The Joys of Garbage Pick-Up

In case you are a new reader (lol, I know, but I do love my three readers!!) , you may not know that I live on a farm in the middle of BFE (you can wiki that acronym). I moved here from the "Huge Metropolis", that it now seems, of Vicksburg, Ms. I giggle now when I think of how I use to think Vicksburg was a small town going nowhere. The really funny part is that I left that "little" town to move to RODESSA. Really, I swear, I did not do drugs in college. I did however fall in love. (Mush, I know.) So anyway, I was messaging with a friend today about how I really do love so many things about this old farm, like space, quiet, fishing in the catfish pond with friends, riding four wheelers anytime I want or don't want it seems (and which was a luxury for me growing up), and letting my kids run wild outside with only snakes to really fear. Anyway, I mentioned, though, that the two things I miss the most and really HATE about living on the farm are milk and movies. Now, don't go calling CPS on me thinking I don't provide milk to my babies, but seriously, we drive 15 mins. to buy milk. Now movies are an hour away. But mostly I miss how my friends use to call me last minute and I'd meet them at the movies. Oh, no. That does not EVER happen on the farm. You have to schedule two hours of driving time into every movie. There is no last minute grab a friend for a meal and a movie. Anyway, she sent me back a one-liner that was just so incredible. She said, "I like trash pick-up...." That sums up the city in one line, people. Farms must haul their trash to the dump, which is only open on certain days at certain times, which, mind you, are NEVER the times you are at home and available to "take off" the trash. Sucks, yeah. Stinks, more. So anyway, all my city dweller friends jealous of my open field "romance" of a life (obviously you have never read the rest of my blog), just remember me next time your trash bin is smelling pretty rotten and you have that glinting thought that it's not to worry because your trash runs tomorrow...Life on the farm is smelly, far-out business. Not to mention those rugrats, I swear...

Moma drama...

I am a moma. That being said, I am not the maid, the psychologist, the marriage counselor, the gourmet chef, the perfect whatever...you continue to fill in the blanks! My kids have managed to destroy my house in the last half an hour!!! I need a personal nanny for each one of them, which I should have prefaced by saying that I need to move to Panama to afford my life. I am so needing Dr. Whateverhisnameis to come into my home and show me how to be this idealist perfect mom that I am definitely not. As of 8:30 this morning, I have already made three different breakfasts (because Ann Cherie doesn't want cereal and Maggie could not be made to eat oatmeal if the Lord himself came down from the sky right now and asked to eat with her), swept the entire house (because Laura was given chips to eat by her big sisters and chose to consume them while walking in a trail all over the house), mopped the house (because Maggie tumped her cereal bowl over and sugary milk leaves a mark on tables and floors), unloaded the dishwasher (as the two big girls whined and complained about being asked to help all the while it definitely not being something they had on their "Want to do" list for the day), reloaded the dishes (from all the different breakfast meals), and folded clothes (while the kids STOMP their feet trudging through the house as they are "FORCED" to put up their own clothes). So as of today, my home is being declared a nudist colony and a survivor episode. I am refusing to cook (to everyone's distinct pleasure- fend for yourself or eat the bugs that you attract with your trail of chips), refusing to wash clothes (when you run out of clean ones- GO NAKED for all I care), and refusing to wash dishes (maybe when you have to carve a branch into a bowl because all of ours have grown mold you will appreciate me). TLC, filming may begin as soon as you wish- my check, however, can be forwarded to the bahamas, where I will be permanently residing for the remainder of my life. I wish... These rugrats, I swear...

Kids and Diet Pills

I am convinced that diet pills would be unnecessary if thyroid hormone levels in children were tested and adult levels were maintained at the child level percentage. My children did not go to sleep until 11p.m. last night. I put them in bed at 9p.m. and still heard them in there talking until 11. Now, that didn't bother me too terribly because I knew we hadn't gotten to go swimming yesterday due to the rain, so the energy level was a little high. And I was counting on getting to SLEEP IN this morning. HA! Laura was up at 6:30a.m.!!!! She has already spilled her juice, peed on the chair in the dining room (which are thankfully all wood and easily wiped down now), trailed fruit loops down the whole side of my house, drug out four different babies and blankets and strollers, and successfully woken up her sisters. Bottle that for me, PLEASE!! I need to lose some weight. If I could have HALF of that energy I would be a skinny momma! That little rugrat, I swear.....

Personal venting...Read at your own risk...

Well, mom left to go home today. I have done nothing but cry since then. She was so funny telling me her whirlwind story of her trip to get here. She was packing Wed. morning to head this direction when Kaylee, my 16 year old sister, ran down the stairs telling mom that it was 10:01a.m. and she was suppose to be somewhere at ten and worse yet, she was supposed to have taken Claire as well. She begged mom to run take Claire so that she wouldn't miss this whole thing while Kaylee went up to hurriedly dress. So mom made the unexpected outing to drop Claire off, and she decided to go ahead and fill up her car with gas for the trip. She gets to the gas station and inadvertently trips her car alarm system and couldn't figure out how to turn the horn off. She is standing there so embarrassed as people offer suggestions as how to make the noise go away as she frantically pushes every button on her keys and finally puts them in the car lock for the magic turn that silences the lambs! By now it is approximately the time she was suppose to arrive at my house and she is still needing to get home to finish packing. Needless to say, she arrived around 2 o'clock to my house, but arrived safe and sound, nonetheless! Frankie is working the oil spill mess so I am basically a single mom this half of the summer, which would be a job with one child, but I have three. Plus, I can't lift much because of the bladder lift/hysterectomy, so mom has to be here to help me out. She made my favorite, chicken spaghetti, for me that was sooo good! The kids are such a handful and my furniture arrived, so it was a hectic couple of days around here. Pictures are all off the walls, shelves had to be rearranged, etc. We got all of it situated, but it kept us so busy. We stayed up until 2 in the morning talking because that was the only quiet time that my children didn't monopolize. They are like garbage disposals- always hungry, always making messes, and always processing. Then mom had to go home today. She always seems happier on the day she is leaving, which depresses me because I know we (meaning the kids and myself) were tough for her to handle. (I know she needed to get home. It is just that feeling right after your mom leaves that is just empty.) And, speaking of processing, Laura was in the mood today and peed on the old couch not 5 minutes after mom left. Then proceeded to abandon the potty altogether as some sort of defiance at the loss of her Nonnie, I am assuming. She has since peed on the floor in her room, the floor in the kitchen, in MY bed, and most recently the computer chair- with double occupancy mind you, (Yes, ALL OVER ME!)and after I had just sat her on the potty. Just picture the little old woman who lived in a shoe... So I was already bummed that my mom had to go home and Frankie calls me and decides he is finally ready to have "the talk". (No, we're not divorcing, people! and the hysterectomy took care of the other talk!) "The talk" is the "Joy wants new employment in civilization and I can't leave my Daddy" talk. He starts telling me about how hard a move will be and how he is happy in his job and happy on the farm with his family and how I just need to figure out what makes me happy here...blah, blah, blah... Really??? Tonight?? My mother just left for crying out loud. I am a nervous wreck with the kids... Anyway. The talk began and so did the tears. Now they won't stop. For starters, I need a new job. Out of education, people. I mean as far away from children as possible, because when you have your own, it is too hard to come home to them after having a classroomful all day. Now, according to my husband, I have no clue as to where I fit. Yeah, well, let me think. Let me fill him in. New job fits. Living by my mom fits. There are lots of new and innovative changes that I could see fitting. I swear. I was not supported when I wanted to go to law school 5 years ago, because supposedly I was using it as a "ticket off the farm". Now, I KNOW that would have been detrimental to society if I had moved off the farm and all, but not Armageddon... Well, that lack of support will not stop me this time as I find my new "fit". I know I am loved. That is different. And I know I have great friends (Thanks, ya'll, for the encouragement!). That is different. I want to make a difference in life. I want to be helpful and appreciated. I want to put my strengths (I have a master's for goodness sakes!) to a good cause. But I am exhausted. The anxiety of returning to my current job with the same woes of this past year is exhausting me. The kids are exhausting me. The husband working odd, crazy hours- now working those seven hours away from me-exhausts me. The laundry, the dishes, the trapped feeling on this farm... I am feeling the mask coming off in this post. Well, not to worry. I'm determined. I'll find what fits. It is time. I am lowering the mask (of which the meaning of removal I probably should have forewarned Frankie) and preparing for the hurricane that befalls the removal. It is always interesting to see the real me when it is off. I am looking for a life facial. I have given this farm 10 years. It is time to harvest, people, and plant something different! I don't know about you, but I am sick of corn...
P.S. Sara, are they hiring in Istanbul? I have a Master's...
P.P.S. The "people pleaser" mask requires me to add that I am sorry for venting... lol... and Frankie requires me to add that my hormones are on an extreme shift since the hysterectomy which should even out soon... hopefully... cause toilet paper is expensive...sniff...sniff...

Out of the mouths of kids after church...

Mags was so funny today! She was talking to me after church telling me, "Mommy, I was soo good at church today! Can y0u believe I slept through all that yelling?" I could not stop laughing! Our babtist preacher gets a little loud when he gets fired up! Too funny! Then my friend Beth told me about her daughter telling her, "Mommy, I love Jesus, but I hate going to church!" (They have to go to "big church" now that they will be in Kindergarten!) So funny!

I be STROKIN'...

This is my first posting post-hysterectomy/bladder lift! I feel terrific as far as two weeks out goes!! I have the best of friends loving me, praying for me, and best of all COOKING for me! It has been so great! Thanks to everyone for all of these things 10 times over!! I love you all!

Today we went furniture shopping. It was nerve wracking! At the first store or two we hooked L into her stroller. She SCREAMED at the top of her lungs and threw her shoes and unbuckled her little belt like the best of little tantrum throwers because she wanted to "walk herself", so at the last store Frankie decided to let her walk and "hold his hand". HA! That lasted about as long as she could wink! She started by needing to go "potty". That is fun because I can't lift her, so M is lifting her to put her on the potty and she slips and L ends up with her hands in the water in the toilet! Then we finally manage to get her up on the potty, and she sits and I SWEAR- SUCKS HER THUMB! I thought I was going to throw up as I pulled her hand down as fast as I could breathe. Then I wipe her up and we go to wash her hands. Of course the girls have to hold her up again for this one. Ann Cherie puts enough soap on her hands to wash Kate+8's crew and then L decides she no longer wants to wash her hands. She starts kicking and screaming and M drops her. Nice! She is running around the bathroom with soap dripping everywhere and I am saying over and over again, "Laura, come back and finish washing your hands." The big girls are chasing her to help me catch her and she thinks it all grand fun! You can imagine the chaos! Anyway, we finally get washed up and out of the bathroom. The "money lady" as the girls refer to the sales lady is happily showing my husband the furniture in the front of the store, just out of hollering range for him. So as L decides to throw her fit on the floor because she doesn't like "having a shoe" (as she throws hers) and wants to "walk myself" without holding my hand, I send AC for Frankie. He meanders through the furniture to get to us- get this- LAUGHING at L! Oh, if not for surveillance and the whole husband abuse thing, he sooo deserved a slap! We spent the next half hour chasing L while trying to sit on a thousand or so more couches before we finally agreed on a set! Let's just say I am hoping I still have some painkillers or sleeping pills left over from the surgery! Well, the couches will be delivered in two weeks! I am so excited! Those rugrats! If I have a stroke one day you can look back through this blog and know why!

Things change...

My life is all about change right now. My kids are growing so fast! M starts KINDERGARTEN this year! L will be three, and AC got her first standardized test results. I am also preparing for a hysterectomy and bladder lift. I feel like the baby stage is officially come to an end on the farm! It is wonderful! But part of me feels like she is going to cut out my identity when she performs that surgery. I know that sounds crazy because all of these years I have fussed and complained about life with kids' woos, but really what else have I accomplished over the last ten years? I may not be the best at anything, and certainly not motherhood, either, but I have kept them alive for 8 years now. And most of the time they don't look or act like homeless hobos. All in all, though, I have been really good at being pregnant and eating too much. So after the surgery, that success level will be eliminated. That will not be a bad thing, just a definitive chapter in my life torn away with three little rugrats as evidence of it's previous existence. So on to my next chapter, right? Problem is, only God knows what that chapter is to hold, and if anyone knows me, you know that I am a control freak. Giving up the control (if I ever really had any) over where I am to go next in my life has proven terrifying. I litterally feel like I did in high school, wondering what I want to be when I grow up. I know that God is leading me away from my current teaching post, yet I cannot see past the laundry to know which new direction he is pointing. I used to pray in times like these and tell God where I wanted him to say it was OK for me to go, always to be shown a better way, but now I find myself praying for peace and surrender. I am so exhausted from dishes and laundry and piano and choir, that I cannot even breathe sometimes. I truly feel overwhelmed. I almost wish that it was still third grade and I could still dream of being an astronaut minus the math and the parachute jump. Anyway, times change, and God brings better things. God moves mountains, even ones made of laundry from three rugrats and a giant.