice on my way home.  Her dad got off early so he could drop her off and has already left to play darts with his league.  That's what I need to do, join a club that meets once a week at a bar and have me some fun.  Were this a school night, I'd get off work, drive across town to pick up Lindsay, drop her off at soccer and stop somewhere to pick up dinner.  Class starts at six and ends at nine.  My husband picks Lindsay up from soccer practice those nights and I have tried to have an easy recipe ready or have something ready to be heated in the refrigerator for their dinner, but mine comes from a fast food restaurant or a convenience store.  When I get home it's around 9:30pm and I let the foster dog out to go potty, smoke a cigarette, and then read or do homework until my eyes cross.  I've been an insomniac lately and sometimes can't get to sleep until 2am, but I normally get six and a half hours of sleep.

The days that are lighter, I can actually write a paper or post in the online portion of my classes; I can create meal plans and try to make the time to shop for those plans; I run to the grocery store for items forgotten or changes in plans; I pay bills and write quick emails to my son who's stationed in Japan with the Navy; sometimes I even invite my oldest son and his girlfriend over for dinner.  There's little time for personal pursuits, and sometimes I just let the class reading go so I can enjoy a novel.

I'm not saying that SAHM's don't have a lot going on - they do - but sometimes it seems like they want to shove it in the faces of those of us with jobs that they're not only doing something great and wonderful (staying with their children to raise and nurture them) but they're lives are much crazier than working mom's.  It isn't a competition.  I think that they're probably luckier than I am in that they can enjoy their children more than I get to, and their lives are fuller, more complete.  I used to stay home with my kids but then we needed more income and I would have killed to have an adult conversation every day.  Our lives changed and I couldn't give my daughter the wonderful gift I gave my boys - I couldn't stay home with her every day.

Pain

Today is a day filled with pain and discomfort.  My back, neck, hips and head all hurt.  I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I’ve been getting more sleep – last night I was in bed just after 9 o’clock and asleep before 10.  I can’t wait to get home and curl up in pajamas.  But first, I have to wait until 4 so I can leave work, then I have to run to Lindsay’s school to see her participate in the Solo and Ensemble contest.  I think that only lasts 20 minutes to half an hour.  And the good news is that it’s after school at her school, not Saturday morning at a school across town, the way it was when the boys were in junior high.

Rob has darts tonight and there’s a pizza leftover in the ‘fridge so my evening is all set.  The only thing that could make it more perfect would be if I wasn’t hurting so much. I suppose it would help if I’d take something for it…  okay, two Aleve and half a muscle relaxant.  Crossing my fingers it helps me get through the rest of the afternoon.

The source of my stress...

I have a little relief from the stress today.  I talked to my advisor yesterday and agreed that dropping one of my classes this semester wasn’t such a bad idea.  It’s better to pass one class than fail two.  I think I might be setting myself up for future stress but I just have had the most horrible year and a half. 

Things have to line up just perfectly for increasing stress in my life.  Everything kind of hinges on Rob getting a better job, any job.  Anything but fast food, or retail, or…  who am I kidding.  He needs to get a job in his field working for the industry rate.  And he has to do that in four months or less.  I need to leave my job to take one at a counseling firm that will also let me do my practicum and internship there.  It’s nearly my dream job, but it can’t happen if Rob and I can’t handle the pay cut that it will require.  Oh, such fun!

But tonight I’m just going to worry about whether or not Psych will be good.  It’s the season premier and we’re trying the new Bacon Cheeseburger pizza from Papa Murphy’s.  It’s a family couch date and I’m looking forward to it…  and then falling asleep all comfy and warm in my bed before by 10pm.

Lonely

It’s depressing when friends move away. Mine have been doing it for years and Rob has been kind enough to point out that it might have something to do with me. Ass.

I live in a college town so it shouldn’t surprise me when I make friends with people that are students and they move upon graduation – but I don’t only make friends with students. It’s just the nature of this city I guess.

I’m struggling with the loss of one of my dear friends. She moved two weeks after Matt left for boot camp, I know I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s really raw right now. She moved to Colorado Springs, which isn’t Mars but it might as well have been, as often as Rob and I manage to get out of Northern Colorado. Now she and her husband are moving to the western slope… over six hours drive through the mountains. I guess we might see them once a year and I know I’ll survive – I managed to live through LJ’s move 17 years ago and she never moved back, she hardly comes back, and I’ve only gone to see her twice. Sigh.

I guess I’ll have to make new friends again. Like it’s that easy.

No Motivation - For Anything

Sick. I hate being sick. Jake gave me a cold when he came over eleven days ago, I got sick nine days ago, and I still have the cough and chest congestion. It's getting old. And I'm wearing down. I was falling asleep on the couch last night at 8:30 and held out until 9 so I could send Miss Lindsay to bed - or insist she get in it. I crawled into my own bed and passed out.

I talked to a Navy Mom last night that attends the same grad program I'm in. She suggested I drop my second class this semester because I'm so worn down that I can hardly keep up with the one class I'm in. I'm not sure what that would do to my schedule since I really only have two years to finish school. I have a meeting with my advisor tomorrow and I'll talk with her about it then.

I got to Skype with Matt on Saturday night for an hour. It was a nice easy conversation and it made my world just right. I miss him a lot, but it's easier to handle when I get to see his face and have those lazy talks.

I haven't felt like cooking much for the past week - ever since Mike and Jenn were here and I was too sick to make them enchilada's. It's kind of depressing not to be able to cook for your friends. The only plans I have for dinner this week are skillet lasagne and burgers. I guess the week will look something like this:

February 27 - March 4, 2012

• Monday - Ranch burgers with fries and carrots.
• Tuesday - I'll be in class so I have no idea what they're eating.
• Wednesday - Skillet lasagne with garlic bread while Lindsay and I watch the season premier of Psych!
• Thursday - Canned soup, since Rob will be at darts and Lindsay and I aren't pickey.
• Friday - Sunday - maybe I'll have some inspiration by then.

In the meantime, I have to buy small amounts of tropical fruit and some random leafy green veggies to feed the hermit crabs we bought Lindsay over the weekend.

Margaritaville

Again, it’s been a while.  I’m not sure I’ll ever get back into blogging the way I used to.  I think part of it is that I feel like I have to post something of substantial length, well written, and well thought out.  I just don’t have it in me anymore to put all that energy into a blog post.  I have papers to write, I have presentations/papers on treatment to put together, I have to figure out how to understand all the reading I have every week because there’s a STATE BOARD (and maybe National board too?) in my future and it’s all freaking me out.

Hmmm, that was kind of therapeutic.  I guess that’s my major stressor right there.  I don’t test well.  Well, crap!

Anyhoo….  Yesterday Jake called me and asked if I’d meet him at Zquila (a Mexican place near my house that has AMAZING margs and cheap happy hour food) for a drink after work.  It’s kind of weird that I’m meeting my son for a drink.  I still think he should be 11.  He was a pretty neat 11 year old; he’s a pretty neat 21 year old too.  I had a great time; we talked for an hour and a half about job searches and school, his brother and sister, tattoo’s and piercings…  everything.  He bought me a shot of something called a Zombie Brain?  Yuck.

If he hadn’t changed his mind and separated from the Navy DEP, he’d be in boot camp right now.  Sobering thought.  I’m so glad he isn’t.

As always, February is made interesting by Michael’s birthday.  It’s tomorrow and he would have been 23.  It’s not sad anymore.  He exists in our lives – even Lindsay talks about him sometimes, she even put him in her French assignment about her family.  The boys did that too when they were growing up.  Michael is with us.

I called Matt last night.  He got an iPhone because it has a really cool app that will give him a local number so he can make and receive free calls and texts from the States.  It was good to hear his voice and even about the boredom associated with painting fans.  Yeah, I don’t know, I didn’t ask.