If This Blog Was a Baby It Would Have Been Taken By the State By Now.

So neglected, this blog .... sooooo neglected .....

It's become obvious that there will be some changes in my life, that things need to change if I'm going to be truly happy.  Starting towards your dream career at 33 is exciting but also incredibly daunting when you think of just how long it could take.  I refuse to compromise the standards I have for how my children are raised for anything. 
I've talked before about the struggle of being a work outside the home mother.  I'm simply not around my kids as much as I want to be.  My husband is more supportive than most, but there are still implied jabs that I'm not "all about the kids" from him and others.  And you know what?  I never thought I would work after I had kids.  But things change and we are in a position where I need to work.  And now I will most likely be switching departments with guidelines that I have to go full time within the next two years.  These days it's more likely that both spouses have to work then one can stay at home. 
And that is NOT our fault.
The argument "well you could just cut back and then you could stay home" makes me see red.  We never go out, I cook for the family 95% of the time, and I'm wearing a dress right now that I bought 7 years ago.  And we still baaaaaaaarely squeak by every month.
My whole thought process on this started when I got back from Seattle.  My husband was rude and obviously annoyed with me when I got back.  Why?  Because I told him that I went out to events and parties the nights that I was there that were directly related to the conference I was helping out with.  Could I have stayed in the hotel?  Yes.  But why would I?  Why isn't it ok for me to enjoy a city that I wouldn't have been able to go to on my own?  Why is it STILL - in 2012 - not ok for a woman's first thought process to not constantly be putting someone else in front of herself?

I have two gorgeous daughters who are going to do big, amazing things.  And one day I'll have to send them out into the world and look on as their hearts get broken and they realize that not everyone has their best interests in mind.  But until then I can show them that it's alright to take care of yourself just as well as you take care of everyone else.  That they are worthy of every great thing that will ever happen to them and to enjoy this life, this one life that they have here to make their dreams come true. 
 Pictures from Easter with their favorite cousins ...

Hey You Guys, My Husband Took A Picture Of Me.

Sigh.

Make Granola, Not War

True story - I once worked at this super-fancy gym for a summer just because I wanted to be able to work out there for free.  Everyone who worked out there came in in designer work out clothes and full makeup and drove these gigantic SUV's.  Obviously I looked slightly out of place pulling up in my '01 Focus and running on the treadmill in stretched-out yoga pants.
I was working at the front desk and one day this family that looked like they had stepped out of a J. Crew catalogue came in and my coworker nudged me and pointed and the trophy-wife had "PINK TACO"* written across the ass of her pants.  I shit you not.  Her kids, who were behind her, were old enough to read.  When I recounted to the Mister he said I should have told her her pants were on backwards.  I LOVE THIS MAN.

 One of the Pilates teachers who worked there was always super cranky and the staff couldn't stand her.  One of my front desk bitches said this chick was on the "Master Cleanse".  Have you heard of this?  No?  Wikipedia, help us out, will you?

Master Cleanse is a modified juice fast that permits no food. There are three parts to the regimen. Each morning one drinks a cup of water with 2 teaspoons of salt or a cup of herbal laxative tea. This is followed by six to twelve lemonade drinks during the day. Finally, a cup of herbal laxative tea is taken in the evening. The lemonade is made from purified or spring water, fresh squeezed lemon juice, organic maple syrup and cayenne pepper. The alleged purpose is to "detoxify" the body and remove excess fat. The regimen is followed for a minimum of ten days.

Because nothing says I'm healthy and sexaaaayyy like having non-stop diarrhea and routinely fainting since all you're allowed to consume is cayenne pepper lemonade.  No wonder this woman was bitchy.  My regular talking voice would have been full-on yelling.

There are lots of cleanses out there and for the life of me I can't figure out why people are so into them.  Quick fix?  I guess - but you also gain back any weight you lose when you go back to eating regular food.  That they're even referred to as "cleanses" kills me - your body does a fine job of removing toxins itself, as long as you eat right.  When you attempt to "flush toxins" with an extreme diet you also upset the balance of good bacteria in your gut and leave your immune system compromised, and you can do serious damage to your digestion.  And you will probably be like Bitchnado Pilates Instructor and people won't want to be around you.  

  Instead, just make granola, ok?
My mama always made granola and we would eat it like cereal in the morning, and use it to top apple sauce and yogurt.  This is my own, loosely measured recipe.  I tend to use whatever I have on hand and once substituted finely chopped up apple for the dried fruit (I added it for the last 20 minutes so it would dehydrate) and it was extra good - the fruit juice means you don't need to use as much honey.

Mama's Granola 

3 c rolled oats
1/2 c each finely chopped almonds, walnuts, and pecans (or whatever nuts you have on hand)
1/2 c raw sunflower seeds
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 c whole wheat flour
1/4 c water
1/4 c honey (or agave nectar for vegan version)
1 1/4 c dried fruit (raisins, blueberries, cranberries, goji berries, whatever you prefer) 

Preheat oven to 250.  On large rimmed baking sheet mix oats, nuts, sunflower seeds, cinnamon, and whole wheat flour.  In a small bowl whisk together water and honey.  This will be the "glue" to bind your granola a bit more.  Pour over oat mixture and toss well with a spatula.  Bake for 1 1/2 hrs, until granola is lightly toasted on top, tossing mixture every 20 minutes to toast evenly.  Add dried fruit for the last 5 minutes of baking.

This recipe makes a LOT of granola, but don't worry, I know two minions who can help if you don't finish it all.

 *The "Pink Taco" from what I gather is a bar in Florida that caters exclusively to assholes impressed by a vague vagina reference. 
 

The 'Bean

I smell the fowlers, Mama.

Little string bean.  She certainly doesn't get this skinny-ness from me.
So these would be my favorite pics of the week .... Least Favorite Thing, you ask?

Getting OLD

My elbow all of a sudden is all wonky if I type for too long.  My knees get all jacked up when I run.  And I woke up this morning feeling like I had been beaten - back sore, neck sore - and looked kind of like this:

 I'm exaggerating, obviously.  I was not wearing a cool sparkly tiara and I don't wear glasses.

F-ing aging, though - kiss my ass.  

Song I Can't Stop Singing:

If I Had A Gun by Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds

 

Love, love, love.  It's giving me an Oasis fix.

I Can't Stop Eating:

Greens.  I'm experimenting with collard greens currently.  I'm determined to find a vegetarian preparation for them that is just as satisfying as the ham-hock version.  Stay tuned ...

I've also discovered Chia seeds.  They are the highest source of Omega-3's for any plant source and high in protein.  You can make chia pudding by soaking them in alt. milk with fruit - it's very filling, so make less than you think you should.  I also mixed the seeds in with the girls couscous the last time I made it.  Mooch: Mommy, what are these little brown things?  Me:  Faerie sprinkles.  Mooch: Cool!

True story - my kids will eat anything if I put the word "faerie" in front of it.  Mooch doesn't like taco shells, so I give her baby spinach and she rolls taco meat up in them and calls them "faerie sandwiches".  Raw spinach.  BOOM.

What I Made This Week:

Crap.  OK I didn't take a picture, but in one afternoon - nay, in about 2 freakin hours - I made an entirely new garden bed by our driveway, made entirely from plants Home Despot had thrown away.  2 rose bushes, mums, a holly (it's an Oriental holly, non-native - but it was FREE!), tarragon, and shasta daisy.  

Since I don't have pics of that though, here are pics of the seashell bouquet I made for my friends' wedding

(Ignore the kids crappy outdoor play table and the stained placemat - I was taking these to send to her in a rush.  The three boutonierres are in front)

She lost her son at 16 to suicide.  She started finding dimes all over the place and decided it was his way of telling her he was still there.  To this day, whenever she finds a dime she says they're from him ... so me and another friend attached a dime from his birth year to the bottom of the bouquet.

She had a gorgeous small wedding at their river side cottage at sunset.  

Rant Of the Week :

Ignorant hate mongers who start drama.  I'll leave it at that, since I'm trying to release that and move on.

What I Have To Do This Week:

I should probably fold the 2 baskets of laundry in my living room.  And maybe just for fun vacuum the floor, since we could reconstruct a scale model of our 100 lb dog out of the hair on the floor.  

PS  - Jury's still out on mystery insect, so feel free to add guesses!

Some More Vaca Pics and a Serious Question.

Hello lovers, it's been a while.
Sometimes, because I'm a great big stupid head, I agree to do 8000 things at once and promise to much to everyone and then end up running to and fro and stressing, not sleeping, etc.  This is kind of happening right now.  My sister is getting married in 11 days, and I'm helping get my parents' house ready for her ceremony and reception, making little belts for my other sister and I to wear (we are dual maids-of-honor, although we both like to point out to her her honor is long gone), and exercising like crazy to look the part of stone cold fox.  Then, a good friend was telling me about her and her long time boyfriend getting married, the day after my sister.  She showed me a picture of the bouquet she wanted and I heard myself say, "I could totally make that for you!"  WHAT?!?!??  So now I am also making her a seashell bouquet and 3 matching boutonierres.  <-I don't know how to spell that.  See, I can't even spell them and I will be making them.  Insanity I tell you.

Anyway, the rest of the vaca pics.  This is Fort Sewell, a Revolutionary War fort.  During the summer there are all kinds of goings-on here, like the Festival of Arts Champagne Reception, which I have very selflessly donated to several times. ;-)

 Excuse my beauty in my stunning beach cover up.  It will be featured in next month's Vogue.

 You can see the front of the fort to the right of the 'Bean's head.

 And what was Bean most impressed with?  Dandelions!  OMG, it's not like we have zillions of these at home! 

 

Nana helping Bean up the back of the fort.

And now, for the question.  I have to ask this in vague terms, forgive me.  It's just a touchy situation right now.

If you have an extended family member who you have been close to for most of your life, but who is now making poor decisions that effect other family, how do you nicely but firmly let them know you can't be involved with them for now?  And, is it ever ok to put up a boundary like that within your family?  And if this person is a parent, how do you allow your children to have a relationship? 

Hello Lambs.

Remember licking the bowl?  Before you had to worry about calories?  This is the minions doing just that, finishing up the cream cheese frosting for the zucchini cupcakes we made the Mister for Father's Day.

 I tried to pull the bowl away and they both started furiously scooping out as much as they could with both hands, which honestly made me proud and reinforced that they are definitely my children.
 I've been quiet lately.  Kind of off and frazzled and not feeling like there's enough of me to go around - so I'm taking vacation the week of the Fourth of July.  And my plans are - nothing.  Nothing!  OK, maybe we will got to the beach, and I have requested that my mom take the girls one day so I can knock out the 8,000 unfinished projects in our house.  But the rest of the time I plan to hang out in our yard and nap. 

 I've also been dealing with some issues in my extended family.  To keep it brief - a family member with a history of mental health issues is spiraling out of control.  The worst part is this person has children.  And they are about to lose their children, and their home (already lost is a drivers license, car, and job).   It is just so heartbreaking to see someone you have admired and looked up to become someone you don't know - someone you don't trust.  It's taking a toll on me.

 The running around craziness, coupled with family stress, has made me realize I need to slow down.  The girls and I were playing on the floor last night and I caught myself twice dazing off - making mental lists of what needed to be done, thinking about other people problems, etc.  I need to remember how to be present and appreciate.  My life does not need to be a shining example to everyone else - my life needs to be lived and appreciated.  The Mister accuses me of always over-scheduling myself, and he's right.  

 I'm finishing up a few projects at work this week so I can leave on Friday with nothing hanging over my head, and for the next week I'm going to practice being present.

 In other news, the garden - ummm.  It is GIGANTIC.  I knew the soil we filled in with (1/2 aged compost, 1/2 top grade organic garden soil) was good - but I had no idea it was THAT good.  If I don't pick squash for a day, the next day we have foot long zucchinis and yellow squash everywhere.  The radish are huge, the beets are huge, the peas spit out a basket full every other day.  
Yesterday I noticed the squash leaves were so big they were blocking the sun from other plants, so I hacked some back.  And in the process discovered 7 huge cucumbers on my cucumber plant, along with 3 more squash.  The Mister said I looked slightly hysterical when I came in.  It is kind of like my garden keeps having illegitimate children in the night.  


 I am off to finish a project or two and get some yard time in with the minions.  Peace!

 

The Wizard of O's

So my husband says to me as I walk out the door this morning - "I like that dress.  You look like Dorothy, if Dorothy was more slutty."
Ummmm ....

 Thanks?  I guess? (And yes, I took these in the bathroom.  DEAL)

And also?  What in the G-D HELL kind of Wizard of Oz have you been watching?!?!??

Love Styles ... Food For Thought

From Wikipedia:
Love styles are models of how people love, originally developed by John Lee (1973,^[1] 1988^[2]). He identified six basic love styles—also known as "colors" of love—that people use in their interpersonal relationships:

• Eros – a passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love
• Ludus – a love that is played as a game or sport; conquest; may have multiple partners at once
• Storge – an affectionate love that slowly develops from friendship, based on similarity (kindred to Philia)
• Pragma – love that is driven by the head, not the heart; undemonstrative
• Mania – obsessive love; experience great emotional highs and lows; very possessive and often jealous lovers
• Agape – selfless altruistic love; spiritual;

Clyde Hendrick and Susan Hendrick of Texas Tech University expanded on this theory in the mid-1980s with their extensive research on what they called "love styles". They have found that men tend to be more ludic, whereas women tend to be storgic and pragmatic. Mania is often the first love style teenagers display. Relationships based on similar love styles were found to last longer. People often look for people with the same love style as themselves for a relationship. These styles are akin to the Greek types of love.

Sweaty Betty

I've just done a lunch time mad dash to Goodwill for some treasure hunting, and returned with a bag o' loot!
  Today's temp is hovering in the high 80's, and the humidity is approximately 1 kajillion percent.  The kind of weather where *no one* (I mean me) can possibly look presentable for more than 5 minutes. 

I am sweating like, well ... me in church*  As I walked back with sweat rolling down my face, soaking my hair, and surely making happy lil' smile imprints on my pants below my butt cheeks, I had to wonder : am I a sweaty freak?  Do I do this every year when it gets hot?  I think I may need to lay the blame on genes.  I'm a mutt really, but predominately French, German, and Irish.  Think brisk temperatures, wind-swept tundra, rocky forbidding shores.  Not blazing sun and stifling humidity.  I also burn and then freckle in the sun, so I avoid it if possible.  Right now I have a farmer tan from working in the garden in tank tops - my shoulders and upper back are a deep caramel, and the rest of me is fish-belly white.  The lovely shade where you can see all my veins and whether or not I shaved my legs this morning.
No, we are not a hot-weather people ... although I do retain fat very well (making me especially hardy through lean winters), I have broad shoulders (I could probably pull a plow after the horse gets tired), and I do possess the famous child bearing hips.  Thanks ancestors.
Oh, and the fabulous treasures have me in a crafty mood.  The crafting gods hit me with a fantastic idea on my walk back, and I will be posting about that in days to come.  Stay cool, chickens!

*Disclaimer - the last time I set foot in church, the whole bloody place went up in flames, so this is a hypothetical situation.  

My new favorite quote

"you boys can keep your virgins
give me hot old women in high heels
with asses that forgot to get old. "
— Charles Bukowski (Love is a Dog From Hell: Poems, 1974-1977) 

I may be only 32, but I'm digging this!

What's going on where you are today?  There is an anti-abortion rally going on in front of my building.  I was walking across the green today and there were signs that read "Warning - Genocide Photos Ahead"  I thought, what is this a war thing?

Nope.  Poster sized pictures of aborted fetuses (what *may* be aborted fetuses - there is a question in my mind about whether or not that is entirely true).

I averted my eyes and got into my building as quickly as possible.  Then I had to leave to go to Mooch's Mother's Day Tea at her school and walk by them again.  When I was returning to my building there were groups of students walking around with "We Support A Woman's Right To Choose" t-shirts on, handing out condoms and yelling, "Be careful!  There are anti-choice advocates ahead with graphic images!"  One of them stopped me and said, "Here, please take a condom"  

I won't lie, my head swelled to about 1 billion times it's natural size when I got to utter the words, "Actually, I'm not a student.  And I'm probably not your target audience, but thank you.  And thank you for being out here"

Then I walked over to some maybe 20 year old hunky looking dude sitting on a bench and handed the condom to him and said, "This will probably do you a lot more good than me."  He laughed and said thank you.

Aaah, the world is crazy.

Underneath my candy shell, I am chock-full of Pagan-y goodness.

Hello all my lovelies.  I don't know what the hellfire has gotten into me, but I am as unmotivated as I could be.  I'm struggling to get through this leeeeettle bit of work I have to get done at work, which may be due to the fact that not of it is pressing and almost no one is there this week.  (Must be nice, faculty!)
Anywho, I have blogged before about Jenna Woginrich's amazing book, Made From Scratch (her blog, Cold Antler Farm, is here)  Be warned before reading - I am now obsessed with homesteading.  Like, am planning to live as MUCH of my land as possible, whether the Mister likes it or not.  Luckily, he is completely on board.
Mister: We are NOT sneaking chickens into our backyard.
Me: You don't love me. *pout*
Mister: No, I don't love getting fined by the city or pissing off our neighbors.
Me: I will only acquiesce if we build another raised bed.  And you have to help me get the other rain barrel ready.  Do you think we could afford solar panels?
Mister, doing this weird head/eye-rubbing thing and turning a funny color: I need a drink.  Did you just use the word acquiesce?  Do you even know how to spell that?
Me: Yes.  (Thank you Dictionary.com)
So YAY on marital harmony and mutual goals.  
One of the amazing points that Jenna makes in her book is integrating re-purposing and re-using into your daily life.  Whenever she needs a new appliance, or furniture or whatever, she heads to a secondhand store.  It struck me as so simple because, duh - #1 it's cheaper, and #2 it's completely green.  With that in mind, I've been stalking our local Goodwill more than I usually do, since I need some updated kitchen stuff.  I am coveting a cast-iron skillet, as well as some big earthenware crocks for storing sauerkraut in, since I have planted a lot of cabbage this year.  I wandered into the book section the other day and spotted a paperback copy of the first Harry Potter book for $1, and hardcover copies of both Cider House Rules and Gap Creek, two of my all-time favorite books, for 50 cents each.  
I was psyched and all but as I left and stomped back to campus the obsessive homesteader voice in my head started up. 
"But if I had chickens I'd have my own eggs, and they could eat the bugs out of the garden, and we could have meat hens so we could have our own fresh chicken, and it would be so fun oh I want them I want them I WANT THEMMM!"
When I looked up and saw this:

So clearly the Universe is telling me to chill the fuck out, I will get my damn chickens eventually.  In the meantime, keep on cluckin'.


I don't know about you but personally if I see one more post on FB about "Easter isn't about chocolate, it's about JESUS!!"  I may lose what's left of my mind.  Add that to dude in a dark suit who walked up to me on the street and attempted to shove a pamphlet into my hand, with no explanation.  When I asked him what it was he said, "It's about the way Jesus died for your sins"  "Oh, umm ... tell him thank you, but I don't need your pamphlet."  It's around every Christian holiday that I want to shut off every form of communication with the outside world, sit in my backyard with my family, and just BE without anyone trying to ram a Bible down my throat or lecture me.  
A few years ago I sent an email forward to the mothers in my extended family on Mother's Day, which was a funny little story about a girl giving her daddy "tea" and he thought it was really cute until he realized the only place she could reach water was in the toilet.  I forwarded it with a message saying, Happy Mother's Day, I love you all and hope you have a day filled with peace and quiet.  Nothing controversial, right?
Sigh.
I had forgotten about my signature quote at the bottom, which was this: 
A living planet is a much more complex metaphor for deity than just a bigger father with a bigger fist. If an omniscient, all-powerful Dad ignores your prayers, it's taken personally. Hear only silence long enough, and you start wondering about his power. His fairness. His very existence. But if a world mother doesn't reply, Her excuse is simple. She never claimed conceited omnipotence. She has countless others clinging to her apron strings, including myriad species unable to speak for themselves. To Her elder offspring She says - go raid the fridge. Go play outside. Go get a job. Or, better yet, lend me a hand. I have no time for idle whining. ~David Brin
The next day I got an email response from my cousin, who is Christian - like, did missionary work on her honeymoon Christian.
I won't bore you with the entirety but the gist of it was, it's cute that you believe in an Earth mother, but that has no basis in reality.  If you would just *read* the Bible, you'd see how much sense it makes to be Christian.  
There were also a few allusions to the idea that my parents hadn't raised me right.  And she ended it all with a quote from Napoleon FUCKING Bonaparte.
Umm, no.
I sat there after reading it and shook for 10 minutes straight.  The only thing in my mind was - why?  Why would you attack me when I was trying to be nice?  Why do you need to make it about MY personal belief system?  And WHY ARE YOU SUCH A DICK???
I waited a day for responding to her, and then responded truthfully - that I loved her and her kids and respected their religion, and the only thing that I asked from her was that she respect mine right back.  That my parents had raised me to be kind, be gentle, and be truthful, thankyouverymuch.  That I had in fact read the Bible - why would she assume I hadn't?  
It went back and forth a few times.  What I said to her in the last (thankfully) email was : The minute you start screaming about your beliefs, people cover their ears and walk away.  But if you LIVE them, if you inspire others, if you get around rhetoric and get back to spirituality, you influence so many other people.  I don't need a book written by man, or a church created by man, to interfere in my spiritual life.  No one tells me what is right or wrong.  I have Christian friends who are some of the most lovely, sweet, gentle souls I have ever met, and they inspire me.  I have Pagan friends who move me with their love of our Earth and each other.  And a lot of other religions.  I'm always baffled by the Christian mindset that you need to convert everyone - really?  How boring.  How about, love everybody.  Forgive everybody, cherish everybody.
So I'm trying not to let the busybodies ruin a perfectly fun weekend with my family.  Cause in our house, it IS about the chocolate.

Things That Make You Go .....

GO, go.

 1.) Wal-Mart.  Every. time.  The Mister thinks it's hilarious.  The minute we walk in the door and grab a cart:
Me: OK, so you take the kids and go look around, I'll meet you in a minute.
Him, smirking: Why?  What do you have to do?
Me: Stop talking so loud!  I'll just be a minute!
Him, even louder: THE BATHROOMS ARE OVER THAT WAY, HONEY!  DON'T WORRY IF IT TAKES A WHILE!
Me: Why did your parents ever encourage you to speak?!??
 2.) Card shopping.  I think it has something to do with the fact you have to walk around for a while and it always takes forever to find the right card.  If you see someone reading the cards over frantically while doing a weird little sideways dance, that's me.  Quietly point me towards the bathroom.

3.) Goodwill.  They have bathrooms, but heavens above - do you really want to use them?  And body, why must you always betray me so??
4.) The library.  True story : I had both kids in the kids section, which usually takes hours, and the urge struck.  The only bathroom was the kids one, with wee little potties that sat approximately 4 inches off the ground.  I hustled both kids in while they protested loudly about being dragged away from the books and toys ("Why do we have to come with you Mommy?" "Because YOU have to go potty!" "No, I don't, YOU DO!"  "Why did I ever encourage you to speak?!?")
 The bathroom was just one big stall with one potty, and as I tried to lock the door the dial twirled around without finding purchase on anything.  Yup, broken lock.  OK, well I know this will only take like 5 seconds.  I sit down and start to go as the kids pull yards of paper towels out of the holder - when the door flies open and in walks some soccer mom with one of those hideous Vera Bradley purses. 
"Oh!  Umm, sorry - just let us know when you're done!"  *Slams door shut*  Sadly there was no window to crawl out of with both kids, and it didn't seem like the ventilation system could handle the weight of 3 of us.  

Special thanks to Dark Mother and her ass, for reminding me that sometimes my ass has a mind of it's own.

Things I'm OK Not Being OK With

My mind is just one big jumble this week.  
I rode my bike home from work yesterday and since the Mister and the kiddos were out, immediately changed into my muck-about clothes and dug some more of the garden bed.  If you haven't read Jenna Woginrich's book yet, Made From Scratch, it is amazing (and her blog is here) she has a chapter where she talks about planning her 15ft garden bed and then halfway though digging up the turf she has gone through 2 pairs of gloves and her back feels like it's going to break, and she decides to down-scale.  I wasn't quite that bad - our bed will be about 8'x10' - but now I know why the universe had me wait to start this project.  If I didn't want this so bad that it's driving me slightly insane, I would have definitely given up by now.  I very much wanted to do it all by hand, and it is backbreaking - to pull up the turf, I use a sharp shovel and outline a strip, then work the shovel underneath to loosen it, then get down on my knees and attempt to shake free as much of the soil and worms as possible.  Half of the strips are going into the compost bin, the others are being piled up to become fillers for the rain garden project.  While digging and working the soil I tend to let my mind wander - my Grammom always said if you have a problem, go dig in the dirt.  I have two family members who are dealing with mental health issues, both mothers.  Family members around them are both offering up advice to them of : "Well if you'd just do ____, then this would go away".  It frustrates me to no end.  But then I tend to turn that pointing finger on myself and realize that I send out subtle judgments myself.  While this kind of tumbled about in my brain, something inside me said : You don't have to accept these things completely - it's OK not to be OK with them.

So I've decided to compile a list - a list of things it's OK not to be OK about
1.)  That my husband straight-up ignores household projects.  And I'm not talking about, I would like all my ceiling fans finished in gold-leaf (I don't), I'm talking the handle he bought for the screen door 3 years ago is still sitting on our porch.  I have to motivate him, when no one motivates me - and I'm not OK with that.

2.) The mother who drove her car into a river with 4 of her kids, killing 3 of them.  I don't care how freaking depressed YOU are, don't punish your children.  Bitch could have dropped them off at a fire station and then taken care of herself.  

3.) That a friend I've lost touch with hasn't reached out.  I miss this person immensely.

4.) People who flagrantly abuse the environment and laugh it off.  The ones with the gigantic Suburbans who eat tons of junk food and plop their kids in front of a TV set, and think worms are gross.  A co-worker of mine once referred to a woman we worked with who was like that as "your typical fat American".  

5.) People who use elevators when they don't need to.  See above.  I once almost got into a brawl with a woman at the Smithsonian because she was taking her 3 kids, who had been running around on perfectly good legs, up the elevator while we had to wait with our stroller for the next one.  Same scenario played out at a different museum we went to for a work retreat while we waited for an elevator with my boss, who's in a wheelchair.

6.) That me and The Mister are not clicking right now.  Neither one of us knows quite what is wrong or how to fix it, and we're both annoyed.  

7.) That I can't have chickens!  Really, who would be hurt by me having 3 chickens in a moveable pen in my backyard?  WTH, city bylaws?

I swear my next post will be more upbeat and have some pictures of our garden progress, I just needed to launch this out into the blogosphere.  No more Debbie Downer!