Saturday, March 28, 2009


Very Best Friend In The Whole Wide World....get yourself one. I have one. And her birthday is today. I've talked about her many times on this blog but I could seriously talk forever and ever about her. We have a lot of history, people.


Linda and I met MANY years ago when I started going to the First Church of God youth group in the 5th grade. She was nice and sweet. We quickly became friends. It wasn't until High School, however, that we became best friends.

She is one of those kinds of friends who makes you want to be a better person. She loves God with all her heart, soul, and mind and lives life to serve Him. As a result she always has just the right words to say for every situation and does it full of grace. She doesn't always tell me what I *want* to hear, but she certainly tells me what I *need* to hear.

A best friend will do that because it is always in your best interest to hear what you *need* to.

But where was she when I was wearing these glasses? I really needed to hear that they were horrible. Even if it was just past the 80's. Seriously needed to go.


But she was *in* the picture with me...which means she wasn't ashamed to be seen with me and those awful glasses. That's the other thing VBFITWWW do. They love you no matter what horrible fashion statement you may be trying to make or how much Aqua Net you wear in your hair. Linda has certainly been with me through MANY a fasion statements...and I'm-going-to-die-if-he-doesn't-talk-to-me jr. high crushes. I can't even believe she still wanted to be my friend after the 7th and 8th grade. I had a new crush every week. I got sick of hearing myself. I can't imagine how tired she was.

Linda was with me as I became suspicious I was pregnant with my first child and survived my sour cream addictions. She watched me give birth to my middle child and chose my 3rd child's name had she been a boy. She has been a pillar of strength and wisdom through my trials of motherhood. She encourages me, prays for me and loves me.

She was my friend when I looked like this


Why *wouldn't* you want a VBFITWWW? Get yourself one. Today. Please.

I love you, Linda. Happy Birthday!!

Thursday, March 26, 2009

My heart hurts today

at the loss of a dear friend.


I blogged about him last Fall in this post. What I didn't talk about in that post was how I knew Ed.

13 years ago I was working for a county Office of Education and my boss did some grant work with 3 of her peers. One of them was Ed's wife, Suzanne. We worked many weeks on a "train the trainer" curriculum for mentors of beginning teachers. Lots of long hours, but lots of good memories. I created all the materials/handouts from charts and notes and chicken scratch that the "brains" (Suzanne, my boss and 2 other ladies) had created during work retreats and through faxes/emails. But we finally finished all of it and headed to Sacramento for the presentation.

Ed showed up with Suzanne on the first morning as we were setting up. He looked over all the materials and decided he wanted to see if I was interested in coming to work for him. It seemed he was on the start-up team for some new fancy place that was intimately involved with the deregulation of California's electricity markets. I smiled politely and chuckled because I really thought he was just being nice and making conversation with the grunt worker.

Plus I knew NOTHING about electricity. I typed fast. I knew how to make a pretty mean Powerpoint presentation. I was detailed oriented and extremely organized. But that was it...and none of it had anything to do with a Megawatt.

A couple of weeks after our presentation my boss received a call from Ed. Apparently he was pretty serious about the job. She encouraged me to apply and see what happened. I faxed my resume to the individual scheduling the interviews and was delightedly scared when I got an interview the next week. I never even saw Ed before I was offered a job the following week with an entirely different department. As a matter of fact, I worked there an entire month before I saw him. But when I did he shook my hand and smiled that wonderful smile and welcomed me. He chatted with me for a bit and asked how everything was going and offered up any kind of help I might need for anything.

It was the start of a wonderful friendship.


It was 2-1/2 years before I would finally work directly for Ed. He was giddy when I showed up in his office for my first day. And I was just as happy to be part of all the the middle of the control room. It was huge for me and Ed was always there to explain things, offer a few kind words and pile a couple dozen work orders on my desk. He encouraged me to pursue a bigger role in the control room and I dove in. After I jumped through all the hoops and was finally offered a position in the Operator-in-Training program, my biggest supporter in all of this was Ed. He was a constant figure for me and was delighted at my excitement, even as his own career there came to an end. I cried the day he left.

And I find myself crying again. But this time the pain is deeper and more permanent. I shall miss this man greatly. He was a wonderful soul, full of compassion and generosity. It wasn't always easy for him to express his thoughts and feelings through words, but his actions spoke volumes. He was my mentor. He was my friend.

I will miss you, Ed.

Until we meet again......

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


There. I said it. It's out there for all the world to see, absorb, contemplate, then laugh. Go ahead. It's okay. I can take it. And just because I said it doesn't mean I have to hit "publish post" on blogger. It is, after all, MY blog. So neener-neener. Yes, I have a bit of an attitude. I blame it on the 157.

Stupid 157.

It was the number displayed on my scale 2 days ago. It jumped out at me like a grasshopper does when you are looking at it with wonder when WHAM! That little sucker jumps on you and you start flailing around like an idiot with your arms waving wildly in the air wondering if it is in your hair. Or worse, your bra. Yes. It was a lovely sight.

I tread lightly on this topic because I realize weight is a very personal thing for people. It's one of those things that, frankly, I don't think about very often. I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin, even at 157. I know that some people are not comfortable at 125. I know that some people are perfectly okay at 170. It's all VERY personal. But this is the heaviest *I* have ever been in my entire life....including March 3, 1992, just one day before I delivered my last baby. I'm 20 lbs. heavier than that day to be perfectly honest. And I might as well be honest. I mean, I've already come clean about my weight. I'm also 43. I might as well tell you that, too.

Stupid 157.

So if I'm comfortable, why the flailing grasshopper dance?

Because 160 scares me, people! And at 5'2" it should.


So this is my official "come clean" party. I have reached my stopping point and it's time to get serious. I need to attack that back fat with a vengeance! (I didn't even realize I *had* back fat until I looked at a picture recently.) I need to get this weight off and I need to start NOW. It really isn't that I'm uncomfortable with myself, but it IS that I don't feel 100% wonderful. I feel tired and lazy. My hip is hurting more than it ever has. I'm pretty sure my heart could use a good workout. And I refuse to go up a pant size. I don't care how big the muffin top is. I'm not buying another size. I'll just go hang out with the 18-22 crowd that seems to sport the muffin top as a positive fashion statement.

Does it seem weird that I'm announcing my weight before I reach my goal? (Which is to lose 30 lbs.) I mean, I think people start their journey and once they reach their goal they announce the weight loss and what their heaviest point was. But I'm putting it out there because I want to be accountable for it. Anybody who reads my blog will now know how much I weigh. I think it will work for me. I'm getting a jump start on announcing my heaviest point. Because it's 157. I refuse for it to be 158. Or 159.

Because 160 REALLY scares me.

I also contemplated posting a "before" picture. My starting point. 157. Back fat and all. But I decided against that.

You're welcome.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009


I hope this look never comes back in style.


I just don't see Troy embracing red polyester. Or maybe my real fear is that he would.

What fashion fears do you have?

Monday, March 16, 2009

It's his last year

as a teenager. My middle child turned 19 today. You remember him, right? The dirty, greasy motorhead? Who doesn't know how to patch holes in the walls?

Yeah. Him.


Here he is contemplating the meaning of having one year left of his teenage years. One year of having the excuse of youth on his side. One year left of being on my medical insurance.


This look is the fear of one year left on my medical insurance. This is *the* child who needs to be on my medical insurance. Trust me on this. Remember the greasy, dirty motorhead? Yeah. He likes to have FAST greasy, dirty things.

I love this child. He is an independent thinker with big, lofty goals in life and he is determined to make them come true. He is also quite stubborn....just stubborn enough to make it all happen. Ahhhh....I'm sure there will be bumps in the road. It goes without saying for this Type A personality. But with all the greasy, dirty motorized FAST things he will fly over the bumps with ease.

Happy Birthday, Nathan! I'm so proud of you!


Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Happy Birthday, Missy!

17 years....and still waiting for mom & dad to grow up.


There are many, many words that I could put here. The fact that my girl has grown up in the shadows of 2 brothers put her at a disadvantage of sorts.


She did not learn proper etiquette and as a result belches, announces bathroom visits, and doesn't know how to properly wear nylons. She has a pretty difficult time walking in any type of shoe with a heel on it, doesn't understand why she should cross her legs with a skirt on and she follows up with details after the bathroom visit. Sometimes. And she doesn't always know when to use her indoor voice. She is loud, people.

She also can't get away with a thing because one brother checks up on her to keep her out of trouble and the other one squeals like a pig to get her in to trouble.

She does, however, have a fondness for girly things like makeup, the color pink and Hello Kitty. She has had more color changes to her hair in the last 2 years than I have had in the last 30. We won't even go in to the discussion of boys because it makes my stomach upset. And this girl can make me laugh! She is full of silliness and humor like neither of my other two children. She is quick witted and funny. But not as funny as me. (Some of you will get that joke. You know who you are. And it's not really a joke, is it?)

But there is no denying that she is, in fact, mine.




After all, who else would pose for pictures like this except my own flesh and blood?

Happy Birthday, Lindsay. I love you for always being the one that makes me laugh.


Monday, March 2, 2009

I gagged so hard....I puked.

Yes. I know. But it's true.

So we've had this smell in the kitchen for about 4 days.

Day 1: thought it could be a pan that Troy had fried chicken in the night before that was soaking in the sink. It stunk for sure. Washed it all up. Yippee. Later that day it was still smelling a bit so we figured there must be chicken parts in the trash. Trash went out. Yippee.

Day 2: Smelling worse. So we think it might be the garbage disposal. We run some hot water down it, bleach, then several cut up lemons (we have a lemon tree outside). Cleaned. Yippee. Later that day it is still smelling so we start looking in the refrigerator for something...ANYTHING...that could be rotting. Nothing. We look at all the bagged potatoes/onions. All fresh. Crap. Open windows.

Day 3: Okay, now it's just pungent. And it no longer smells like food. So we start to suspect it's a dead animal and the smell is definitely in the kitchen. So while I'm at work yesterday my husband and oldest son empty all the cupboards, pull out the fridge, look under the sink, pull out the dishwasher. So Troy starts thinking it must be in the wall. All the windows are open. It's not good, people.

Today, Day 4: We get back this morning from an errand, walk in the house and just can't take it. So we walk in there, determined we are gonna find this problem. I swear Troy was ready to chop in to the wall. It WAS BAD!! So he starts by moving the fridge out. We stand there and decide that is the area it is certainly coming from. The odor was just a little more than I could bare....but I was hanging in there. Troy decides that maybe....*just* maybe...something is under the fridge. It's the one place he didn't look yesterday. So he grabs his tools, takes off the metal plate on the back to expose the underneath part of the fridge. The odor hit me like a brick in the face.


There it was. Troy announces to me we have a mouse. It's dead....and ripening.


So I'm instructed to get a plastic bag, some cleaning supplies, rubber gloves and a roll of paper towels. Troy puts on the gloves and promptly removes the mouse....uh, LARGE mouse....


.....and puts it in the


trash bag and I walked it outside to the trash can. I walked back in and the smell hit me again.


I made a bee-line for the bathroom and got there just in time.

I don't do dead rodents, people. God bless my husband for getting that mess all cleaned up under the fridge. Our house has been reclaimed and I can actually watch TV without gagging.

And how was your day?
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