Sherbert tastes like sherpa

Kids got in my car today and started making up voices they think should go with different names... then came "Herbert"'s voice. Herbert loves Sherbert they just kept saying... til everything went silent and the carpool leaned over to me and said, "Miss Ali, I love sherbert too."
Well, he could tell by my face that MY name wasn't Herbert..
I tried to explain that my dad always asked if we wanted dessert growing up and we'd beg him to go to the store and get us something, and about once a week he would agree. Every week I had visions of candy bars and ice cream and cupcakes and anything that could relate to chocolate... Why I expected these things I'll never know because EVERY week he came home with a new carton of sherbert.
We did have our choice of rainbow or Pineapple. EW! Sure, I liked it probably the first 50 times, but you know you've had enough when there were cartons in the freezer crusted with ice and you could tell how long it had been in there by the thickness of the layer and the gumminess of the sherbert (oo I smell science expiriment). I no longer like sherbert.
This started me thinking of other things my dad did that ruined me for certain foods. Or things that every time I visit or hear of something I think of my dad.
there's my distaste for Dunkin Donuts. Thanks to my dad, every saturday almost he would ask us if he could bring home breakfast for us. Now we knew that meant doughnuts. We would wait to eat faithfully until 10am when we knew dad would walk in the door: 10 am on the dot. He would carry the box like it was the crown jewels... NEED DONUTS! Then we would open the box.
Thanks dad for getting 11 kreullers (no one in the family liked them) and 1 chocolate glazed one that my brother and I could wrestle over for the next hour until it was crumbs on the kitchen floor that we were licking to get. Nevermind that we had BEGGED dad for donuts and he asked what kind we wanted and we ALWAYS said chocolate, glazed, jelly, anything (but kruellers: don't actually say that, you might get all 12 kreullers).
Shall I now go on to Taco Bell... yes, my sister and brother are now laughing as they read those 2 words. And the church I go to is right next door to one, so I have a hesitant giggle everytime I go there. once in a while my dad would offer to bring home dinner (do you see a pattern yet). somehow it always ended up he was offering to bring home Taco Bell. And EVERY time we got excited.
"let me get a pen and paper and you write down what you want so I don't get it wrong this time" yes, he did this EVERY time and yet we still made the list.
Over an hour later he'd show up with a HUGE bag of Taco bell and throw it on the table with 50 packets of hotsauce (that no one wanted). Nevermind that taco bell was only a block away or that we only ordered like 10 things that would NEVER require a bag that big, we dove in and you're about to see why.
Inside would be 30 bean burritos and 1 taco. I probably LEARNED to love bean burritos because I was the youngest and no matter how much I slapped my brother, he got that one taco. No, I did not order 30 bean burritos and yes, I cried always for the next hour about how my dad screwed up again... Could he not read my writing, and what took an hour. I'll never know. ......... Bean Burrito.
There was the one time I was determined to get my order so I went with my dad. I think he had worked some "long hours" that day. we got to Taco bell and he went to order, but while waiting he heard a couple of guys arguing in the back of the parking lot... they got louder and more obnoxious, when my dad reached into his center console and pulled out his gun. he stepped out of the car and pointed it , asking nicely for them to resolve their problems because they were getting so loud he couldn't concentrate on what he was supposed to order... oh dad, I love you. At this point, he was so frustrated that after I made sure he ordered the correct food, he drove up to the window, handed them a 100$ bill and drove off before waiting for change or food. A block down the road when he had calmed down, I had to ask him to go back and get his change and my taco... oh dad, was this what happened every time?
I could LITERALLY go on and on and on about food related stories with my dad: tuna salad crackers, pickled pigs feet, oysters, meditteranean, thai, calamari, sushi.... must stop ... going to barf.
simply imagine how this might affect me relating to my children (surrounded by food). I really tie some memories here... good night.

Ending on a sharp note

I didn't want to say a flat note because this year has been anything but flat. But I needed something... off. Today was a WIERD day (yes, I realize that it's me saying this).
I don't want to take new years eve and describe everything that happened this year, and I refuse to be resolute for next year, but today deserves a moment.
we begin with a sleepover from 2 friends, fashion shows, homemade breakfast ( that in itself is odd)... but then I got an idea. We shall go to the beach!
And so we did... realizing it was Nyla's first REAL time on the beach. We went this summer but all we did was hold her. Today she felt the sand in her toes (and up her nose). What a way to end her year.
then we went to the Teeter. Now, that shouldn't suprise you, but hold on to your seats... I impulse shopped... a lot. we now own pizza and pop tarts and mommy lunchables and mommy drinks.
So we retreat to the house and I make dinner: spaghetti with veggie sauce, rolls and green beans. Nyla had NO witching hour, and she enjoyed being at the table. The girls sat down and demanded before dinner to get 2 rolls. I randomly said, "whoever finishes first gets the last roll"... I don't know if I've EVER seen them eat so fast... and all 3 tied. I really need to buy stock in sister shubert.
As Ada put her plate away, I mentioned, "if you put it up on the counter for me, I'll give you a green bean." She giggled and ran to eat a bean... then Zoe joined in... and then Ella... til the whole giant bowl was gone and they thanked me for giving them green beans for dinner. They even asked for an apple for dessert.
Highlights from this afternoon:
"Ada, do you want money for the job or can I pay you in gum?" she chose gum: score!
"Zoe, If you take just one sip of juice you can have another green bean" YES!
"Nyla, stop drooling in the sand and then picking it up and eating it"
" Ella, you have to go to bed early tonight" she said ok: nice!!!

So what do I look forward to this year? I have no resolutions, only expectations.
I have decided there will be more sleepovers... adult ones, kids ones, ones here, ones there, inside, outside, mock ones, ones in public places.
Also, I shall be purging: purging my house and my junk in my trunk.
I'm gonna travel... just you wait.
And even on new years eve, as people are coming to my house, I am going to wear what I like to call business casual: pajama bottoms with a nice shirt.
Watch out for it, and hopefully Jesus will come back as the mayan calendar ends, and I might just blog a lot more (I'm about to start 2 more blogs: you'll understand soon)
Good night stars, good night moon, goodnight cow jumping over the moon. Good night nyla who can now climbthe stairs. Good night people everywhere- 2011

Dentist Ditz

I love my teeth... yah, that's a wierd way to start.

Well, I had to say that before I pointed out that I haven't been to the dentist since Zoe was born. Hey, kids born, and other things prevented it. ok, I know, not an excuse.

Every day johnny and I said we should set up an appt. to go get our teeth cleaned. Then the dentist started calling ME. see, he noticed I hadn't seen him in a while and he started checking up on me and I avoided talking to him. Finally, I answered the phone.

Isnt' that funny! It took my dentist Calling ME. God knew I needed this.

This person on the other side offered a free check up at my dentist... so I prepared... extra flossing and brushing. I got a babysitter, I was set.

Then I left my house... wait, where is the dentist, I couldn't remember.

I tried looking up the address and couldn't find it. I tried driving to where it was and the building was closed down... I was so confused.

I made my poor babysitter search my phone records for the # that called me... and then I called it.

It was my chiropractor trying to talk me into spending more money at him... not the dentist that had been calling me for weeks...

sooo, I'm an idiot and I didn't go to the dentist... well, there's always next year.

Martha Stewart doesn't live here

And neither does Santa. This year we had to prioritize. I HATE rushing over Christ-mas. The point is not to spend all my money, run errands all day, cram something into every minute, and pass out in a bad mood (swing) at the end of the day. I like Christ-mas way too much. Yet, we went out of town the weekend after Thanksgiving and suddenly we came home to the entire world already decorated for such a "jolly" holiday.

The stress began.

Then I began to be the party pooper. Johnny decorated the front of our house and about 2 weeks later, he said he was ready to climb the roof to put more lights up. See, we like to be the griswolds. we go the day after Christ-mas, collect as much lights as we can and decorate even MORE the next year. But what did I say? "Johnny don't do it. it's too late. I'd rather you hang out with us than decorate the house anymore." I think I saw a tear come out of johnnys eye.

that same week we had lent our christ-mas tree to ella's ballet company and finally got it back. we set it up and as johnny pulled out the decorations, what did I say? "let's not decorate the tree. we're doing advent anyway, let's just let the kids make paper decorations and we'll just turn on the lights" yah, I got sad faces from everyone.

Everyone keeps calling me for decoration ideas, cookies, gift ideas, cooking ... and um,we're taking it slow. We tried to go to the festival of lights, but 2 hours later we decided it'd be better to just tour neighborhoods....

you know what? Touring neighborhoods was more fun. we've had lots of hot chocolate, snowman poop, and learned to wrap presents. We've been raising money for samaratin's purse to provide doctor supplies. We drew names for our sissies to make home made presents. Each night I take one girl and we work on their present. We're doing a new kind of advent with games and time together. We've made ornaments, and laid under the stars. I think this is going to be the best Christ-mas ever!

We didn't need martha's ideas, or Santa's business all we needed was a book and a savior to be born... what a gift and a joy

sleep is for the weak... and I'm oh so weary!

Netflix just got this show called The Walking Dead, and I totally relate to this show from all angles. I feel like people see me and shy away and at the same time i'm stumbly...

See, when I was a kid, I thought for a long time my mom was so dumb for putting the TV in my room (didn't she know I was watching johnny carson and poltergeist?), but a couple years ago she broke it to me that I never slept anyway, so she put the TV in my room to keep me from waking her up. Smart mom.

In college, I required I swear maybe 3 hours sleep. Ask my roomates. I might have crashed for 12 hours every few months, but most of the time, I just couldn't sleep, nor did I need to.

When Johnny and I got married, it frustrated him that I never slept, but he NEEDED to for med school. He would ask me to lie in bed with him until he slept (which was around 5 minutes) and then I'd get up for a few more hours.... but over time, reading in bed, waiting for him to sleep, would put me to sleep.

over time, I grew to love sleep.

I remember my first nap. I was 19 and my friend Travis took a nap every day and talked me into it... I couldn't wake up, hated it!... now I beg for naps.

So about a month ago I got insomnia. after a couple weeks I started taking Ambien... after a week of that not working, I took Ambien CR.. alternating between not sleeping at all and having a hard time not sleeping for 24 hours straight. You've probably seen me... i kind of stare off into the distance. it takes a few minutes to process answers... my hair looks a little, um, crazy. Ifeel bad that I can't show up for things, and when I do, I'm useless...

And then last night... yes, I woke up 12 times, but I could fall back asleep afterward... I felt ALMOST refreshed last night... so nice. So, here's to tonight.. may I sleep and

The Deps

I'm talking about the word, depression. Maybe I should have called it Depths, but then again, we're in the south. Depression is a dreaded word. I'm not talking about just for the person dealing with depression, but just the mention of depression and it makes everyone shift in their seat, look at the floor and struggle for words. It's uncomfortable.

Everyone deals with it differently after the initial shock too. For those who have friends who are depressed, he or she might give the pity awww lip ( this is a common face given by Dr. Drew), there might be the ignore (I'm sorry, I didn't hear you), or the distraction method. That one is my cup of tea. I don't like hearing people hurting, so I will find anything to help them smile.

But as one who struggles with the deps, being the one with it has a diferent feeling. It's not just sadness, or loneliness, its angering too. See when you get sad or lonely, it feels good to have a person come along side you and take you out for coffee, or say hey, or just acknowledge your existence. When you are in the deps, people are your saving grace and your painful reminder. loneliness doesn't go away with someone there, but you feel a little paranoia that they don't want to be near you if they don't call.

Here: let me give you a typical situation. I wake up and feel "down", depish if you will. I don't want my kids to touch me; I almost feel like they'll catch it. But they get upset that I am not loving them, so I feel bad that I can't liven the mood. This doesn't resolve.

Later in the day, I wonder why no one has called me today. Is it because they don't care about me?

Magically, the phone rings and it's a friend... there's lots of awkward silence as I struggle for words that aren't complaints or talking about the dreaded dep word. The whole time, I wonder if they can tell. Every time they change the subject I wonder if they're tired of talking to me and that's why they change subject, I feel like they don't hear me, they ignore me. Every time my kids jump in the conversation and we get distracted and forget what we're talking about it "must"be because they weren't really caring what I was saying in the first place... this conversation is exhausting emotionally ( where from your point of view, we're just catching up from our conversation, like, 2 days ago and you think it's going swimmingly). I just want this talk to end and lay down, but if I get off the phone, then I have to go back to that unresolved conversation with my kids about my lack of love for them.

oh and what happens if I do tell you that I'm struggling that day? You've asked me after all to tell you if I'm having a bad day. Sad lip, awww, "what can I do?", general pity, ignoring, more awkward silence, and then when you finally change the subject after I've vented it all out, I am going to think you're changing the subject because I made you incredibly uncomfy, it's my fault and I will STRUGGLE to make it better for the rest of the SHORT conversation we're going to have... and when you say very innocently that you need to go, it's going to be, in my head, because you hate me....

Can't you figure out why people with depression want to sleep and be alone... just being awake is draining... and not just from situations like this, but going to the store, getting things done around the house, and EVERY hypothetical running through our heads.

For those of us who have the hope of Christ there's an added war. Shouldn't I be able to deal with this with the power of Christ? Is there something wrong with me if I'm on meds (no)? Why do Christians always put on the good face (everyone does)? and the CONSTANT telling to myself that all these emotions and thoughts are lies from Satan and "renewing my mind".

Just typing this hurts. This is the longest amount of time Ive ever spent in typing a post.

and it's cause i'm thinking about how people are going to react to this...

let me reiterate, I love the distraction method. Just tell me about your day, you carry the conversation for a few minutes. Tell me how YOURE feeling, doing, hopes , dreams, what you want to be "when you grow up". Say something utterly ridiculous. Have coffee (if I drank coffee) with me and go to a movie or something. Please don't avoid hanging out with me because "what will happen if I can't do all these things and we have awkward silences". Then my fears aren't misguided are they? :) And if you have friends or are struggling with THE DEPS yourself, now you know how to pray. Pray that Satan can be silenced for a minute. Pray that sleep is restful. That God will work in SPITE of me, and eventually with me. And if you plan on hugging, do it! not out of obligation, but do it without hesitation... and most likely, I'll do it back.

Essence of perfection

Took everyone to school on Wednesday and then.... it was just me and Nyla alone all morning. I attempted the beach. The nice thing about a baby that can't go anywhere is that you don't need anything but a towel. I brought a chair for myself and we were off.

I laid her under the pier and sat my chair in the sun next to it. AND I READ A BOOK. Now, I'm not talking like I read a word, looked up to check, forgot what word I read and reread and reread and reread... She fell asleep on the beach. I READ A BOOK!

I looked up at that timultious ocean and was captivated.

My first thought was, "Does God orchestrate every wave that hits the pier because it's like a symphony... beautiful".

Then the funny things I notice as a people watcher started to take place. The old lady wearing a roxy bikini 2 sizes too small SEARCHING the beach for loose driftwood that she was capable of carrying. There was a surfer ARGUING with the fisherman on the pier to which side he belonged on. Then on the nearly empty beach, a man felt the overwhelming need to sit an armsreach from me, literally. I heard the hippy from the north explaining to his 11 year old how she was responsible to clean the beach for the next generation.

I loved watching and talking to passersby as they oohed and ahhhed about Nyla sleeping on the beach.

For a mom of 4, it was a perfect day.

So many things can be taken for granted on a daily basis, but perspective can make the difference between complaining that Irene wiped out the beach and leaving completely refreshed.

Proverbs 15 :15 says something to the effect of " a miserable attitude leads to a miserable life; a happy heart leads to a song in your day."

I loved the Song in my day, it was