When Words Bring Tears

11 Sep

As anyone who has followed or stumbled upon this blog has noticed, I’ve not posted a word in over a year. To my loving family and friends, thank you for your understanding.

A little less than a year ago, my dearly loved sister-in-law lost her looooong battle with ovarian cancer.

I miss her. Every. Single. Day. And if she were able to read this, this is what I’d say.

Dear Sis,

You are such an inspiration to all that know you. Really and truly you are. Since you received your diagnosis those eight years ago, you’ve not let anything or anyone slow you down. I don’t know if I told you how awesome I thought you and K were to chuck the jobs you both hated and move to Vegas and live your lives together Your Way. Your courage and determination and sassy spirit and kind heart drew so many people to you, maybe you’ve noticed.

I see a good deal of you in Miss Sassy Pants, for better or for worse. Because when I text you detailed conversations that little Miss and I have, it’s because I know that she gets it from you, and that as much as it makes me want to pull my hair out, she will be strong like you. And at the very least, I know that these slices of everyday life and everyday sassiness are precious and just damn funny. Even if at my expense.

Mr. Crabby Pants on the other hand is typically anything but crabby. He’s got your joi de vivre and nothing gets his spirits down. He also has the same twinkle in his eye that your brother does. Lord help me as he gets older. I probably let him get away with more than I should, because he’s just so happy, and so darn cute.

I’m so thankful we were able to get out to see you last fall. It is a treasured memory, watching the kids hug and kiss you and being there with all the family. The love in your eyes is something I carry with me.

I’m not going to lie, some days are hard. There have been countless moments I’ve wanted to call or text you about the ridiculously awesome things your niece and nephew do and say. I can still hear the laughter that was so often in your voice when we did talk. And that’s when the tears come. Trying to put together the words, any words, and knowing you won’t be reading them, laughing at the randomness that is life, brings an incredible ache. So I’ve been stuck. Knowing you wouldn’t want that for a second, and how you supported all our crazy dreams, I’m going to start writing again. I couldn’t do it without telling you how much I love you.



A Different Kind of Season

13 Jul

Truely, I’m not sure what is standing between me and the computer these days. It could be the screaming children that spend most of their waking hours fighting about something. Although, as any parent can relate, when it gets quiet is when I really get freaked out. Mr. Crabby Pants has an Evil Kanieval bent that scares the living daylights out of me. Daily.

There are a few personal goals that I’m striving to accomplish this year, and they are taking a good chunk of my precious free time aka nap time. Although, I’m excited to report that I’ve kept fairly up to date on a Bible reading plan that is taking me through the Old Testament once, and the New Testament and Psalms twice in a year. I also have a couple other writing projects in the works. I now know how to use my zipper foot on my sewing machine and how to make home made tortillas. So this first half of the year has been fairly productive on the creative front if not here on the blogging front.

And then there are those days when I’m thrilled to have taken a shower and kept the kids alive and fed. Talk about personal accomplishments.

I wish I had some bit of earth shattering information to share, but at the moment nothing comes to mind. I must be in a different kind of season, I just wish I knew what it is. Until I figure it out, I’ll just continue to roll with it. As usual.

I was rear-ended last week, same car as last year, so a touch of deja vu there. Thankfully the children were home with Daddy and no major injuries. Just sore, and I’m trying to follow DR’s orders and not lift, push, or pull anything. Try telling that to a 2 year old who hurt something, again… Like I said, I’m trying.

Hoping all is well with you all, and thank you for taking a few minutes to read over my random and rambling thoughts.


A Budding Author or Attorney, You Decide.

27 Mar

Every afternoon, upon getting home from school. I go through Miss Sassy Pants’ folder and review any work that has come home. I enjoy those few minutes getting a glimpse into her school work. How is she doing in Math? Getting more confident. How about Art? Pretty good if I say so myself.

Reading and Writing?

You decide.

This came home today:

Penguin for a Pet

Directions: Write an opinion on whether or not you think we should get a penguin for a class pet.

(as Miss Sassy Pants wrote: her words, punctuation, spelling,  etc.)

Are you crazy? a penguin for a class pet? I think a penguin for a penguin for a class pet is not a good idea. First of all, if we get a penguin we will have to get fish. And fish are stinky. Also if we get a penguin, it would have to be cold in our room. Finaly I think it would be a bad idea to get a penguin for a class pet because if it already has a mate it could lay an egg. As you can see these are my reasons to not get a penguin for a class pet.


If you do not know, Miss Sassy Pants is in second grade.


So what do you think, future author or future attorney?

Either way, I’m going to be in big time trouble when she hits the teen years.

A Passing Fancy

21 Mar

If everyone who lived under my roof could please wear the same clothes for the next three days; I just might be able to catch up on the laundry.

Of course, there are the damn dishes….

Accidental Hiatus

13 Mar

I didn’t mean to do it. I never intended to take a blogging hiatus, at all.

We moved across the country, again.

There was a lot of unpacking, organizing and donating of all this extra crap, cause I just can’t stand it any more, to be done.

We had to figure our way through a new school, a new church, make that two, and other social niceties.

Mr. Crabby Pants turned two and has been dubbed Mr. Bossy Britches.

I can sum up all these months of ups and downs, twists and turns with just one quote.

“The person you need, is Nanny McPhee!”

Did you hear Emma Thompson?

If anyone knows how I can track her down, let me know. 

After all, she’s not in the book.

Not Applicable!??

28 May
Eeyore as depicted by Disney

Eeyore as depicted by Disney (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This past week or so has been a doozy. Not only am I packing up our place solo, but the kids and I were in a bit of a fender bender. As a result, I am sore all over. The middle of my back feels like I took a swift kick from a donkey.

Erring on the side of caution, and under the advice of several friends and family, I had it looked at. As I was filling out the forms and answering the routine questions, it came up: What do you do? (for a living). I’m a stay at home mom. Oh…… (dead silence). Three separate occasions this week, I’ve been asked this question with varying responses to my answer.  All vague and non-committal as if the person asking the question doesn’t know how to process parenthood as a profession.

A quick exam by the doctor and a few x-rays for good measure confirm that all is well. Just a muscle strain and a spasm. No medication since I’m still breastfeeding. $50 bucks and I’m on my way, trying to convince myself that the $50 for reassurance that nothing serious was going on, was well worth it.

And then…

My husband, through circumstances beyond his control, ended up at the same urgent care also with back pain. HE brings home multiple prescriptions, photo copies of stretches he’s supposed to do nightly AND work restrictions.


The next morning, Mr Crabby Pants is crying at my husband’s knees, I’ve got my hands full, and my husband looks at me and says with a degree of frustration, “Honey, can you get him, I’ve got work restrictions.”

That was the moment.That’s when it finally sunk in.

For those of us Mom’s (stay at home or otherwise) THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS WORK RESTRICTIONS! That whole section on the after-care release forms became Not Applicable the moment I said I was a stay at home mom.

No work restrictions for this or any stay at home mom. If the kid is crying, we pick him up! Blood, puke, snot or tears, it’s always Mommy to the rescue.

And, at the end of the day, after that friendly kick from Eeyore really settles in, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Why Do I Feel Guilty?

23 May

As I mentioned the other day, I was rear-ended while leaving church the other day. It wasn’t a “serious accident” and aside from a little soreness, all is well with us. The car is already in the shop and I’m scooting around town in a rental. Thankfully all the claim stuff is going smoothly, though they did find additional repairs that needed to be done and rather than 4 days to fix I just got an email saying it would be next Friday. Breathe. Because the Thursday after that is moving day and I’m going to need my car to move across the country.

What I’m at a loss over, is the amount of guilt I’m feeling over this whole thing. I didn’t do anything but sit at a stop sign and WHAM! Why do I feel guilty? I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I feel guilty for the claim that is going through the other driver’s insurance company. I feel bad that I had to replace my car seats. I even feel guilty for the nagging back pain that took me to the urgent care center for x-rays this morning.

I should be Super-Mommy and sale right through all of this right?

I wonder if there some technical-psychological term for what I’m feeling. My eye is twitching and my blood pressure was high for the very first time in my life.

I think I need to go lie down.

Mr Crabby Pants is napping and I think I’ll take my cue from him.


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