tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77585708823101399202024-03-01T09:52:29.565-06:00Non-Stop MomRandom ramblings of a mom navigating through life...Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.comBlogger835125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-64223063577620767772017-02-01T02:08:00.000-06:002017-02-01T02:08:39.221-06:00Do Not Mistake My Silence for ApathyA few weeks ago I was trying to come up with subject matter for this blog - because while I want to get back into the habit of writing again, I can't always come up with something to say (which I know is a shocker to anyone who really knows me).<br />
<br />
My only restriction was <i>no politics</i>.<br />
<br />
Someone asked me - why no politics?<br />
<br />
And I never answered - until now.<br />
<br />
Until recently, I was never interested in the political scene. To me, it was a bunch of idiotic blowhards spewing out whatever they felt that John Q. Public needed to hear - and for the most part, that's exactly what it was.<br />
<br />
As an adult, I slowly started paying more attention, but it still wasn't a major part of my life. When I started dating The Dude, I got into it a little more - but it's hard not to when you fall in love with a conspiracy theorist who lives and breathes politics. I started learning a little bit more to either figure out if he was actually mouthing off about something that could possibly be true, or to prove him wrong.<br />
<br />
But realistically, even he and I don't talk politics much. We agree on some things, disagree on others, refuse to discuss some, and generally go about our lives while trying to do our parts to make the world a better place.<br />
<br />
Given the current political climate in this country, it's hard not to discuss it. Take a 5 second look at Facebook and you'll see more than your share of posts supporting one person while disparaging another, outright bashing anyone who doesn't follow similar beliefs, memes trashing one group of people or another, "statistics" supporting/disproving whatever the current hot topic is, and just <i>hate</i>. So much hate.<br />
<br />
Never has this country been more divided than it is right now, and social media is a huge contributor to that.<br />
<br />
People who have always preached love and acceptance are lumping everyone together - Democrat or Republican, left or right, liberal or conservative, Trump or Clinton or Obama, veteran or refugee, protester or sheeple, pro-life or pro-choice, non-religious or religious, LGBTQ/ally or anti-equal rights - you name it, there's a category for it. But what people are not realizing is that not everyone fits into one single category. There is not one all-inclusive label that works for everyone.<br />
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Everyone is so busy screaming and yelling over everyone else that no one is listening. No one can hear anything over the noise.<br />
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Everyone has to prove that their meme, their statistic, their quote, their cause - applies to everyone.<br />
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Everyone seems to forget that one of the things that makes this country great is that everyone has the right to their own beliefs - and it's ok to have different beliefs than your neighbor does.<br />
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It's not ok to force your beliefs down someone else's throat, no matter how strongly you believe them.<br />
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It's not ok to bash someone for not believing as you do.<br />
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It's not ok to spread hate.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1d5XRMz0ZFgm6DbzDzpOVmEnLF27XAQpyPOH48J-WBOFSE85pGjnWAdDB3rrzQSxr0j1ivO8MNIxbudbhV9ytmbZJMmIQJ_gqqr0HX9WiVqpTym3L-v1nmD7fV-pY-meElA1DqZmVQY/s1600/dd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1d5XRMz0ZFgm6DbzDzpOVmEnLF27XAQpyPOH48J-WBOFSE85pGjnWAdDB3rrzQSxr0j1ivO8MNIxbudbhV9ytmbZJMmIQJ_gqqr0HX9WiVqpTym3L-v1nmD7fV-pY-meElA1DqZmVQY/s320/dd.jpg" width="320" /></a>It's not ok to yell at people and tell them IF YOU'RE NOT SAYING ANYTHING, THEN YOU'RE A PART OF THE PROBLEM.<br />
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If you've said this, then let me say this -<br />
<br />
You're wrong.<br />
<br />
I choose not to say anything not because I am content with what is happening, because I'm not.<br />
<br />
I choose not to say anything because if I admit that until now, I've had zero interest in politics and I am just starting to figure it all out, you'll bash me for being uneducated.<br />
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I choose not to say anything because I'm struggling to listen to everything that everyone else is saying so that I can do my own research to learn the details and clarify my own position before I have to defend it to you.<br />
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I choose not to say anything because I know that no matter what, someone is going to scream at me and tell me that I'm wrong and not give me a chance to explain why I feel the way that I do.<br />
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I choose not to say anything because I don't want to fight with you.<br />
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I choose not to say anything because I'm tired of hate.<br />
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I'm tired of anger.<br />
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I'm tired of fighting.<br />
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I'm tired of our differences pulling us apart, instead of our similarities uniting us.<br />
<br />
Now - more than ever - is the time to lift each other up<i> in spite of </i>our differences.<br />
<br />
Sometimes you have to be silent in order to listen.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-75894824899556454682017-01-19T01:32:00.001-06:002017-01-19T01:32:50.310-06:00On birthdays and life....I don't know if I've ever really gone into Alex's story before....<br />
<br />
My divorce from Ex1 had been final for several months when I met Alex's father. We were introduced by a mutual friend at a bar one night - I was being hit on by a really skanky guy (oh my hell was he skanky) and a friend of mine was the bartender. She came out from around the bar, grabbed me, shoved me into this group of guys and said "this is my friend - take care of her" and then went back to her post. As it turned out, one of the guys in this group was her cousin.<br />
<br />
Long story short, we started dating. One thing led to another, and boom - I was pregnant.<br />
<br />
As soon as I told him the news, he "needed space".<br />
<br />
I was at work one night when I started having sharp pains in the left side of my abdomen. I tried to ignore them, but they got more and more intense as the night progressed. When my relief showed up at midnight, I split and drove myself to the hospital as fast as I could. I was only about 7 weeks along, so I hadn't actually seen my OB/GYN yet, but I knew something was wrong. I got to the ER, went through the preliminary BS, and could tell from the looks of the nurses' faces that it was bad. So I called him.<br />
<br />
He showed up. But that was about it. I was in a panic, knowing that I was going to lose the baby. After hours of testing, the ER doctor informed me that I had a sub-chorionic hemorrhage and I was more than likely going to lose the baby. I never felt so alone in my life, even though my baby's father was in the room with me.<br />
<br />
I was eventually sent home and told to schedule a follow up with my OB/GYN. As I sat in his office and he told me that I had less than a 50% chance of carrying this baby to term, I freaked. I knew that realistically, my life was a mess. I was a newly single mother with 3 very young kids, and the last thing that I needed was another one, but suddenly I knew that no matter what, I wanted this baby to make it. I didn't look to this baby as a way to get his/her father back into my life, but I looked to it as another reason for me to live.<br />
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I was in such a deep, dark hole at the time that I didn't know where to turn. I knew that if something happened to me, my 3 kids could go and live with their father and everything would be fine. But this baby - this little being who only had me to count on - I knew that he/she only had me. And that thought kept me going. This baby gave me a reason to be strong and to do what needed to be done.<br />
<br />
When I found out just a few weeks later that this baby was going to have a sibling who would only be a few weeks younger than he was - I didn't have a very kind reaction. In fact, I was downright hateful, nasty, and mean. Realistically, those reactions did nothing to benefit me. I knew that I was going to be raising this baby on my own - and finding out that there was another woman pregnant by the same man at the same time did nothing but cement the fact that I was truly on my own at this point.<br />
<br />
At one point during the pregnancy, Ex1 actually took me to court to try to gain full custody of the older 3 kids. He used the reasoning that my previous pregnancies had been so hard on me (they hadn't) that an unplanned one would just be too much stress and the kids would be better off with him than they were with me. Luckily, I made it through that ordeal with no changes to our custody arrangement - and it gave me more motivation to power through all of it and show just how strong I could actually be.<br />
<br />
Alex decided to make his appearance almost 3 weeks earlier than he should have. I wasn't prepared for his arrival - even though I was already at the hospital with a sick kid when I went into labor. But his birth showed me that no matter what, something wonderful and beautiful will always come out of the storm.<br />
<br />
He's been challenging. He's been difficult. He's had more health issues than the other 4 kids combined. But he's the most loving, most compassionate, most loving little being on this earth - and his hugs are enough to make the worst days seem just a little bit brighter. He's had to put up with me 24/7 but at the same time he's shown me that no matter what, he still loves me - and occasionally he even likes to hang out with me. And those moments are my favorites.<br />
<br />
Happy 11th, Alex.<br />
<br />
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<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-46940071875459184062017-01-17T23:42:00.000-06:002017-01-17T23:42:42.151-06:00It's been a while...I've been seriously neglecting this old blog of mine, and it's really been bothering me lately. But the thing is, when I think of something that I want to say I usually just spout it off in a long-winded facebook post instead of taking the time to sit down and actually <i>write</i> about it.<br />
<br />
I'm hoping to change that. But like anything else, I have to make time for it to happen.<br />
<br />
I asked for suggestions as to write about the other night, and my running seemed to be a pretty common theme - which is interesting considering that the last time I blogged anything, it was about running.<br />
<br />
I generally don't think of my running as anything special. It's something that I started doing maybe 7 years ago, and mainly because I had people tell me that I was too fat and lazy to ever do it (no, those people are not in my life anymore). I didn't really take it seriously until about the last 2-3 years or so - and now it's something that is more important to me than I ever realized it could be.<br />
<br />
Back in 2011, when I was just starting to get into running, I did my first half-marathon. I walked most of it, but I did it. And later that summer, I looked something like this.....<br />
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This picture actually just surfaced. The kids and I had gone on TMOART:11 (back before The Dude existed) and one of them snapped this picture of me coming down the steps from the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. They were using disposable cameras, and we just got them developed the other day - so seeing this picture was a shock.<br />
<br />
Even though I've seen numerous pictures of me in a less than stellar light, my size still shocks me at times. I never really thought that I had gained that much weight, but I had.<br />
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I don't talk about my depression much (if ever) but if I'm being totally honest, my weight gain was a direct result of it. The stress of two failed marriages, being a single mother of 5 kids, and not having any clue how I was going to pay my bills got to me. I didn't do anything to stay active, and as anyone who has ever been poor knows - crappy food is way cheaper than healthy stuff. So I ate the cheap crap and tried to feed my kids the better stuff.<br />
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Eventually, the funk started to lift. I started walking more. And then I started running a little bit. I'd walk a block, then run a block, walk a block, run a block. And then I'd walk a block and run two blocks, then three, then four. Soon, I was running more than I was walking, but I still wasn't picking up speed. But eventually, I got to the point that I started getting faster.<br />
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And then I started really enjoying the races. The adrenaline rush is like no other. And the running community is fantastic - it doesn't matter if you're the first runner or the last walker to cross the line - someone will be there waiting for you and cheering for you as you cross the finish.<br />
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One of my favorite things about running is that it doesn't have to cost a fortune. When I started, I wore my normal shorts and tshirts and cheap running shoes. I used a free app on my phone to track my distance (RunKeeper - and I still use it to this day) and I didn't even have anything to play music. I just ran.<br />
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As time went on and I started getting more into it, I did buy some specific clothes - mostly tights and compression shorts because face it - unless you have a thigh gap, <i>chafing is real</i>. And it hurts. And it makes you walk funny for days until it heals. (FYI - diaper rash ointment helps. You're welcome.)<br />
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Good shoes were my next major purchase - but it still took me a while to work up the guts to pay more than $50 for a pair of sneakers. So far my favorite pair is my current pair - the Brooks Ghosts that I bought after running the Nebraska State Fair Half Marathon last fall. But I know that I'm going to need to replace them soon, and the cost of a new pair scares me. Because I'm cheap.<br />
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I did splurge this year and I bought a membership to the Y. I didn't really want to spend the money, but with the crazy Kansas weather, I need a way to train indoors. The kids can go with me and they can swim or shoot hoops or play ping pong or do whatever they want to do to keep themselves amused while I pound out some miles on the treadmill or the elliptical or whatever other torture device I decide to use that day. Emily and I have a goal right now to run every day - even if it's just a mile - and so far we've been able to stick to it (and I have this nifty calendar on my bedroom wall to track my progress toward that goal).<br />
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As of right now, I think I'm only signed up for 3 races this year - both of the Prairie Fire Half Marathons in Wichita (one in April and one in October) because those are my traditional races that I will always always do until I can't do them anymore, and the Stupid Cupid 2 mile run in Wichita that is in just a few weeks. I haven't signed up for any more yet because, let's face it - the races get expensive. There are several more that I plan to do, but they haven't opened up registration yet so I have to wait and see what happens financially between now and then.<br />
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I'm trying to work up the guts to do a full marathon, but I'm just not there yet.....<br />
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For the last couple of months of 2016, I all but gave up on running. I slipped into a downward spiral, and I struggled a lot more than I'd like to admit. I didn't do much of anything unless I had to do it for survival and I gained a bunch of weight back. It took a lot of soul-searching and willpower and sheer stubbornness to get me back out there again to do a run on New Year's Eve, but I did it. I think Emily and I did a mile. And then we set our goal to run daily. There have been days when she's had to almost literally drag me out of bed to go, but we've gone. And if she's over at her father's house she runs over there and I run here and we compare notes. Now there is a challenge going on here in our town and I'm participating in that - and so my competitive side is coming out and I'm starting to really enjoy it again. And thankfully the scale is starting to show it too.<br />
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I think that the thing that amazes me the most is that at several points in my life, I had people telling me that I was too fat and lazy to ever run - and now people tell me that I have inspired them <b>to</b> run.<br />
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It's really kind of surreal.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-56859405953466623482016-05-01T22:26:00.002-05:002016-05-01T22:26:46.287-05:00Post-race thoughtsWell, I did it.<br />
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I managed to finish another half-marathon this morning.<br />
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I had a <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2016/04/sticky-goal.html" target="_blank">goal</a> when I started out, and I was determined. It was cold and damp and dreary and windy, which made it hard to get going, but once we got moving my <a href="http://reinventingcrazybeautiful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">psycho running partner</a> and I had a good pace going. We both wanted to hit that 3 hour mark, and we wanted it bad.<br />
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We kept it up more than halfway through, and then I started to struggle. I had a shooting pain going down into my knee that thankfully didn't last long, but it was enough to knock me out of my groove. Then I just got tired. And I had to pee - lord, did I have to pee. I debated stopping at the next jiffy john but I knew that if I stopped, I'd be screwed time-wise.<br />
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I kept watching our pace, even as she pulled ahead of me a bit, and as a not-quite-second wind hit I was able to make up some time. With about 3 miles to go, I knew that I had a shot - albeit a slim one - of making my 3 hour goal. So I kept pushing. I found myself having to walk <strike>a few times</strike> a bunch but I just kept going.<br />
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I knew going into the last mile that I wasn't going to make it, but it was going to be close. As frustrated and angry as I was, I kept going and managed to pull out one last strong run for the last 100 yards or so to the finish line.<br />
<br />
Long story short, I didn't make it. I missed it by less than 2 minutes. Looking back at how things played out, I know that it was more of a mental loss than a physical one. The mental battles that I continue to fight every time I run, whether it's for training or for a race - those battles are the hardest.<br />
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So for now, the sticker will not go on my van. It had gotten mixed up with some stuff that I was carrying outside yesterday, and so I just stuck it in the trim beside the door in the laundry room so that it wouldn't get lost. And that's where it's going to stay until I can get under that 3 hour mark. And it's in a place where I'm going to see it every single day. It's a visual reminder not only of how far I've come, but also of how far I have to go.<br />
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I'm disappointed, yes. No doubt about it. But at the same time, I did get another PR by about 3-4 minutes. I'm still improving, and that's a good thing. I know the things that I need to work on, and I have a plan - it's just a matter of making it all happen.<br />
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<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-84382576125008134312016-04-30T22:07:00.000-05:002016-04-30T22:07:15.337-05:00Sticky GoalI'm doing another half-marathon tomorrow. I had to go pick up my race packet this afternoon, and while I was there I looked around at the booths with various running paraphernalia. I found a really cute t-shirt (for $5!) so I grabbed that and then looked at the stickers.<br />
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You know the stickers. The ones with the various mileages on them for races that people have run. I bought one of those today.<br />
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<br />
Many people have a love/hate relationship with the stickers. Some look at it as showing off or bragging, while those who have the stickers are simply proud of the effort that it took to get one (yes, anyone can just go and buy one, but that's not the point).<br />
<br />
Tomorrow will be my 10th half-marathon.<br />
<br />
For the last 6 of those, my time has improved every time. I'm still not a fast runner, but I've managed to improve from just over 3 1/2 hours to just over 3 hours. My ultimate goal <i>right now</i> is to complete a half-marathon in under 3 hours.<br />
<br />
I'm honestly not sure that I can do it tomorrow. I want to, but my head has been in a weird place for the last couple of weeks and I haven't put in the effort that I really should have done in order to better prepare for this one. But I'm going to try.<br />
<br />
That sticker - that silly little sticker - is my goal for tomorrow. Because it's not going on my van until I do 13.1 miles in less than 3 hours. If it doesn't happen tomorrow, it'll have to wait until October - and I don't want to wait that long.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-64048017281643865132016-03-25T01:30:00.000-05:002016-03-25T01:30:47.435-05:00JugglingEver since I became a parent, I've had to juggle.<br />
<br />
Schedules. Transportation. Money. Priorities. Childcare.<br />
<br />
When I became a single parent, I had to add holidays to that list.<br />
<br />
Ex1 and I split just before Thanksgiving, so we immediately had to decide who got the kids for the holiday and who got to spend the day alone. Then Christmas, then New Years....on and on it went until all of the paperwork was signed and dated and we got into a routine.<br />
<br />
Even when we did have a routine, things always changed. He has local family and I don't - so I've always tried to be flexible so that the kids didn't miss holiday celebrations with their extended families. Then other kids came along, and ultimately other schedules - and for me, trying to keep all of my kids together for holidays became a huge juggling act no matter what day we actually celebrated whatever holiday it was.<br />
<br />
I admit that I tried to be difficult about it at times. Sometimes I got my way, and sometimes I didn't. But somehow I always managed to squeeze some sort of holiday celebration into whatever time the 6 of us had together.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, The Dude and I had to make another <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nonstopmom/posts/1041033185953285" target="_blank">crazy road trip</a> to Kansas City, and at some point during the drive it suddenly dawned on me that Easter is this weekend. EASTER IS THIS WEEKEND. How did that happen?<br />
<br />
My brain went into overdrive while I tried to figure out how to make Easter happen within the walls of the house since it was obviously going to happen in the real world no matter what. I already know that I have no chance of having the older 3 kids at all during the weekend because Ex1 and his wife are returning from a weeklong missions trip out of the country and her parents are in town, so they're going to want the kids. Alex's father already made plans to take him for at least a day or two and I'm not going to stand in the way of that. So maybe we can do Easter the following weekend - but I'm running a half-marathon that Saturday, so I'm going to be useless for the rest of the weekend. So maybe we can do it during the week instead and who am I trying to kid because that would just be insane.<br />
<br />
Then suddenly it dawned on me......<i>wait a second. Friday. The kids don't have school. They'll all be here until about noonish when the older 3 have to head back to Ex1's</i>.<br />
<br />
The solution was as simple as breakfast. We'll have a huge breakfast Friday morning, like a big Good Friday/Easter breakfast, and they can get their Easter baskets and we can be pigs and eat junk all morning and then the older 3 can go where they need to go and we got our time together for the holiday (and then realistically, I don't have to cook a big dinner because we had a big breakfast so I'm actually getting off easy here) and it's all good.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNI9PRG7AZ81-y2Tr0TZK2zuc3NYPFb8KPnJabaX_paF9y2WXqwTfWnNKcMmPqIlwa8pmU2CYp9nEJGGq5Yu29jqR4pjAHeElF37ImS1VKoMTtTUUlUo9bEugiV9myWuHdDhkO1YgCcu0/s1600/basket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNI9PRG7AZ81-y2Tr0TZK2zuc3NYPFb8KPnJabaX_paF9y2WXqwTfWnNKcMmPqIlwa8pmU2CYp9nEJGGq5Yu29jqR4pjAHeElF37ImS1VKoMTtTUUlUo9bEugiV9myWuHdDhkO1YgCcu0/s320/basket.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So while I was in the kitchen prepping cinnamon rolls for tomorrow's breakfast feast, Emily teamed up with the Easter Bunny to fill the baskets (including the eggs that we dyed earlier tonight) and then I got the kitchen cleaned up and ready for morning - including loading up the coffee pot so that it's ready to go.<br />
<br />
The constant juggling is hard. There have been times when I've felt as though I've had 87 different things up in the air all at once - some of them were on fire, some of them came at me like bricks while others floated around like feathers, some of them crumbled into dust as soon as I touched them, and some of them slammed to the ground and shattered because I didn't have enough hands to catch them all.<br />
<br />
I think that the most important thing that I've learned over the past decade+ of single parenting is that no matter what, everything is going to work out in the end. We might not get exactly what we want but sometimes the best gift we can give our kids is to show them that we can be flexible and make the most out of any situation. We might not get our big Easter dinner as a family, but we're going to have a hell of a breakfast together before they go off in different directions.<br />
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And then I'm going to sit back with a giant cup of coffee and relax for a little bit. Just because.<br />
<br />
<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-62260440770233965532016-03-01T00:13:00.000-06:002016-03-01T00:13:25.323-06:00Too Close to Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rfedb6hMJkqLQIXnoTY4tUfUkduT25wqUp_cW9-8LzHopKyZ0Ktnd7mqm-Y6qFCRzfglOhJJBKFvo6rwLiKWrCvfCK0AsXDV6Tuu3NGsUfWh9MXLJlMfMll8JqbzOSvD9UhaCYl810Q/s1600/run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rfedb6hMJkqLQIXnoTY4tUfUkduT25wqUp_cW9-8LzHopKyZ0Ktnd7mqm-Y6qFCRzfglOhJJBKFvo6rwLiKWrCvfCK0AsXDV6Tuu3NGsUfWh9MXLJlMfMll8JqbzOSvD9UhaCYl810Q/s320/run.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
This came up on my calendar today, and the timing of it couldn't have been better.<br />
<br />
If you've been following the news (or my page) you know that there was a mass shooting very close to here just a few days ago.<br />
<br />
So close that the cops tore past my house so fast that I couldn't even tell what color the cars were.<br />
<br />
So close that I raced around town, picking my kids up from various places to make sure that they were home and safe.<br />
<br />
So close that we locked our doors - something that we never do - until we knew for a fact that the shooter acted alone and was down.<br />
<br />
So close that I couldn't tear myself away from the media coverage, my eyes searching the crowds on TV, trying to spot anyone that I knew to make sure that they were safe.<br />
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So close that one of my acquaintances was among the injured, and I recognized the name of one of those killed.<br />
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So close that I had no choice but to explain to my kids what had actually happened.<br />
<br />
Too close. Entirely too close.<br />
<br />
The day after the shooting, it was revealed that the shooter had been served a PFA (Protection From Abuse order, AKA a restraining order) about 90 minutes before he went on his rampage. His former girlfriend filed it on him, alleging that he had physically abused her on at least one occasion.<br />
<br />
As soon as that information was released, the discussion of domestic violence began. And of course it's impossible not to read the comments when articles like that are posted. And of course the discussions and the resulting comments and arguments and victim blaming brought back all sorts of not-so-fun stuff from my past - and it's been eating me alive for days now.<br />
<br />
For the most part, I'm over it. Yes, I was a victim of domestic violence. Yes, it was horrible. But my life doesn't revolve around it. It is a part of my past, but it doesn't define me, because I won't allow it to do that. It's not something that I normally talk about on a daily basis - but every now and then, something brings it back to the surface and it eats at me. I think back to all of the reasons <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2014/09/why-i-stayed.html" target="_blank">why I stayed</a> for so long, and I relive certain moments and I feel the pain and the heartache all over again. And then I look at where I am now and realize that no matter how bleak things appeared to be at the time, I'm in such a good place now. But it's a constant battle in my head - between remembering the horrible times in the past and appreciating the good ones now.<br />
<br />
And I know that as a community, we are strong. We are so incredibly strong. The outpouring of support from surrounding areas has been amazing and humbling. Our little rural area of Kansas has been thrust into the national spotlight, and we are shining through the darkness.<br />
<br />
At the same time that all of this was happening, probably even within the same 24-hour period, I found out that not only is one of my friends dying from cancer - but so is another one. I knew about the first one. At least I knew that he was sick, but to receive the news that it had progressed so far so fast hit me like a freight train. The second one? I had no clue. I totally missed the posts about her condition until I went looking for her to ask her a question, and found out that she's dying. <i>The freight train backed up and hit me a second time. </i>Once again, I'm standing here questioning everything. Why do these things happen? Why is it always the good guys? Why can't we all just get along and why can't everyone live long and healthy and happy lives? <b>Why does life have to be so damned hard?</b><br />
<br />
It's been a rough few days, to say the least. I've been forcing myself to go out and run even when I didn't want to - because I know if I don't, I'll just sit here and eat everything and be lazy and be miserable and slide down into that hole that I try so hard to avoid. But luckily I have my <a href="http://reinventingcrazybeautiful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sole Sis/Slave Driver</a> who keeps me going. She keeps forcing me to run, but that's what I need right now - because I know that if I don't get out and run, I'll feel like crap from sitting around like a lump. If I do run, I still feel like crap, but it's a good kind of crap (if that makes any sense at all). And the running is getting easier, and I do feel better - and that helps so much with the mental stuff right now.<br />
<br />
One day at a time. One foot in front of the other. That's all that any of us can do. Keep going, don't stop, and eventually we'll get through all of the crap.<br />
<br />
At least that's what I keep telling myself.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnMgzEamlx5ePG4Uqfmqezergy59DBcPziZJflHHP_k3pnmA3DtbLMcfvTNAKH9tNIUWsfi_f6sMUYu6Fy48MCgE8T4vMPSxm-Try275wOn1u0hOJJ-Ijr9jTtdyEdJQApt4DOi_vAxU/s1600/hesstonstrong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnMgzEamlx5ePG4Uqfmqezergy59DBcPziZJflHHP_k3pnmA3DtbLMcfvTNAKH9tNIUWsfi_f6sMUYu6Fy48MCgE8T4vMPSxm-Try275wOn1u0hOJJ-Ijr9jTtdyEdJQApt4DOi_vAxU/s320/hesstonstrong.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/hesstonstrong" target="_blank">#HesstonStrong</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><br /><br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-1702921369845569282016-02-21T02:10:00.000-06:002016-02-21T02:10:42.293-06:00Bloggy StuffI got an email a few days ago, and the more I think about it, the more I want to talk about it.<br />
<br />
It included phrases like "revolutionary video summit", "video event", "active community", and "win-win with our existing community". I usually ignore these emails because my life is chaotic enough without having to schedule stuff around my blog, but this one was so happy and upbeat that I thought "oh, what the heck" and I emailed her back and said ok, tell me more.<br />
<br />
I got an email back a little while later telling me what I'd need to do to participate in this "revolutionary video summit" as a so-called expert (an expert on what? I don't know.) and there was a list of requirements. A pre-recorded interview. Sending out some emails. Sending out a newsletter. Oh, and did we mention that you have to have at least 5000 people in your email database, but that doesn't count anything that you do on social media?<br />
<br />
At this point (after I got done laughing) I sent her an email back saying that while I appreciated the opportunity I would have to pass, as I don't have an email database and everything that I do <b>is</b> on social media. What I didn't say was that even if I did have an email database, the last thing that I'd want to do is spam 5000+ people to beg them to watch me on video. No one wants to see that shiz.<br />
<br />
When I started this blog, it was at the urging of one of my friends who at that point said something to the effect of "I bet you could have at least 30 people following you!" - I never expected it to get this far. But thanks to that <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-now-infamous-tooth-fairy-letter.html" target="_blank">silly letter</a>, it's gotten way bigger than I anticipated.<br />
<br />
In the early days, I went out looking for people to read my stuff. I promoted myself in so many ways that it was downright exhausting. I celebrated each milestone and did everything that I could to get to the next one. The blog that I wrote about <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2012/11/i-havent-ranted-in-while.html" target="_blank">food stamps</a> put me on the map, and then the Tooth Fairy blew it out of the water.<br />
<br />
The Tooth Fairy letter has been stolen and reposted without being credited back to my page approximately eleventy and a half bajillion times now, and people criticize me for pointing out that it came from my page and asking to be credited for it. <i>"If you don't want the numbers, why do you insist on pointing out that it's yours, you big fat hypocrite?"</i> Well, to be honest, I don't want the numbers - but at the same time I believe in this little thing called intellectual property, and if something isn't your creation, then don't post it as if it is. If the whole Tooth Fairy letter debacle has done anything, it's proven just how fast something can be stolen and spread out of control.<br />
<br />
So why am I blogging about how I don't care about how many people read my blog?<br />
<br />
Because sometimes I need to remind myself why I even started this thing in the first place. Because when it started, it was just a place to express myself, whether it was to journal about things that we had done that day, to rant about something that pissed me off, to express my feelings over a difficult situation, or to post a dumb picture or story that I felt like sharing. There was no purpose, no rhyme or reason. It was for me, and for whoever decided that they wanted to read it. Period.<br />
<br />
Then I started to get worried about what people would think. And so I'd censor myself. I wouldn't write about a certain topic because it might offend someone. Or I wouldn't ramble on about my day because no one would really care about it anyway. But then I went back and I read some of my older posts - posts where I just rambled about the normal day-to-day crap in our lives - and I realized that while it might not be interesting to other people, it was fun for me to go back and read it and remember things.....which is why I started this in the first place. So while I can't guarantee that I'll blog about something fun and exciting every single day, I'm going to make much more of an effort to blog <i>something</i> more regularly.<br />
<br />
I mean seriously - I have some fun and exciting stuff (to me, anyway) going on in my life. Between shenanigans with The Dude and/or the kids, getting <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NSMomCaveDesigns/" target="_blank">Mom Cave Designs</a> up and running as a legitimate business, getting myself up and running <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nonstopmom/posts/1021155891274348" target="_blank">in a bunch of races</a>, and just life in general - my mind goes a million miles an hour. It's time to stop worrying about what people think and actually put some of these thoughts down in writing so that I can look back at them later.<br />
<br />
And if people don't like it, screw 'em.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2SgdaimvsshjNnciOMwuc0cflTP9YgFQFiEzl-YqJK9KWnqR-6XJ4uIgur8nsbb2sqsxUX5nRkrVZSR-P03tI3oupCCQNXT7vL0gRuYuFwhKu4mMfgn4EIzAe2x4ERb48P9amHieVP8/s1600/moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA2SgdaimvsshjNnciOMwuc0cflTP9YgFQFiEzl-YqJK9KWnqR-6XJ4uIgur8nsbb2sqsxUX5nRkrVZSR-P03tI3oupCCQNXT7vL0gRuYuFwhKu4mMfgn4EIzAe2x4ERb48P9amHieVP8/s400/moon.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Random moon photo by Emily, taken when she<br />snatched my phone while on the way to town<br />to pick up pizzas and movies.</td></tr>
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<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-74864255262585562432016-02-19T00:51:00.000-06:002016-02-19T00:51:13.148-06:00Randomness. Just because. I'm in the mood to write, but I can't get my mind to go in one direction, so you're getting random thoughts. I want to get back into the habit of writing regularly, but I'm having issues with it....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_lb1GI0Yf3BFar7za9zn0RbsxgcESCPM4faWsMThJoaq2Uc70LJ8-xVFIOlL7zgPhbEfYgAyOySo8iiyZ2JaXGiQ9K1cbgpWDKQAzhcxglk5iVtHOzLr4PS7F9WRBdB3UG7sxtC8QnM/s1600/wine2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_lb1GI0Yf3BFar7za9zn0RbsxgcESCPM4faWsMThJoaq2Uc70LJ8-xVFIOlL7zgPhbEfYgAyOySo8iiyZ2JaXGiQ9K1cbgpWDKQAzhcxglk5iVtHOzLr4PS7F9WRBdB3UG7sxtC8QnM/s200/wine2.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
So apparently it's Wine Day or something. Like I need an excuse.<br />
<br />
OK, that makes me sound like a lush, and I'm really not - but I like wine. And there are days when I'd like nothing better than to kick back with a bottle and just relax and get over the day.<br />
<br />
Today is one of those days. So I'm partaking. And I'll hate myself in a few hours when the alarm goes off, but whatever.<br />
<br />
I didn't have a good time at the gym this morning. Not that any time spent on the treadmill is necessarily a good time, but today really sucked. I fully intended to do 3-4 miles when I got there and after 2 miles I hit the 'stop' button and quit. I just couldn't do it. But on the flip side, my s<a href="http://reinventingcrazybeautiful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">ole sis</a> and I have really kind of pushed it this week and we're tired. So tomorrow is officially a rest day - at least from running. Not like I'll actually rest....<br />
<br />
I haven't been writing. I miss it. I have tons of things that I want to write about, but I have a million <strike>reasons</strike> excuses why I haven't written lately. The ridiculous <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-now-infamous-tooth-fairy-letter.html" target="_blank">Tooth Fairy Letter</a> made a ridiculous comeback and as usual, the haters came out of the woodwork to remind me yet again what a horrible mother I am. And yeah, as much as I try not to let it get to me the comments still sting a bit. There were a few that really got under my skin, and I might address them at some point. Or not. Haven't decided on that one yet.<br />
<br />
Things with <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NSMomCaveDesigns/" target="_blank">Mom Cave Designs</a> have been gaining speed. That's a good thing. Getting weighted blankets out to people that need them has been amazing and enlightening and overwhelming and eye-opening, among other things. I love that I'm able to do it. I really do. I have ideas and plans and all sorts of fun stuff in my head but I just haven't had time to put them into action yet. I need an assistant. An assistant with deep pockets would be great, but for now I'd just take any old assistant.<br />
<br />
The weather right now is awesome here in the middle of the country. I'll take shorts and bare feet in February and not complain about it.<br />
<br />
Life is good. Life is really good. There are so many things going on right now and I can't even begin to explain all of them. For real.<br />
<br />
And finally, cancer sucks. Seriously. Cancer sucks ass. I'm sick and tired of it taking the good guys. Just for once, I'd like to see it take one of the assholes - but no. Not today. Today, it took one of the good guys. He was an acquaintance, a facebook friend, a fellow alumni from my high school - not a "friend" per se, but still.....it sucks. <i>RIP, Dave.</i><br />
<br />
And with that.....I'm done for tonight. I'm going to try to write on a more semi-regular basis again.......but "try" is the operative word here. Life is crazy. We'll see what happens.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-67461471947110816602015-12-31T19:15:00.000-06:002015-12-31T19:15:00.900-06:00Resolutions and stuffYeah, I'm one of those people this year.<br />
<br />
I don't always make resolutions, but this year I am. And really, they're not new. But I have a renewed determination to follow them.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8c4TGbRwDC3kTgu9B1xA8psFFwfadB8pHN_yoboj1CWRU7ygJFQ0vzS-BNZBt8v7rX5J5oEzKuSE5oy8qID6kgiQbDrRi6weTJybvqfbOEwiM0wYzBQRw0lkDyc6T0vFj637X76WVWV8/s1600/calendar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8c4TGbRwDC3kTgu9B1xA8psFFwfadB8pHN_yoboj1CWRU7ygJFQ0vzS-BNZBt8v7rX5J5oEzKuSE5oy8qID6kgiQbDrRi6weTJybvqfbOEwiM0wYzBQRw0lkDyc6T0vFj637X76WVWV8/s320/calendar.jpg" width="239" /></a>Lose weight. Get in shape. Those are the no-brainers in this case. And thanks to a <a href="https://ilovetorun.org/index.php?ref=challenge_fac2cbb8cf4674c120ceaec8ec721e0c" target="_blank">1000-Mile running challenge</a>, I should be able to do that (and if you want to join, and you click on that link to do it, I get credit for free stuff...and free stuff is awesome) and train for the next few races at the same time.<br />
<br />
And I've gotten some fun gizmos to help, like this awesome calendar from a friend, and an activity tracker thingambob from The Dude, and some hand weights to use while running. Plus, my <a href="http://reinventingcrazybeautiful.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">"sole sis"</a> is doing her evil best to keep me motivated (actually we torture each other, but that's ok). We've been slacking for the past couple of weeks because of the holidays and the craptastic weather, but we'll get back to it. We always do.<br />
<br />
I totally bombed at the whole <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2015/11/putting-it-out-there.html" target="_blank">attempt to lose 25 pounds by my birthday</a> thing, but I think I'm in a better head space to do it now. New year, new start, right?<br />
<br />
Then there's the whole business thing. I'm determined to actually turn <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NSMomCaveDesigns/" target="_blank">Mom Cave Designs</a> into a legitimate business, and not just a hobby that makes me a little bit of extra money. I have no idea how to do it, but I've been looking into taking some business classes and figuring out what I need to do in order to make this happen. The orders that I've been getting have been keeping me busy, and it's been awesome. I love being able to do this - especially getting the weighted blankets out to people who need them, and adding new items to my <a href="https://www.etsy.com/shop/NSMomCaveDesigns" target="_blank">Etsy shop</a> is always fun.<br />
<br />
Write more. I constantly have things that I want to write about pop into my head. And then I get distracted and I don't do it. Or I lose my nerve and decide not to put whatever it is "out there". I've always been very selective about the things that I write about, and I plan to continue that. But at the same time I'm going to try to stop worrying about making someone mad with the things that I want to say.<br />
<br />
Those are the main things that I am focusing on this year. And hopefully, with the support of my friends and family and all of the people who are crazy enough to keep reading what I spew online, I'll be able to make it all happen. Only time will tell.<br />
<br />
Happy New Year, people!Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-6669842501311944952015-12-16T00:43:00.000-06:002015-12-16T00:43:23.923-06:00The Backwards StockingI finally started decorating for Christmas today.<br />
<br />
I went out and bought a fake (ugh) tree, and got it upright and put more lights on it (a story all on its own) and I got the stockings hung up on the mantle.<br />
<br />
Every time I post a picture of our stockings, I sit back and wait for someone to point out that one of them is backwards - because someone does it every. single. time.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKwX-ojUe6UuWd5tqHsePIGJA1XJ9587jZ_HkATHsaqxrAkWDbXa92SxpZY4Csik-pqjqOIPMNF1FoVJ2-JDfnfacnjysEI9qnNsjqw1V6R5HnwTSataa79mmeDSDWSmTsVRzLE-hnvg/s1600/stockings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKwX-ojUe6UuWd5tqHsePIGJA1XJ9587jZ_HkATHsaqxrAkWDbXa92SxpZY4Csik-pqjqOIPMNF1FoVJ2-JDfnfacnjysEI9qnNsjqw1V6R5HnwTSataa79mmeDSDWSmTsVRzLE-hnvg/s320/stockings.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The funny thing is that I don't even notice it anymore. It's normal to me.<br />
<br />
After I got them up, I decided that I was tired and I was going to quit for the night. There's still so much to do and if I keep going, it's going to be way too late way too fast. So I sat down for a few minutes and looked at the stockings and tried to remember exactly why I ended up with one that faced the opposite direction.<br />
<br />
It all started back in 1998, when I was dating Ex1. He told me that he had never had a stocking when he was growing up, and I was stunned. So I set about making him a quilted stocking to give to him that Christmas. I didn't have a pattern, and I didn't have a lot of money, so I used scraps of fabric and made him a quilted stocking and gave it to him.<br />
<br />
By the time that Christmas 1999 rolled around, we had Sarah - so I made two more stockings. The toe on Ex1's stocking pointed to the right. So I made mine point to the left and made Sarah's point to the right. That way, when they were hung up "in order" the toes would alternate. When Emily was born and I made her stocking, her toe pointed left in order to continue the pattern.<br />
<br />
Then life happened, and Ex1 and I split right before Christmas the year that Jared was born. Ex1 took his stocking with him, and Jared didn't get one right away because things were too chaotic. In fact, I made stockings for Ex2, my then-stepson, Jared, Alex, and Daniel for Christmas in 2006 - however Daniel's didn't even have a name on it since we knew he existed but we didn't know if he was a boy or a girl yet. We used the blank stocking to announce to the kids that there was going to be another baby coming. And for whatever reason - probably chaos and lack of time - those stockings all pointed the same direction.<br />
<br />
Fast forward a few years. The Dude now has a stocking hanging with the rest.<br />
<br />
To me, Sarah's stocking isn't backwards. When I look at the row, the first one, the fifth one, and the seventh one are backwards. They should all point to the right in order to have the alternating effect that I planned.<br />
<br />
When other people look at it, they see the one pointing the opposite way.<br />
<br />
In the end though, we all have our stockings. And they'll all be jammed full on Christmas morning regardless of which direction they face.<br />
<br />
Plans change. Life changes. Things don't always turn out the way we hoped, but it's ok. It's important to sometimes stop and look at things from a different perspective and realize that an unexpected result isn't always a bad thing. Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-82310665648159987012015-11-02T23:08:00.004-06:002015-11-02T23:08:43.223-06:00Putting it out there<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFECGjCIqGEVllsbJcBLNWKJZt_IMNtw3z49PHPgl9Jqn2lLsS7J_LmVAh285ySVmR40F52C_THlSkWFVe4ENUP6N0GG8YGQHSeVSDUnxqvV5V5lht_Dnj6c-N0Em8qD83H1vN_Rg8d0/s1600/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtFECGjCIqGEVllsbJcBLNWKJZt_IMNtw3z49PHPgl9Jqn2lLsS7J_LmVAh285ySVmR40F52C_THlSkWFVe4ENUP6N0GG8YGQHSeVSDUnxqvV5V5lht_Dnj6c-N0Em8qD83H1vN_Rg8d0/s320/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
This is my "running shelf".<br />
<br />
The finisher medals that I've gotten are hanging on the left side. All of my bibs are hanging on the right. In the middle is my battered old Penn State hat and my belt that I use to hold my phone and keys when I run. The top has various other doodads, like my watch and mp3 player...and for some reason a little ceramic bowl that one of the kids made is there too.<br />
<br />
This shelf is in my bedroom (note the festive - and very stained - wallpaper) directly between my closet and bathroom doors. I see it many times each and every day, which is part of the reason why I put it there.<br />
<br />
Although I haven't been doing it as much lately, I do enjoy running (sort of). It's hard, and it makes me hurt (mostly in a good way), and I grumble about doing it - but it's something that I never expected to be able to do and it's something that many people over the years told me that I couldn't do.<br />
<br />
But I can do it. I'm not fast, and I'm never going to break any records, but I can do it.<br />
<br />
<b>I <i>can</i> do it.</b><br />
<br />
And I'm going to keep doing it. And I'm going to do it more.<br />
<br />
I've fought with my weight a lot over the years, and it's gone up and down within about a 40 pound range over the past 10 years or so. Without disclosing the actual number, I'll just say that right now I'm about 25 pounds over where I want to be.<br />
<br />
My birthday is in about 2 1/2 months (<b>*cough*</b>72 days<b>*cough*</b>). I'll be 45.<br />
<br />
While running with a group of friends this morning, I voiced something that has been bouncing around in my head for a few weeks now. And now I'm going to put it in writing.<br />
<br />
I am going to lose 25 pounds before my birthday.<br />
<br />
I'm doing it because I want to. I know where my ideal weight is, and it's actually a little beyond that 25 pounds. But getting rid of that first 25 is a good, realistic start. And <strike>if I can</strike> when I get that done, it's going to mean something.<br />
<br />
It's going to mean that I finally took control of my eating and exercise habits.<br />
<br />
It's going to mean that I have proved to myself that there are better ways to deal with crappy days than eating myself stupid.<br />
<br />
It's going to mean that I'm going to be healthier than I am now.<br />
<br />
It's going to mean that I've forced myself to not hide in the house as soon as the weather turned cold.<br />
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It's going to mean that I was able to make a promise to myself and actually keep it.<br />
<br />
And it's going to mean that <b><i>I</i></b> can tell <b><u>myself</u></b> I TOLD YOU SO.<br />
<br />
If I was a hashtag person, I'd call it <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nonstopmom/posts/966899490033322" target="_blank">#25by45</a>. But I'm not, so I won't.<br />
<br />
But watch me, because I'm going to do this. And I'm going to rock it.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-84232381913584037432015-10-05T00:09:00.000-05:002015-10-05T00:09:04.958-05:00SurvivingI had a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/nonstopmom/posts/954419484614656" target="_blank">pretty crappy day</a> yesterday.<br />
<br />
I'm not going to go into the specifics of the situation, because they aren't necessarily important. Suffice it to say that I was involved in an argument in the middle of my driveway and it was loud and it was heated and I lost my cool over the whole thing. It wasn't pretty, but at the same time, I managed to say what I wanted to say (something that I have kept in check for a very long time) and at that point in time I didn't give a crap who heard me.<br />
<br />
But, while I was getting everything off of my chest, so was he (no, not The Dude). The insults were flung at lightning speed, and every one that he threw at me was returned.<br />
<br />
Until he puffed up his chest and got in my face and hit me with the zinger. The one that brings it all back up to the surface.<br />
<br />
<i>"I have to work for a living. I don't get to just sit around on my ass all day like you do."</i><br />
<br />
Suddenly, it all came flashing back.<br />
<br />
His voice wasn't his anymore, but instead changed to a voice from my past and I swore I could smell the booze even though I knew there was none there. I snarked something back at him and went back inside the house and did what I had to do until he was gone, and then I lost it. The Dude held me while I sobbed and until I could catch my breath again. I wanted him to stay for the day but he had to go and so I stayed here with Jared and Daniel. They kept themselves amused with toys and games while I drowned in my thoughts.<br />
<br />
We always hear the phrase "domestic violence survivor" (or something similar to that). I survived it. I got through the physical violence with nothing more than a pair of bent glasses, some handprints on my neck, and a few minor bruises now and then. The physical stuff, in my case, was easy.<br />
<br />
The emotional violence was so much more. The insults - about my housekeeping, my cooking, my parenting, my weight, my hair, and yes, even the fact that I got to sit around on my ass all day and do nothing - were thrown at me on a far more regular basis than the punches were. I knew even then that I was doing my best, but it wasn't good enough.<br />
<br />
Then I realized that my best was never going to be good enough, so I quit doing much of anything. I survived by doing the bare minimum, and I got lazy. The kids were always fed and they always had clean clothes, but the house was always a disaster. I didn't care - because even if I cleaned it, I'd still get yelled at - most likely because in order to get the house clean enough, supper would be later than usual or something equally ridiculous.<br />
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I finally escaped from that life a few years ago. I started a new life and eventually got a new house in a new town and started to really pull my act together. But there is still one box sitting on my bedroom floor that I haven't unpacked from when we moved, there are always random messes in various places, the laundry doesn't get done as often as it should, the grass needs to be mowed, and my kids can sure as hell still give me problems on a regular basis.<br />
<br />
I'm not perfect. Not even close. But I'm so much better than what I used to be.<br />
<br />
But yet, that one insult being yelled at me in my driveway yesterday brought all of that pain back to me like it had never even gone anywhere. I wanted to yell back, to tell him how his idea of me sitting around on my ass was drastically different than my reality, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't say a word.<br />
<br />
That one insult hit me like a punch to the gut and a kick to the head all at the same time. It knocked the wind out of me and took me back to one of the darkest times in my life, a time that I have talked about and written about and analyzed and replayed millions of times. A time that I thought I had "survived".<br />
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In reality, I honestly don't consider myself to be a survivor. I'm not "over it". It's not done and gone and buried somewhere so that it can never come back to haunt me again. It's still a part of me and it always will be, no matter how much time passes.<br />
<br />
I'm not a survivor, but I'm surviving.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Please, do not ask who it was. Other than referring to him as "he", I've intentionally kept this vague, because it's really not important who "he" is. "He" could be anyone, and "he" has been multiple people in the past - I only chose to write about this particular incident because of my own personal reasons.</i></span>Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-62906328664796246622015-09-05T21:35:00.000-05:002015-09-05T21:42:01.366-05:00Pumpkins and PersecutionWe all know <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2015/08/get-grip-people.html" target="_blank">how I feel about pumpkin</a>, right?<br />
<br />
It's gross. It's icky. I hate it with every fiber of my being, and then some. I don't want to taste it, I don't want to smell it, I don't want it near me unless I'm hacking it to pieces in the process of making a jack-o-lantern....and even then I usually gag a time or two.<br />
<br />
So a year or two ago when I was working at the fast food joint, pumpkin season rolled around like it always does. We started serving pumpkin spice coffees and pumpkin ice cream and other grotesque items made with that horrendous stuff.<br />
<br />
Guess what? I had to deal with it.<br />
<br />
I could have told my boss, CrankyPants, that I refused to serve anything related to pumpkin because I thought that it was gross and icky, and she would have shown me the door. I could have quit then and there and just kept going on with my life elsewhere. Or, as I chose to do, I just sucked it up and served the damned pumpkin crap. And life went on.<br />
<br />
I bet you can see where I'm going with this, can't you?<br />
<br />
I am so sick and tired of seeing posts floating through my newsfeed saying that Kim Davis is being persecuted because she's a Christian and she's standing up for her rights. No, she's not being persecuted. She's being punished for not performing the job that she was elected to do, and that she most likely took an oath of office promising that she would do.<br />
<br />
That's not persecution. That's the consequence of <i>breaking the law</i>.<br />
<br />
She can believe whatever she wants to believe. She has that right. Whether or not I agree with her isn't the point. (For the record, just in case you're new here - <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2013/03/on-love-and-marriage.html" target="_blank"><b>THIS</b></a> is how I feel about equal rights.) She's standing up for what she believes in, <i>and that's ok</i>. I don't agree with her, but in a way I almost (<i>I said <u>almost</u></i>) admire her for sticking to her guns.<br />
<br />
What's not ok is that she's not doing her job, and by not doing her job she's violating other peoples' rights.<br />
<br />
She's a government employee. The law says that everyone has the right to get married, but she's using <i>her</i> religious views to prevent that from happening.<br />
<br />
HER religious views. She is trying to impose HER religious views on everyone else in Rowan County, regardless of what religion they practice themselves.<br />
<br />
This country was founded in part on the freedom of religion. But folks, it's not just freedom <b>OF</b> religion.<br />
<br />
It's also freedom <b>FROM</b> religion. People are free to choose not to follow any religion at all.<br />
<br />
If homosexuality, gay marriage, or singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" while driving violates your religious beliefs, then don't participate in those activities. IT'S THAT SIMPLE.<br />
<br />
Don't like it? Don't do it. But the law says that you can't stop anyone else from doing it either.<br />
<br />
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<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-60731219797823495562015-08-19T00:49:00.000-05:002015-08-19T00:49:36.488-05:00Get a grip, people. It's getting to be that time of the year again.<br />
<br />
Fall is coming and people are anticipating cooler weather, and for whatever reason it seems that people just have to equate that with one thing.<br />
<br />
Pumpkin.<br />
<br />
Pumpkin everything.<br />
<br />
Pumpkin <i>all the things</i>.<br />
<br />
Personally, I despise the stuff. I think that the taste and texture of pumpkin is nasty, and yes, I've tried to eat it numerous times, and no, I don't give a crap how YOU make it - I don't like it.<br />
<br />
Pumpkins are good for 3 things: jack-o-lanterns, roasting the seeds after making said jack-o-lanterns, and then smashing the aforementioned pumpkin after Halloween is over. That's it. Nothing else.<br />
<br />
But yet, there are people who worship the almighty pumpkin. As soon as there is a hint of fall weather (or even before), their eyes glaze over, drool runs down their chins, and all they can think about is adding pumpkin to everything edible and/or drinkable.<br />
<br />
They act as though they can only get their beloved squash for a limited time each year - which for the most part is true - if they're going to wait for one to ripen on a vine in their garden. However, with the dozens of people I know who are afflicted with pumpkinitis every year, not a single one of them stands in their garden, guarding the plant, watering it, weeding it, talking to it, waiting patiently for it to ripen so that it can be harvested and cut open and gutted for its (supposedly) delicious flesh. Instead, they do what most people do.<br />
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They go to the store and they buy a can of it.<br />
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See that? I bought that can of pumpkin last year specifically to make a point. It's been sitting on the shelf in my pantry for close to a year so that on the off chance I decided that I wanted a pumpkin pie in June, I could make it.<br />
<br />
Want a pumpkin roll in February? Well, by golly, whip that can of pumpkin off of the shelf and make it!<br />
<br />
You want pumpkin cupcakes in May? Crack that can open.<br />
<br />
Got a hankerin' for some pumpkin pancakes for a delicious brunch in December? Guess what? YOU CAN MAKE THEM ANY TIME YOU WANT THEM.<br />
<br />
You don't know how to cook/bake, or you don't want to? I bet you can find another pumpkinitis victim who would gladly do it.<br />
<br />
Oh, but then there are the people who think that their coffee needs to be laced with the crap too. Pumpkin spiced lattes and cappucinos and whatever - well guess what? Some of them DON'T EVEN CONTAIN PUMPKIN!!! They contain "pumpkin spice" which is usually a combination of cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger, and allspice (all of which are available at any grocery store *GASP* year round). If you don't want to make your own "pumpkin spice" mixture - you can buy it already made and sprinkle it in your drinks until your little heart is content.<br />
<br />
Now from what I understand, some of these places that sell these grossly overpriced fluffy coffee drinks are now adding 'real' pumpkin to them - but a quick google search brought up about eleventy bajillion recipes for drinks with pumpkin in them - so if I had the desire to ruin a perfectly good drink, I could do it myself for a lot less money. <i>And you can too!</i><br />
<br />
Of course it doesn't stop there. Corporations feed into the pumpkinitis epidemic by adding the crap (or some imitation of it) to everything that is prepackaged whether we want it or not - Oreos and M&Ms and peeps and salsa and candles and soap and pudding and bagels and marshmallows and air freshener and cookies and soda and toothpaste and ice cream and it just. keeps. going. on.<br />
<br />
I even found an image for pumpkin spice flavored condoms - which I found are NOT a real product. But I wouldn't be surprised to see them on the shelf at the local drugstore any time now because people will somehow feel that they just can't live without them.<br />
<br />
How long until we have pumpkin scented toilet paper?<br />
<br />
Seriously people. You can buy pumpkin year round. If you love the food that much, make it whenever you want to make it. SEIZE THE FREAKING DAY and make a pumpkin pie in March if it will make you happy. If you love the candles so much and they're not available at your favorite candle store year round, then stock up on them in October when they <i>are</i> on the shelves. Burn them whenever you want to BECAUSE YOU CAN. All of this prepackaged food has the shelf life of Twinkies anyway, so if you love the Oreos that much, buy a case of them and stash them in the cupboard to enjoy year round.<br />
<br />
Stop acting like you can only get the crap for 2.5 seconds out of the year.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4jt0Xi4PEDdwbPlAyYRSTzdVk3NMguVMybk8aXYxRb-bkFj7oRyBX330NdxUzLE2eoGKJ0LNnYLVKM1gNV5tP3glQmioDahyphenhyphen7H7gEo-G0l6WNi9-zhRPKh414CAt1R0RoNSaHvMLa36k/s1600/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4jt0Xi4PEDdwbPlAyYRSTzdVk3NMguVMybk8aXYxRb-bkFj7oRyBX330NdxUzLE2eoGKJ0LNnYLVKM1gNV5tP3glQmioDahyphenhyphen7H7gEo-G0l6WNi9-zhRPKh414CAt1R0RoNSaHvMLa36k/s320/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh look - I still have over<br />15 months to use it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-13605402754556605072015-08-13T02:45:00.000-05:002015-08-13T02:45:07.895-05:00Almost there...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDkGeMsBLCBvlKThTjr9FeTH54CnoXp5yaw0mshnhIDWdZE0G8JKmFAF1OkIBm6sPm9_TkOcmfpqKu-nRXXTM91c0ATe9W3wHOof9uuOWNpkWjP1bQE04FuB2ZYi7ViezsxU7ySatSsc/s1600/11825713_928889450500993_2478790675534959875_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDkGeMsBLCBvlKThTjr9FeTH54CnoXp5yaw0mshnhIDWdZE0G8JKmFAF1OkIBm6sPm9_TkOcmfpqKu-nRXXTM91c0ATe9W3wHOof9uuOWNpkWjP1bQE04FuB2ZYi7ViezsxU7ySatSsc/s320/11825713_928889450500993_2478790675534959875_n.jpg" width="180" /></a>Less than a week until school starts.<br />
<br />
The majority of the school supplies have been purchased, parent/teacher conferences are scheduled, sports practices have already begun, and it's only a matter of time before I dump the kids off at the front door of the school and do the happy dance on the way out of the parking lot.<br />
<br />
I love my kids. I really do.<br />
<br />
But I can not wait until they are back in school. Seriously.<br />
<br />
I've never been one of those moms who greets the new school year with "but I'm going to miss my babies so much" or "I just can't bear the thought of my darling angels being gone all day" or any of that jazz.<br />
<br />
Instead, I'm over here saying "finally, I can poop in peace!"<br />
<br />
After dedicating the past 3ish months to them morning, noon, and night (and then some), I'm ready for some quality ME-time.<br />
<br />
I'm ready to deal with the morning drama, take them to school, and then go for a run.<br />
<br />
I'm ready to go to the grocery store - alone - and not feel frazzled the entire time I'm there (or come home with a bunch of crap that I didn't plan to buy).<br />
<br />
I'm ready to help Emily get her <a href="https://www.facebook.com/crayonsforacause2015" target="_blank">Crayons for a Cause</a> up and running.<br />
<br />
I'm ready to hide out in the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/NSMomCaveDesigns" target="_blank">Mom Cave</a> and work on lots of new projects. I have so many ideas for things that I want to get made in addition to the normal routine of the weighted blankets, and it's so hard to get any of that done when the kids are home - but with 7-8 hours of peace every day I can get so much done without feeling like I'm neglecting them. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I'm totally ready for Date Day with The Dude - on Tuesday, the first day of school, he and I are packing a cooler and our fishing poles and we are taking off for the lake as soon as the kids are safely at school and we're going to just hang out together all day. We might have just spent a solid 2 weeks together, but we did not get any time alone - and ever since we got back we've both been busy taking care of stuff and haven't really had a chance to really see each other - so I called him today and officially asked him out on a date. And he said yes. (I think he likes me.)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've been told before that I'm selfish because I enjoy my time "too much" when the kids are in school. Maybe it is selfish of me, but I look at it this way - I am here for these kids 24/7, whether they're in school or not. I'm lucky enough to not have to work a "real" job so I can spend the entire summer with them and it's awesome. But when they're in school, I get to do what I want to do when I want to do it. I finally get to do stuff for ME, without taking away time from them. I can sneak away for a day and go fishing with The Dude without having to worry about finding someone to keep an eye on them. I can hide in the Mom Cave all day and not worry about who is going to fix them lunch (because I already packed it before they walked out the door that morning). I can go for a run to clear my head and keep myself healthy without wondering if they're burning the house down while I'm gone. And if I want to take a nap in the middle of the day, I can do it without fearing judgment from someone who might show up at the door for some unknown reason.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And if all of that is selfish, then so be it. I know that having the time to myself while they're in school makes me a more relaxed person, which helps me to be a better mother. And I'm ok with that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
5 days, 4 hours, and 45 minutes....... give or take a few......</div>
Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-6383745273493408512015-08-10T23:23:00.000-05:002015-08-10T23:23:11.380-05:00Bit by bit.Know what I hate?<br />
<br />
(Besides pumpkin flavored anything, that is....)<br />
<br />
I hate the feeling of being overwhelmed.<br />
<br />
Whether it's the unending list of things to do, financial obligations, scheduling conflicts, or emotional crap, I don't like to be overwhelmed. I like simple. I like easy.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, life isn't always simple or easy.<br />
<br />
We came back from vacation a few days ago, and I've been trying to get things done ever since. There's so much laundry and cleaning and sorting and catching up to do, and even with my plethora of lists, I'm still having trouble figuring out where to start.<br />
<br />
I spent the majority of the day yesterday mowing the grass. It was wet and overgrown and awful. A job that usually takes less than 2 hours and about a half a tank of gas took me over 5 hours and about 2 1/2 tanks because the grass was so high that it kept stalling the engine. It was a nightmare, but I got it done.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ejmY04S3LJ5r4EUjpN-dO5ansNmwpzKJGTiBK1rmnOAN312uldJ9PNzOJ0yvlyBB7bqhea78SAyDgRbChyf5r5mOgOzmtOwBAjw3o5bK9zr8OsGWx91otIdwK-tOxeVX7z37RZsxFRU/s1600/11863501_10207442249082085_3669476224945790585_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ejmY04S3LJ5r4EUjpN-dO5ansNmwpzKJGTiBK1rmnOAN312uldJ9PNzOJ0yvlyBB7bqhea78SAyDgRbChyf5r5mOgOzmtOwBAjw3o5bK9zr8OsGWx91otIdwK-tOxeVX7z37RZsxFRU/s320/11863501_10207442249082085_3669476224945790585_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>The other really big thing that has been nagging at me, waiting for me to get it done, was weeding the garden. I did it right before we left in the hopes that it wouldn't be so bad when we got home. But, we apparently got upwards of 5" of rain and the weeds went crazy. What makes it more difficult is that we dug this garden this year, so the grass keeps growing back in from the edges.<br />
<br />
I knew I had to get it done today, no matter what. I was tired, I was sore, and I was in no mood to do it, but I forced myself to get out there and do it. The ground was just wet enough that the weeds weren't hard to pull, so once I got started, it went fairly quickly and easily, and although I only planned to do about half of it tonight, after about 3 hours I had it completely done.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN6WuAW8a5nm2LK7VUE64N_RhDuV51Iwd_wCLeXSkCbTQsS366qztFLkUzhDcbf598roJDjATX68oHx-ofGHvJnwmmk6L9xLHqSF5UqF507ksS0fwAjFGRPd0g-C8cEp2V8AGKKrBqCI/s1600/11880418_10207442257962307_3791350962497148949_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrN6WuAW8a5nm2LK7VUE64N_RhDuV51Iwd_wCLeXSkCbTQsS366qztFLkUzhDcbf598roJDjATX68oHx-ofGHvJnwmmk6L9xLHqSF5UqF507ksS0fwAjFGRPd0g-C8cEp2V8AGKKrBqCI/s320/11880418_10207442257962307_3791350962497148949_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I worked on it alone, with Alex and Daniel occasionally coming outside to <strike>tattle</strike> <strike>whine</strike> give me progress reports on getting their laundry put away. As I worked, I replayed various scenes from our vacation.<br />
<br />
I kept thinking about the <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2015/08/get-hit-or-run-for-cover.html" target="_blank">devastating scene with my mother</a>, replaying it over and over again, until I couldn't tell if I had sweat or tears dripping off of my face - or maybe a little bit of both. I'm still trying to wrap my head around what happened, and so far I'm not succeeding at it at all.<br />
<br />
The only good thing about feeling so helpless with that situation right now is that I can flip that good ol' coping mechanism switch. You know the one - it has that crazy label on it that says "If you can't control one aspect of your life, push this button and you can control something else instead".<br />
<br />
Eventually I'll be able to accept this new normal with my mother and get past it and deal with it better than I am right now. At this moment I might not be able to get a grip on the emotional baggage that came back with me a few days ago, but I can sure as hell make sure that there are no weeds in my garden.<br />
<br />
Getting fresh snacks is a bonus.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjldsc9Sc5wQyRtsdGTqMjUmchLKyq4bh-sDFBJ2Y2F2GNnhcxqs0wY43DLzjrzyv-RE5qJ5N56r73ubmDUIJojmdAmzWAwTtkAnvzUQJ8JSUanQzhdkyZEoBxy3QwHe3GjfQbLypNfRk/s1600/unnamed+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjldsc9Sc5wQyRtsdGTqMjUmchLKyq4bh-sDFBJ2Y2F2GNnhcxqs0wY43DLzjrzyv-RE5qJ5N56r73ubmDUIJojmdAmzWAwTtkAnvzUQJ8JSUanQzhdkyZEoBxy3QwHe3GjfQbLypNfRk/s320/unnamed+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-74653187516050089662015-08-09T23:44:00.000-05:002015-08-09T23:44:21.954-05:00Post-vacation crapSometimes I seriously wonder which is worse - preparing to go on a huge vacation, or cleaning up the mess afterwards.<br />
<br />
We got home early Friday afternoon. My stomach revolted against me the second we crossed the Kansas state line (not kidding) and so I felt like crap for the rest of the day. I didn't do much except help unload the van (in between trips to the bathroom) and make sure that the house was still standing. On Saturday we ran around for the big festival here in town, but I managed to get a few loads of laundry done here and there.<br />
<br />
Today was the busy day for me. It was hard to get started, but I kept working on laundry and even though it's not all done I can at least officially say that all of the sleeping bags have been washed, dried, and put away.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5B8rcn_dqUJ8RnDab7SsoTAouXygJNUKW0DXpIx5NWN9yhKF3MwxrN60zUMKrQi1IkPs3eHMqsBY5SMFRsHzT50cUHyyObeLQg4DJuuicC4w-U4mu8fuHF2cbCqYIdv3R6YrnWsF_8vs/s1600/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5B8rcn_dqUJ8RnDab7SsoTAouXygJNUKW0DXpIx5NWN9yhKF3MwxrN60zUMKrQi1IkPs3eHMqsBY5SMFRsHzT50cUHyyObeLQg4DJuuicC4w-U4mu8fuHF2cbCqYIdv3R6YrnWsF_8vs/s320/unnamed+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>I had planned to work outside today, but woke up to a little bit of rain. It stopped, so I decided to go ahead and mow the grass. I figured that if I at least did the front yard, my house wouldn't look quite so ghetto and I could take my time getting the back yard cut. We apparently got quite a bit of rain while we were gone, and the yard was a disaster. What normally takes me about 2 hours and less than a tank of gas ended up taking me 5+ hours and about 2 1/2 tanks - the grass was so overgrown and wet that it was almost impossible to get it done. It still looks terrible because it's all clumpy and nasty, but it's cut - and after it dries out a bit more I'll mow again and get rid of all of the clumps.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2jzOTNsQaDq5MlBvfARZD8f0kpPV8SIKLLnkuaNlKJhPJ4bHQY6U-EEHTT3596fJKZMS5ntUolln6ndlxIMJV-UHomlrpXA8G_gZQaZCsHi2UrNsu88FtnG1JYsKb1j76SzOZ7AKNIU/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha2jzOTNsQaDq5MlBvfARZD8f0kpPV8SIKLLnkuaNlKJhPJ4bHQY6U-EEHTT3596fJKZMS5ntUolln6ndlxIMJV-UHomlrpXA8G_gZQaZCsHi2UrNsu88FtnG1JYsKb1j76SzOZ7AKNIU/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="320" /></a>Once I got that done, I came inside and worked on more laundry and other stuff. I really didn't get as much done as I had hoped to, but I was exhausted from mowing and my body hurt. A lot.<br />
<br />
But, I managed to get quite a bit of stuff done - nowhere near what I wanted, but every little bit helps at this point.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit3HmNZtz0bTp5d4X6CtgctyfMwUplZaac50l9iGCurmB26VaMgrToeNOovfSAxe987GZ34YGrM89qsrVyXcRCrJSlESj8GeTFE68Tfq5ZCweUxJWUofnMhIyyeLnEPYyBtxna68yQ2tE/s1600/unnamed+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit3HmNZtz0bTp5d4X6CtgctyfMwUplZaac50l9iGCurmB26VaMgrToeNOovfSAxe987GZ34YGrM89qsrVyXcRCrJSlESj8GeTFE68Tfq5ZCweUxJWUofnMhIyyeLnEPYyBtxna68yQ2tE/s320/unnamed+%25282%2529.jpg" width="180" /></a>Of course, things never go as smoothly as I want them to, and when my vacuum decided to give me attitude, I figured out that the one hose was split - which totally explains the lack of suction lately. I knew I could "fix" it, but then I couldn't find a screwdriver and then I couldn't find the duct tape and as I threw an internal temper tantrum (I was too tired by this point for a real one) I found them and I rigged up the vacuum so that it works. At least it worked enough for a few swipes across my bedroom carpet because I'm tired and I'm not vacuuming everything that needs to be done right now even though I really should.<br />
<br />
I had hoped that we were going to have a fairly quiet week this week, but since it's the last week before school starts, I know that's not going to happen. I just found out about 10 minutes ago that Alex has to have a football physical sometime in the next 2 days in order to play (oops), and that's on top of the girls both needing physicals within the week, along with trying to get school shopping done and deal with real life at the same time while also trying to recover from a vacation that exhausted me both physically and emotionally.<br />
<br />
I'm really just not in the mood for all of this. I'm just not.<br />
<br />
I need a vacation.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-75517366636225386332015-08-07T22:09:00.000-05:002015-08-07T22:09:21.614-05:00Time marches on....We got back from TMOART:15 this morning, and as I mentioned the other day <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2015/08/get-hit-or-run-for-cover.html" target="_blank">our vacation was not all fun and games</a>. Don't get me wrong - all in all we had a good time. But as with any trip, there is always stress and aggravation.<br />
<br />
One thing that we do every year is get a group picture of the kids. And it's not just any picture, but it's our traditional <i>Line Them Up In The Same Order On The Lion Statue</i> picture. We leave from my parents' house and head up to State College for the day, run around, take the picture, eat lunch, and then head back. It's a fun family ritual and the kids actually look forward to it, despite the looks on their faces in half of the pictures.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkezDUBhyphenhyphen65nAHRYBZPiu6UMrRZul-9v_Qr-MjM_hu_i4nYlWB9XfiCR9TS8Cp0Er0_4MphMIIzYwduTl0F1ksMqkr5oRVZzW0M-6oGGHL6Az2XE3dpxjQevB_WpjiNeFELiRUOXOBCo/s1600/2009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpkezDUBhyphenhyphen65nAHRYBZPiu6UMrRZul-9v_Qr-MjM_hu_i4nYlWB9XfiCR9TS8Cp0Er0_4MphMIIzYwduTl0F1ksMqkr5oRVZzW0M-6oGGHL6Az2XE3dpxjQevB_WpjiNeFELiRUOXOBCo/s400/2009.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighMxtHiUCmUYFtT1z24kL6JRm7zAGO5ud8ui7KBDXAuiY7IK1o2uBEpOY0fxbosuaUGikgK4U1WhRCIUDoTedvb5ZByOkWfY-CJRA1Ljpnf01jnFdnQuY3nR3NdM1z6at-wj9XD1imsQ/s1600/2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEighMxtHiUCmUYFtT1z24kL6JRm7zAGO5ud8ui7KBDXAuiY7IK1o2uBEpOY0fxbosuaUGikgK4U1WhRCIUDoTedvb5ZByOkWfY-CJRA1Ljpnf01jnFdnQuY3nR3NdM1z6at-wj9XD1imsQ/s400/2011.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDX9SM3UtQ2TGkJ3vRS4Tg0ForZYbBml7aUVCPiSU76d-PUXLb_CkfvZ7sabl4T473aXBntGDwXn-AzUjSsuQBseM4V8hnnO0CZDu0o83RELADH0ioSoSCwXA7EODN00HOtl9moVRRU8Q/s1600/2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDX9SM3UtQ2TGkJ3vRS4Tg0ForZYbBml7aUVCPiSU76d-PUXLb_CkfvZ7sabl4T473aXBntGDwXn-AzUjSsuQBseM4V8hnnO0CZDu0o83RELADH0ioSoSCwXA7EODN00HOtl9moVRRU8Q/s400/2012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAamTXUvfTFriE64Q0cNuN-bK3SnwnQJ1mGmcc-mXHUjWIrUFvCzyLU1ozOqVeV6HOZ0M1pMybE0OLvolVwrOEXopa6GCsspjRQ4aLB6bON2loWPiwwPrrDmAq3QTpayK7LtwFVD_mytA/s1600/2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAamTXUvfTFriE64Q0cNuN-bK3SnwnQJ1mGmcc-mXHUjWIrUFvCzyLU1ozOqVeV6HOZ0M1pMybE0OLvolVwrOEXopa6GCsspjRQ4aLB6bON2loWPiwwPrrDmAq3QTpayK7LtwFVD_mytA/s400/2014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLWTGxt7Bbbuxc7pNql2_C78HZxYXxTZePrVrEFIjYiBPKeabHKusim0nKyJZcKgV8kcOVGvIXsyCUZngDkYB5zY9dxHVpVKmgSfS9j4bqZtv3l5UZ9akarjXYdSr7foLbxgAwGbg06w/s1600/2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeLWTGxt7Bbbuxc7pNql2_C78HZxYXxTZePrVrEFIjYiBPKeabHKusim0nKyJZcKgV8kcOVGvIXsyCUZngDkYB5zY9dxHVpVKmgSfS9j4bqZtv3l5UZ9akarjXYdSr7foLbxgAwGbg06w/s400/2015.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's crazy to see how much they've changed - I mean, I know that they're growing up, but this just reinforces it so much more. The kids were joking around about "what are you going to do when we're away at college or all grown up and we don't go on vacation with you anymore?" I told them that they still have to go along <i>just because I'm the mom and I said so</i>. Honestly, I don't even want to think about that time, even though I know it's coming faster than I'd like to admit.<br />
<br />
For now, I'll just enjoy our silly little traditional picture every year.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-69954650700669217852015-08-05T16:06:00.000-05:002015-08-05T16:06:44.199-05:00Get Hit or Run For Cover<i>I actually wrote this post on my notepad app on my phone at about 4am while we were staying at my parents' house, but because of the lack of WiFi, I wasn't able to post it until now. I debated not posting it at all because it's so hard to deal with, but maybe if I had read something like this before our visit, I would have been more prepared for the experience.</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~</div>
<br />
No one prepared me for what it would be like to deal with someone affected by dementia. I never expected such a drastic decline to happen in the span of a year.<br />
<br />
The fairly regular phone calls gave me a false sense of security. I knew that mornings were clearer for her, so I made sure to call first thing, before the stress of the day could get to her. She was clear, lucid, sometimes even joking. She was the mother that I remembered.<br />
<br />
But then we got to their house. Dad had recently been hospitalized so we busted butt to get there earlier to help before the family reunion. They didn't want our help, so we tried to make it a pleasant visit.<br />
<br />
I told Mom earlier that day that the upstairs shower had leaked into the downstairs bathroom and she blew it off like it was no big deal. Then Alex got a shower and the same thing happened. We were all sitting out on the porch enjoying the cool evening air when she exploded out of the kitchen door, pointing her finger at him, screaming that he was never to take a shower unsupervised again because he made such a horrible mess downstairs. Alex sat there, stunned and confused, trying to wrap his 9-year old brain around what just happened. She continued on for what seemed like hours, with me trying to tell her "Mom, it was an accident. He didn't know. Mom, he's 9." Finally she stopped and went back inside while Alex collapsed into my arms, crying. I told him again "honey, we've talked about this. Grandma's brain doesn't work right anymore, and as much as you don't understand what just happened, neither does she." We talked about it and he wiped the tears and said he was OK, but the damage was done.<br />
<br />
A little while later, after the kids went to bed, she came back outside. She started in again about how terrible he was for making such a mess. I pointed out to her that I had told her that the same thing had happened earlier and she just got angry. She started lobbing insults at me, slowly at first. But then they came faster and faster, like she was a major league pitching machine fully loaded with baseballs aimed straight at me - and my only options were to get hit or run for cover. She ripped me for not watching the kids closely enough (I'm not a helicopter parent and she never was either), for stealing a nap on the porch swing (never mind the 20+ hour drive to get to their house the day before), for having such horrible children, for "poking at that thing all day" (her version of me texting with other family members in preparation for the family reunion), and on and on it went. We got into a full blown screaming match that resulted in me running inside to our room and sobbing uncontrollably for over an hour.<br />
<br />
It wasn't just the insults. Trust me, they hurt like hell and cut me to my core. To see her inflict so much emotional pain on Alex ripped me to shreds even more. Having my girls come into our room to comfort me and hold me and reassure me that I'm NOT a terrible mother reinforced to me that she was wrong, but shouldn't have even had to happen.<br />
<br />
She still has good moments - sometimes hours or days even. But the bad moments creep up, seemingly with no warning. Maybe it's because I'm not around enough to see it regularly, but living 1100 miles away makes regular visits difficult. Maybe I've been shielding myself from it, intentionally or not. Maybe their refusal to get (or admit to?) an official diagnosis has given me a false sense of hope that it isn't really happening.<br />
<br />
I had been told that this was happening. Some of my brothers and sisters see her more often and they warned me. I know from my own research, from my past experiences as a case manager, and even from friends who have experienced this same journey that these things happen.<br />
<br />
But I wasn't prepared.<br />
<br />
That's not something that I say very often. I do my best to be ready for anything. I make my lists and check things off and review every possible scenario to make sure that I am prepared for anything. I knew that she might be overwhelmed with all 7 of us being in her space and disrupting her routine, so we planned various outings to give them a break from our chaos. But it wasn't enough.<br />
<br />
I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like to live in her brain every day. The constant confusion must be overwhelming. But the confusion that those around her experience at the same time can seem almost catastrophic because we can only watch the decline, helpless to change it. All we can do is get hit or run for cover.<br />
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<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-7904502438036731372015-07-25T01:51:00.000-05:002015-07-25T01:51:49.972-05:00Observations from the day....Today has been insane-crazy. I'm pretty sure that we reached a whole new level of crazy over the past 24 hours, and it's only going to get worse.<br />
<br />
It started with a phone call from my mother to let me know that my father had to be admitted to the hospital after what was supposed to be an outpatient procedure this morning. It's nothing <i>serious</i> serious, but he's 88 years old so there are always risks. They only expect to keep him overnight, but I've learned to brace myself for more bad news when things like this happen. Of course Mom is getting stressed out because we're having our big family reunion next weekend - I told her not to worry and that we'd try to get on the road earlier than planned so that we can get there Monday instead of Tuesday.<br />
<br />
Of course, since we had originally planned to leave Monday evening and we now want to try to leave Sunday morning, we've basically lost 2 days of prep time. We haven't started packing anything yet, laundry isn't done, we don't have food to take on the road, and we are just totally not ready.<br />
<br />
Along with all of that, there's approximately eleventy bajillion things to do around the house before we can walk out the door and leave it for almost 2 full weeks. The garden still needs to be weeded, the grass needs to be mowed, there's a huge pile of tree limbs that really need to go away to prevent rodents from taking up residency before we get back, the house needs to be cleaned, mouse traps need to be set now that those little a-holes have decided that they like my pantry, I need to get the house key to the neighbors, and so many other things that I haven't even thought about yet.<br />
<br />
And here I thought that I was being so efficient by getting the oil changed in the van the other day. "Woohoo, look at me go, getting it done ahead of time." Ha.<br />
<br />
Of course while this is all going on, we have a major opportunity for recruitment for Scouts tomorrow and I've been running around all week getting stuff ready for that, including taking about 3 hours to get set up for it this evening (not to mention making some really generic derby cars for people to play with at the event) so that I can maybe sleep a little bit later tomorrow - but basically my whole day tomorrow is shot too.<br />
<br />
I have no idea how we're going to get all of this done. None.<br />
<br />
But I just keep reminding myself that it <b>will</b> get done. I might lose my mind in the process, but it will get done.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13-2Oh-RQX8KcHJi3tX59MJ4tE0tKhndnSD-7etJK_HU1AlwkOD2gE3w9a43eqyC5DSyUDcfAsUGbYPjjQVMYFF9yTbfU5S99yGrcDah8j8cWMSBL4fiYFb-Jal5wWdzvwwSb_zUaTUA/s1600/unnamed+%252810%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13-2Oh-RQX8KcHJi3tX59MJ4tE0tKhndnSD-7etJK_HU1AlwkOD2gE3w9a43eqyC5DSyUDcfAsUGbYPjjQVMYFF9yTbfU5S99yGrcDah8j8cWMSBL4fiYFb-Jal5wWdzvwwSb_zUaTUA/s400/unnamed+%252810%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why is it that there is one wheel missing every time I buy more<br />than one derby car? </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJdv8XQvQU7DQP2kB2QM0aXpKZx0UFdex0X2KSt5nj0Jycu1aCWt1OtcKVOCXGfeTuHa1F7UbI4AJBwR9BrfN8gHiDowKToKCvQjjVXL_lqIr7LsPuDIv9-rzu-nMsyrs4lGVe1J15Is/s1600/unnamed+%252814%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJdv8XQvQU7DQP2kB2QM0aXpKZx0UFdex0X2KSt5nj0Jycu1aCWt1OtcKVOCXGfeTuHa1F7UbI4AJBwR9BrfN8gHiDowKToKCvQjjVXL_lqIr7LsPuDIv9-rzu-nMsyrs4lGVe1J15Is/s400/unnamed+%252814%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting to weed the garden as the sun goes down was an amazing<br /> moment of peace in a day of chaos and stress.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2THTLvlm2gfQUjKnWgvIXoGZo3ap-yeSxTsEI47vrpspFqs6QNRjZ0bvv0fKKs2Ul0wxfnlmyQLUO7kDxDlfULXRKglHcz2ORv2FrgaJYlOiRFCLhzRcrVylRi1MZUsXx9MjLSae8Htw/s1600/unnamed+%252812%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2THTLvlm2gfQUjKnWgvIXoGZo3ap-yeSxTsEI47vrpspFqs6QNRjZ0bvv0fKKs2Ul0wxfnlmyQLUO7kDxDlfULXRKglHcz2ORv2FrgaJYlOiRFCLhzRcrVylRi1MZUsXx9MjLSae8Htw/s400/unnamed+%252812%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By about 9:15pm it was too dark to see what I was doing,<br />but at least I got everything watered and started weeding.<br />And it was still 99 degrees outside.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EZ9WyF9IAnGi2IhLqUmfe87h7B4P5dbFQkUZFMruKyLAG6tXDEumziIG7I9wz2tVOqtQAfKE5zaJY30F564KoRq1Nxm9qpzJmoeQ8sDVjj5qAPCN1c00Fd5YCfAYtRqcugWtdq7BUgs/s1600/unnamed+%252811%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EZ9WyF9IAnGi2IhLqUmfe87h7B4P5dbFQkUZFMruKyLAG6tXDEumziIG7I9wz2tVOqtQAfKE5zaJY30F564KoRq1Nxm9qpzJmoeQ8sDVjj5qAPCN1c00Fd5YCfAYtRqcugWtdq7BUgs/s400/unnamed+%252811%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bats come out around 9pm. And it's really hard to<br />catch a picture of them with a cell phone.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyHL_paCH6n3Nv6aVQL4FC0A9Ch_q1MYsw8zc50eQYpWgwrNfLPmleWRJVTCiCJG0kF7FKY8Wgv-sRi6_j8BiUGbdNtkLmH-hfP0Fsg6Yjiy7aMtgutff_TTjtVWYzM5nPFXWaJmvc2U/s1600/unnamed+%252813%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyHL_paCH6n3Nv6aVQL4FC0A9Ch_q1MYsw8zc50eQYpWgwrNfLPmleWRJVTCiCJG0kF7FKY8Wgv-sRi6_j8BiUGbdNtkLmH-hfP0Fsg6Yjiy7aMtgutff_TTjtVWYzM5nPFXWaJmvc2U/s400/unnamed+%252813%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If it was a full moon, I might have had enough light<br />to keep weeding.</td></tr>
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<br />Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-23403039653796494042015-07-21T22:41:00.001-05:002015-07-21T22:41:05.508-05:00Checking things off....Today was a crazy busy day.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2L9DJqPKilVX1zQwW2wQtJsIfGkcI_RISFtJxfCTFRxjw9rBgnwPYQcT4T9HpMYP_6HOiOccKVhFwsKOwoZ7jvkpnZ_0ZXyHwj8DwdBMy-OT2E9IzlitlECgMowcTD8bKHCg7mAV4d4/s1600/unnamed+%25289%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2L9DJqPKilVX1zQwW2wQtJsIfGkcI_RISFtJxfCTFRxjw9rBgnwPYQcT4T9HpMYP_6HOiOccKVhFwsKOwoZ7jvkpnZ_0ZXyHwj8DwdBMy-OT2E9IzlitlECgMowcTD8bKHCg7mAV4d4/s200/unnamed+%25289%2529.jpg" width="112" /></a>I managed to get the entire front flowerbed weeded, which was more of a challenge than I had thought it was going to be - but it's done and shouldn't be completely overrun with weeds before we get back from vacation.<br />
<br />
Hopefully at some point there will be more flowers in there than dirt, but until everything that I planted establishes itself, it's going to continue to look relatively pathetic.<br />
<br />
After I got done with that and got a shower, I took Alex and Daniel into town for their very first official eye exams. I figured that since the older three kids now all wear glasses, I might as well get these guys checked out too.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Luckily, we escaped from that appointment without any new glasses - which actually disappointed the boys. I, however, did a happy dance on the way out the door.<br />
<br />
We then ran a ton of errands - stopped at a paint store to pick up some paint chips for a friend, ran to the library to make a whole ton of copies of stuff for Scouts for a big recruitment thing this weekend, got the oil changed in the van, grabbed some (late) lunch, picked up a few things at the store, got gas, stopped and got a new air filter for the van, and then came home to keep working on <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2015/07/lemonade.html" target="_blank">clearing the fabric pile out of the garage</a>.<br />
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Oh. The air filter.<br />
<br />
The oil change place wanted $35 to put a new air filter in the van. I might have laughed at the poor kid who was working there when he told me the price. So I bought one (granted, it's still a stupid expensive filter) and changed it myself when we got home.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, The Dude went to get the Scout trailer to bring it over here and stash it in my garage as we had planned. I was still out there going through the fabric and suddenly a thought came to me - I walked to the open garage door and reached up and touched the top of the opening with my hand without even stretching (and I'm short). I pulled up the pictures of the trailer on my phone and tried to judge the height of it.<br />
<br />
My fear was right.<br />
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So now, the garage is cleaned out for a trailer that's sitting in my driveway. Because that's my luck. But the latch has been repaired and it's here and safe for the time being, and I'll work on going through all of the stuff over the next few days and get that all sorted out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW94vgJ1PyPhwn6hDBu49ERlmmrURdS3ClORoTvxTxdPHHIQZmw84Qk8MJ9chPpYctsV8hvXyNmmQuZTgUORYGe6W_pQV4bRAbILE_ctaiMwhGr5u042OxiaFX49T6ODxB09zG0f3ro1E/s1600/unnamed.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW94vgJ1PyPhwn6hDBu49ERlmmrURdS3ClORoTvxTxdPHHIQZmw84Qk8MJ9chPpYctsV8hvXyNmmQuZTgUORYGe6W_pQV4bRAbILE_ctaiMwhGr5u042OxiaFX49T6ODxB09zG0f3ro1E/s320/unnamed.png" width="180" /></a>But.....other than balancing the checkbooks and washing the rest of the fabric (those are at the bottom of the list) I've gotten everything done that I set out to do today.<br />
<br />
That means one thing - time to make tomorrow's list.<br />
<br />
I'm so ready for vacation.....3000 miles in a vehicle with 5 kids will be a cake walk after this week.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-74487090969472976852015-07-19T21:50:00.001-05:002015-07-19T21:50:19.922-05:00LemonadeSometimes, a day starts out on a really crappy note.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOC4qkpxYX2XDaxrTZHNvA4SW2kaqQHqkTKlmAfYpq0FHdiBypQrxDyEo5DELXEPptq5itN2sRJbMkuIa7GjeUtR0HbcLcOjqyN1GARUoJ_thBDGoEouw_QBVKxsH2hH0vJGQuPDcl4M/s1600/trailer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOC4qkpxYX2XDaxrTZHNvA4SW2kaqQHqkTKlmAfYpq0FHdiBypQrxDyEo5DELXEPptq5itN2sRJbMkuIa7GjeUtR0HbcLcOjqyN1GARUoJ_thBDGoEouw_QBVKxsH2hH0vJGQuPDcl4M/s320/trailer.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
You know, like finding out that the trailer that contains a huge amount of your Scouts' camping equipment has been broken into.<br />
<br />
I got that message first thing this morning, so Daniel and I took off into town to deal with that. I crawled around inside the trailer and was relieved to find that nothing obvious was missing, but the latch itself was destroyed. I made the police report (not that I expect anything to come of it) and then one of the Scout dads and I ran all over town trying to find a new latch.<br />
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We couldn't find one, so we secured it as well as we could in order to form a plan, which will ultimately involve towing the trailer over here to put it in my garage so that I can go through it, clean it out, and inventory everything that is in there - a job that I've been meaning to do for months. And one of the Scout grandpas thinks that he can weld the latch to repair it for free - a huge bonus for our little pack of boys.<br />
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Of course, in order to get it over here to inventory the contents, there has to be room in my garage - which would not normally be a problem.<br />
<br />
However......<br />
<br />
A month or so ago (maybe more) a friend of mine found out that a friend of hers was cleaning out a "hoarder house" - it was a house that was apparently stuffed full of fabric and craft goodies (the owner had passed away), and the person who was cleaning it out didn't want to throw all of the fabric in a dumpster. So I went over and spent a few hours going through floor-to-ceiling piles of fabric, batting, sewing supplies, partially completed quilt tops, spools of thread, and so much crap that it was unreal. I piled as much as I could into the van and brought it home.<br />
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However, it all stunk. It had that nasty musty stale animal old lady smell to it, so I piled it all in the garage until I could figure out what to do with it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_CzRceS8czaSYXEUTnVLvpneDe7ApeldissoriLXx-nBJmrjLFCkdOEe_xWi1F-O1f0VMQSU6LS4IE2cX_sLuR72clDcFYRK8D5PcpmKfwGFWcnuUAyn7WnwIyjZB2eFN6pGChQtK48/s1600/unnamed+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf_CzRceS8czaSYXEUTnVLvpneDe7ApeldissoriLXx-nBJmrjLFCkdOEe_xWi1F-O1f0VMQSU6LS4IE2cX_sLuR72clDcFYRK8D5PcpmKfwGFWcnuUAyn7WnwIyjZB2eFN6pGChQtK48/s320/unnamed+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a>I had hoped that just leaving it in the garage would kill the smell, but it didn't. I started to worry that I wouldn't be able to get rid of the smell and I'd just have to toss the stuff after all.<br />
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With the latest development of the Scout trailer being moved in sometime in the next few days, I knew that I had to do something with the pile today, so I started going through it. I unrolled all of the batting and hung it out on the clothesline to air out, and I took the first pile of fabric and quilt squares and quilt tops and tossed them into the washer with lots of detergent, and hoped for the best.<br />
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When the first load was done and I opened the washer, I was greeted with no smell at all. Not willing to risk the odor coming back in the dryer, I hung it all out of the line to dry. Some of the tops started to pull apart, and some of the fabric basically disintegrated, but I think there is quite a bit that is salvageable with a lot of patience and a little bit of luck.<br />
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Some of it is remarkably hideous. Some of it is gorgeous. Some is hand stitched, some is done by machine. Most of it is polyester (ick) but some of it is cotton. There is absolutely no way to tell how old any of it is.<br />
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Now that I'm getting a chance to actually look at some of the stuff, I think I'm going to do what I can to finish as much of it as possible into quilts - some are going to be small lap-sized ones, some a little bigger, and some might actually be twin or full-sized by the time that they're done. And when they're done, they're going to be donated somewhere. I've seen a couple of programs over the years where foster care agencies look for quilts and blankets for kids that are in state custody, so that's where I'm going to start.<br />
<br />
Busted up trailer. Dirty hoarder fabric. Cluttered garage.<br />
<br />
<b>Lemons.</b><br />
<br />
Motivation to clean, organize, and inventory the trailer along with getting it fixed (hopefully) for free. Fabric that is coming clean with not much effort. Cleaner garage. Being able to take stuff that I have to turn into donations for someone who needs it.<br />
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<b>Lemonade.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><i>Perspective. </i></b>Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-73271368977870336252015-07-19T01:00:00.000-05:002015-07-19T01:00:26.529-05:00ONE-nessThe last 2 days have been crazy busy with Scouts and day camp. The weather has been disgustingly hot and gross, and I've run non-stop with Alex and Daniel while the older 3 kids were at their father's house. I'm glad that we were busy though, because it was distracting me from the reality that Alex was going to spend tonight with his father.<br />
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Normally, that wouldn't be such a big deal, but since it's been <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2015/05/separating-anger.html" target="_blank">close to a year and a half</a> since that's happened, I've gotten used to him being around all of the time. But we've been working toward him being able to do this - and it was time.<br />
<br />
I've been dreading it and looking forward to it at the same time. Dreading it because I know deep down in my heart that his father will most likely disappear again. I hope he doesn't, but I'm a realist. Alex has been dancing around all week waiting for their time together, and it ripped my heart to shreds to see his excitement - but I couldn't squash it.<br />
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At the same time, I looked forward to it purely for selfish reasons. I looked forward to a bit of a break with only having one kid running around the house. No arguing. No bickering. I knew that he would come home after camp, play with his Legos for a while, watch a movie, and fall asleep - because when there's no one around to annoy him, that's what he does.<br />
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After we got home from camp, we took a nap (at least I did) and then we decided to have Mommy-Daniel Date Night. However, we were both tired so we kept it pretty low-key.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKwHk32fEqXCoRA7BcVZINT6wvHsVzyYCPxAdbulClVlo8PY6_PTBo41PW3tkkvTJ5gO-Tyie0XJAuf4X4wcYvGKg7v86bCVSk1dn1TteM3FFaB1WYR8ruPybwobp104agiMzoT2WXCQ/s1600/daniel2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKwHk32fEqXCoRA7BcVZINT6wvHsVzyYCPxAdbulClVlo8PY6_PTBo41PW3tkkvTJ5gO-Tyie0XJAuf4X4wcYvGKg7v86bCVSk1dn1TteM3FFaB1WYR8ruPybwobp104agiMzoT2WXCQ/s400/daniel2.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out to eat, but more interested in the<br />storm clouds outside.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj77_s1CPdDvoQxn2GGzvWu_RmLodfEfQIpoEeUVZKXALcr1fuxE4LVdOKB8JjDBGJ97IUERH_B-Sbw1b-KZadqUFfOib2DFmSTeciCL-OdhJOw5RgJ3uFDm7MnejtefeT4OsTZ3AV6DCw/s1600/daniel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj77_s1CPdDvoQxn2GGzvWu_RmLodfEfQIpoEeUVZKXALcr1fuxE4LVdOKB8JjDBGJ97IUERH_B-Sbw1b-KZadqUFfOib2DFmSTeciCL-OdhJOw5RgJ3uFDm7MnejtefeT4OsTZ3AV6DCw/s400/daniel.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told him he could pick *a* snack<br />at the convenience store.</td></tr>
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We came home, ate our junk food, watched a movie, and he's currently snoring on the loveseat - just as I predicted. I'll toss him into his bed here in a few minutes and go to bed myself, and then we'll try to find something fun and exciting (or quiet and laid back) to do with just the two of us tomorrow.<br />
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Honestly, I hope I can convince him to go fishing with me. But he generally thinks that fishing is "boring".....<br />
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All I know is that it will be fairly peaceful and quiet. He and I get some quality time together while the other kids are gone, and we can just relax and chill together - something that I can definitely use before the chaos of The Last Week Before Vacation.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758570882310139920.post-47133988547309794092015-07-17T23:46:00.000-05:002015-07-17T23:46:09.696-05:00More road trip planningIt's that time of the year again.<br />
<br />
TMOART:15 is just around the corner.<br />
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If you haven't been around for very long, that stands for The Mother of All Road Trips: 2015 Edition. It's our annual (for the most part) road trip from here in Kansas to my parents' house in Pennsylvania, usually with a few (or a lot of) other stops thrown into the mix.<br />
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This year, we're keeping it simple. Renting the short bus last year cost us a small fortune, so we're taking my van this time - which means that luggage has to be kept to a minimum. Side trips are going to be eliminated due to finances and time and overcrowded seating arrangements. But we're still doing it. We're going to spend more time with my parents (including a reunion of all of my siblings, something which hasn't happened in a lot of years), more time relaxing and less time running around like idiots trying to see everything and do everything and run run run run constantly.<br />
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Of course, along with planning the actual itinerary comes planning for all of the crap that has to be done before we can even pull out of the driveway. There is a lot of stuff that we need to do first, things like an oil change in the van and weeding out the garden and flowerbeds and mowing the grass. And of course my constant obsession over the financial aspects of it, budgeting for gas and food and fun stuff and (please no) emergencies.<br />
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The lists are running rampant. On my phone. On scraps of paper. In my head. On my gigantic new-to-me white board calendar that I got in a thrift store in OKC earlier this week.<br />
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But the funny thing is that even now, as we get down to just over a week before we leave, I'm not spazzing out about it like I usually do. We've done these trips enough over the years that I know that no matter what, unexpected things are going to happen (remember <a href="http://non-stopmom.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-all-fun-and-games.html" target="_blank">The Great Flying Boulder Incident</a>?) and we'll just make the most of it and have as much fun as possible before the reality of another school year starts less than 2 weeks after we get back.<br />
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The kids are excited to go, I'm more than excited to get away from reality for a while, my parents are looking forward to seeing the kids, and it'll be nice to have some real quality time with The Dude.<br />
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I'm so ready.Non-Stop Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11019977789459727121noreply@blogger.com0