Can I just get my...

...fake award speech out of the way tonight?

It's Golden Globe night, you guys! Award season is in full swing!

Normally, I'm not a big one for awards shows, but obviously someone has hit me on the head and slightly altered/partially replaced my personality.

OR - I'm just so bereft at the fact that The Walking Dead isn't back for another month that I'll watch anything else on Sunday night.

I was kind of hoping they were nominated, but I was way too lazy to even check on that. (They weren't.)

Plus, I love Tina Fey and Amy Poehler and they were hosting. So, there you go.

When I was little, I wanted to be famous. I didn't really know famous for what, I just wanted to be onstage in a beautiful dress with hair and make up done thanking people for helping me get to where I was. But, recognizing that I didn't possess that caliber of talent, that little fantasy has always remained just that.

Well, until tonight!

Tonight I'd like to thank all of you who read this blog, who comment on it, who share it with your friends, who email me. I'd like to accept the generous, generous gift of your time and attention. Even those out there who read this and use my words to make fun of me. Thank you too, because 1) you are still reading, 2) it helps me not to take myself too seriously, and 3) it helps me not to take non-constructive criticism to heart anymore. (That's HUGE!).

I am honored that my words can touch you in some way, that you think I'm a good story teller, and that you can relate to what I put out there. I write for me, but it's the most amazing feeling to know that people who aren't your teachers and who haven't assigned this piece of writing are reading your words. So thanks! Thanks for sharing  your lives back with me. Just...thanks!

We spent months...

...planning our last move. There were checklists, schedules, lists of possible issues and solutions. (Yes, I'm THAT person). Research was done, I bugged the crap out of my friend Tina about what neighborhoods would be potentially good choices for us to live in. We did a drive-through when we headed to see family for Christmas last year. (By the way, driving through didn't give us a single, accurate impression.)

Being a military family, we have moved a fair amount of times. It does get easier in some ways the more you do it. In others, it stinks just as mightily as the first time. Do we have it down to a science? Um, no. Not even. Every time we PCS Robert and I start to question why exactly it is we thought the other one would be a good life partner choice.

Thank goodness the military moves us
or this is how we'd do it!

But after the carpal tunnel recedes from my wrists from all the scrubbing and the skin grows back; after I have militantly decided how the new kitchen should be arranged (and no it's not open for discussion); after the last box has been unpacked and broken down; after we've made seven trips to Goodwill or the Salvation Army to donate all the things we don't have space for or it turns out we can, indeed, live without; things settle down and we realize that all things considered, it's not so bad. And, eventually, Robert and I like each other again. He likes me after I get the kitchen unpacked and cook for him and allow him to have more of the closet than I get (without complaining (thankyouverymuch), and I like him after he helps me move things eighteen different places until I'm satisfied (and he doesn't complain about that).


So now, here we are in one of the most beautiful places on the planet, living in a great house. While nothing is exactly how I pictured it in my mind, for the most part, we are pretty happy here. Well, at least until we have to drive somewhere and end up trying to read the minds of other drivers (turn signals and working brake lights, people. That is all.).

So was it worth all the planning? Meh. Maybe. But I'd rather over plan than under plan. Kind of like over thinking versus under thinking.

I never received an answer

When I saw this prompt, I had two choices (post wise, anyway). I could talk about all the times I've asked a question and never gotten an answer - OR - I could take this topic in a more spiritual direction.

Decisions, decisions.

But since I've listed this as a 'humor blog' in a place or two, I decided to go with the option a.

First up, why (and I'm guilty of doing this too) is it that when people don't want to tell you no, that they just don't answer you. For example:

Me - Hey! Let's do ______ sometime.
Pause.
Person I'm talking to ::crickets::
Me - So...that's a no?
Person I'm talking to - I'll let you know.

Or!

Me: Kids - have you done _______ yet?
Kids: scatter like rats deserting a ship.

Or!

Me: (before I met Robert) I had a good time tonight.
Random date: uh huh
Pause
Me: So, thanks...
Random date: I'll...uh...call you.
Me: Oooookay.

Or you get invited to some sort of event where you are ideally expected to attend, bring a friend, and spend money (the more the better). I don't have a problem with this unless I have attended events for someone else who never, ever reciprocates. Then I start avoiding a response myself. And the reason I avoid a response is basically twofold. One, I'm really honored to be invited to anything. Ever. Two, because I can be guilted into things fairly easily.

However I secretly have a little scoreboard in my head that appears ::poof!:: before my eyes when I get these invitations. Oh lets see...I've attended or ordered from five or six different things for you, and I've invited you to several things for me, and not only do you not come or order, but you never acknowledge me in general unless you want me to buy something. But giddy invitation glow and easy guilt aside, even I have my limits. I don't ever want to hurt anyone's feelings, but there is no way I'm going to show up for some sort of Tupperware/jewelry/home goods show and not spend money. I just can't. I haven't decided if that's a flaw or a personality bonus. I know I need to let stuff like roll off my back, but speaking for myself only, I really would rather hear a negative response -- and by that I mean no/I don't want to do that/can't come/think that sounds horrible/would rather pull my toenails out with rusty nails licked by rabid raccoons than for it to be pretended that I don't warrant/deserve/rate a response. But maybe that's just me.

If you're at all interested in our....

...philosophy on child rearing, I'm happy to share it with you.

Are you ready? Okay.

Truth: Robert and I have no actual clue what we are doing. I mean, we have read a bunch of books, asked for advice, been given about eighteen times more advice that we've asked for, and we have tried many, many different methods and approaches to just about every problem so far.

And here's what we've learned. Just like every family is different, every kid is different. So what works on one may or may not work on the other one. And sometimes different approaches work well for a while and then your child catches on and you are back to square one. And sometimes, you just have to make it up as you go along. But there is no one right way to do any of it. There may be a right way for your kid, and that's great. But trust in me when I say that flexibility will be your biggest asset.

But lest you think we are complete maniacs - which I'm not actually opening for debate, I'm just jumping in and announcing that we are not - the one thing we do right is to follow through. Well, most of the time. But good grief, that is so much harder than I thought. We also back each other up, so I guess we do two things right.

Along the way (and I feel the need to stress this, so I'll use shouty caps - SO FAR), we've learned to pick our battles, see the humorous side of situations, and admit it when we are wrong. Oh, and the most important one - we are learning to appreciate our kids for who they are now and who they are meant to be, not just who we thought or expected them to be. Sounds simple, but it took that one a while to sink in.

Because kids are like some assembly required furniture. All the pieces are there, even when there's a screw loose or a uneven shelf. And when they are done, they are beautiful and useful and a source of incredible pride.

I've seen some pretty horrible...

...drivers since we moved back to North Carolina.

Yesterday, the kids and I mutually agreed that we needed to get. out. of. the. house. Even if it was just to drive around for a few minutes. After gymnastics on Monday, I noticed that my tire pressure indicator light was on. Not surprising considering the massive drop in temperature in the last few days. I had stopped by a gas station on the way home, but the air machine was out of order. I figured that I could just take care of that since we needed to get out of the house. Six quarters, two frozen hands, one pressure gauge short, and many expressions of frustration later, I gave up that little task and off we went to the nearest Redbox. 

On the way, we got behind an older car being driven...oddly. It turned into the same parking lot where we were headed. Turns out that the little older guy driving was driving with his door open. Um..okay. I'm guessing maybe the colder weather was causing some sort of issue with the door. But then he pulls out of the parking space, drives around to another row, parks, sits there and repeats the process about four more times. 

I didn't get it either. 

photo courtesy of sodahead.com

Then there my favorite people - we hath dubbed them the oblivious. They drive cars with so many stickers on the bumper, trunk and rear window that it's amazing there is any visibility (and I'm pretty sure that sometimes there isn't). They are also apparently unaware that anyone else could possibly be on the road. An endearing little trait in heavy traffic. But the oblivious? They aren't the least bit concerned. They are too busy sucking the marrow out of life at 70 mph. Usually in both lanes at the same time. Kumbaya. Or Yippie kay yay. Or Namaste. Or something. 

But the very, very worst of them all is the 'my vehicle is bigger than your vehicle' group. They could be anyone, as long as they feel like their vehicle is even the slightest bit larger than yours, they show you no mercy. Normally, there are rules of the road and rules of right-of-way. Here? It's pure Darwin, baby. And apparently you get extra points for doing unnecessary damage.  I especially *love* the ones who are coming toward you and swerve slightly into your lane, like they are frontin', yo! If I'm going to play a game of chicken, I'd really rather do it in a pool with someone on my shoulders. Not so much with a huge metal projectile carrying precious cargo. Especially when I have no beef organic, grain fed, muscular sustenance with you.