Things I find when cleaning...THE VAN

Yeah, I have a mini-van! SO WHAT! I have lots of little people that I have to drive from one sporting event to the next. Unfortunately, my children aren't huge nerds and actually have FRIENDS, so I have to transport them as well! And If my husband can't come with us he pouts, so there's ANOTHER passenger! I don't allow the dog to "come along for the ride" any longer, damn thing gets car sick and drools and pukes all over the place! SO, minus the dog, let's just say that there is a lot of traffic in and out, and out and in, of my van. Despite my best efforts to NOT allow food and drink and STINK in my van, oh let's be honest! Kid's eat, drink, AND definitely stink EVERYWHERE

DON'T GET IT TWISTED THOUGH! I drive that Mom Mobile like it's a two-seater! And the BASS booms just as loud in a min-van as it does in any other vehicle! Even though my son did tell me once that "It doesn't matter what kind of music you listen to, it's STILL a mini-van MOM" (BRAT)

It was much simpler when they were younger. Some mashed cheerios, coloring paraphernalia, and the occasional drained sippy cup was really the extent of the mess. There WAS the occasional round of kid puke to clean up, but that wasn't the norm. Them being older has crushed one more "clean dream" of mine. Let's really be honest, those dreams became less of a reality with each "push", IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! I sometimes feel like I'm driving around in something the health department should close down. Maybe I should call them!? Sorry kids, this taxi service is out of business!
Let's run down some of the goodies I find shall we?
I might have exaggerated a touch in "Things I find when cleaning". I said that in the couch cushions I find "all the hair ties we've ever owned". OK, I'm SORRY I lied, I find half of  the hair ties in the couch cushions AND the other half in the VAN. Here's the deal kiddos, make up your mind in the morning weather you want an up-do or not! Wearing 50 hair ties on your wrist isn't cool anymore! It's not the 80's and YOU'RE NOT MADONNA! I think they just wear them as ammo so when one of the other lovelies annoys them they can shoot the others eye out with the ties! Hey MOM, can we stop by the hospital because my retina seems to be detached!?
Cleats were a most horrible invention. I don't care if you NEED them for ball. Slide around the field, bust a knee-cap, bloody a lip, ALL THAT SHIT CAN BE CLEANED UP BEFORE YOU GET IN THE VAN! Cleats collect everything! And by everything I mean EVERYTHING. Baseball/Softball dirt (NO, I DON'T actually know what it's called) is a really pretty color right? Grass and mud from the outfield stick to those cleats until the MINUTE they step inside of my vehicle. The one piece of dog crap they managed to find usually holds on till they get in the house, of course! Although it does manage to grind into the carpet just enough to make the whole van smell like POOP.
I drove around for an entire summer with a nut cup on my dashboard. No joke. The boy would grab it for the game, and throw it back up there when finished...let that sink in for a bit. Gross yes, but it became a source of entertainment for me. How many people can we get to do a DOUBLE TAKE when walking on by!? Is that a...YES sweetheart it is.
Apparently my kids can't eat without spilling food, oh I don't know, EVERYWHERE! This ain't Hansel and Gretel folks, MAKE IT INTO YOUR MOUTH! Fruits snacks actually melt into the carpet, really cool. And a Goldfish cracker breaks up into infinite pieces. A red icee melts through the cup eventually and fills up the cup holder with sugary goodness Red stains, but not quite as bad as blue. French fries can get stuck into a seat belt mechanism, it makes it hard to be SAFE.  Sorry Grandpa, you sat on an M&M for the entire ride and now it's melted. People LOVE walking around looking like they have shit stains on their pants...right!?
You have been warned to NOT touch the sides of the seats in the back. It's a perfect spot for kids to wipe their boogers. Don't act like yours don't do it!
I helped my sister move some weeks ago. I had to put all the seats down so I could fit much stuff in. (Stow and Go is the best thing ever) I almost barfed, like literally. I had enough crap floating around to make a life size, dirt ~ food ~ mystery matter ~ PERSON! I could have won an award! It's GARBAGE MAN! Don't get too close you might catch something! Got one of those black lights? I'm sure the whole thing would GLOW.
The fingerprints on the windows must make people on the outside think that I lock them in there for extended periods of time. MOM! LET US OUT! WE WILL BE GOOD! WE PROMISE!
Do you know how many times I have gotten a call at work with some kid pissed at me because something they need for school is in my van. I'm sorry children, I thought we were all old enough to take important stuff out of an area that WON'T BE THERE IN THE MORNING! I wonder what they tell their teachers? I'm sure it involves me being an ass and MAKING them leave their backpack, gym uniform, AND their brain in my van. It's a conspiracy, I'm actually here to make THEIR lives hell...not the other way around.
Someday I'll look back and laugh at all this. You know, when I'm in my nice padded cell, far away from the pig pen cloud that is my life.

DON'T TELL ME TO RELAX

             WHY DON'T YOU JUST RELAX!(Is dangerous to your health)

TELLING someone to do something is just silly in the first place! You can hint, you can give your opinion, HELL you can even SUGGEST! But ,TELLING someone to DO anything will not only make the person on the receiving end want to continue their behavior, but it will also put you at risk for a chop to the throat. EXAMPLES: Stop doing that ~ How about you choke on your own spit.
Don't talk like that ~ Talk, talk, fuck, talk, talk, shit, talk, talk, your MOM. Stop dressing like that ~ I'm going to wear everything I own and camp out in your front yard dancing and singing the Macarena while screaming your name. The list is endless, and I could go on and on...and on, but this post would get extremely long and I would lose your attention. SO, I will stop with the examples as I think you catch my drift. BUT, THE WORST, in my opinion, is five normal words put together that make up the most infuriating question EVER!

                 WHY DON'T YOU JUST RELAX!?

Because any person who ISN'T relaxed is thinking rational. And a irrational person rarely reacts to criticism positively. Hell, a relaxed person doesn't respond to criticism positively.  Telling someone to relax is telling them 1. You have no regard for what they are feeling, at all. 2. You think their pretty stupid. 3. You clearly are better.  And 4. You really want to get repeatedly hit with a baseball bat.
What does one who asks  that ridiculous question hope to accomplish? Is the upset person going to stop their frustration and succumb to relaxation?  I think not! After they calm down, one might think that maybe not getting so upset would have helped them. But in the heat of something it's hard to see anything but red.
And how egotistical is the person that makes that statement? EXORBITANTLY! Who died and made you King or Queen of the CHILL OUT police! And what about when you get upset!? Would you like me to take what you are feeling and condescendingly tell you to stuff it!? NOPE.
It's not just the actual words that get me. Sometimes you can not get the words, but you get "the look". And the look usually says, "oh sweetie, you're so fucking dumb. Look at you getting all riled up. Poor thing." That makes good use of my self control, let me tell ya. A lot of times you will get both the words AND the look. This usually sends me into a frantic rant involving wild arm waving and curse words that don't even go together. Catch me on a GOOD day and I might even throw a few things around. My FAVORITE though is the TRIPLE threat! This includes ~ THE LOOK, the question, WHY DON'T YOU JUST RELAX, AND...the dismissive wave of the hand. HEY JERK! Wave your hand at me and I'll cram it so far down your throat you'll be tickling your BOOTY! If you let me get it all out of my system, chances are, I will feel pretty bogus about getting all riled up all on my own. But telling me to relax will make the original problem take on a life all of it's own. And I will throw your ass right in the middle of it. I will get defensive, and defensiveness solves NADA. It also makes me feel stupid. Guess what!? I DON'T NEED ANY HELP FEELING STUPID! It also makes me want to do serious bodily harm. And I really don't want to go to jail. I like to be in control of my situation too much. And even though I can appreciate a good looking woman, I don't want to end up with Bertha as my partner for life! SO DON'T TEST ME!
 Whether or not it's me or someone else being told to relax, IT'S JUST NOT NICE! So be nice, it's good for your health!

*This whole damn thing is dedicated to my SISTER!*

SOME THINGS I BELIEVE

              "The journey to Selfhood is a life long trek"
                                                          Nancy Dreyfus, Psy.D.

I KNOW, I KNOW! I can get all ranty! (it's a word cause I SAID) I know that I bitch and moan. (a lot) And, I definitely know that I try to put a funny spin on things. (by funny I mean inappropriate)
But I honestly believe that being "GOOD" people doesn't mean you have to be boring! I also think we need to get real with ourselves and our definition of good.

I LOVE my soapbox! I love a good rant! And I LOVE to throw my opinions out there. But, they are just that...mine. At the end of the day, I don't care if you agree with me. And if you have a different view, let's talk! Maybe I will walk away thinking you're crazy!  But, I may get a different perspective, and decide that my views have changed a little. Either way it doesn't matter. We all have our own journey. We have to do it OUR way. We just don't have to beat other's up for doing it theirs. My eight year said to me once that "the great thing about people is that we are all different". RIGHT ON girlie!

I have this continuous battle inside me. I want to be so above it all. (by all I mean the bullshit) But, guess what?? We are ALL emotional beings. Telling someone to "get over it" is a crock of crap. Maybe that's the problem with us all? We need to FEEL things and not be told they are wrong. We are above some things, but others are going to get us every time. And my "THING" will be different than yours. It doesn't make either one of us wrong. It makes us human. We will never truly be "above it all", because by doing that we rob ourselves of feeling. Good or bad, feelings are a HUGE part of who we are. EMBRACE them! Just don't get all postal on us!

When together, my sister and I play a game. It's called can you believe they are wearing that!? We keep it to ourselves, we don't yell out "HEY UGLY! Those shoes do NOT go with that! That would be completely bogus. There is a difference between talking ABOUT something/someone and running around being a GOSSIP FACE. People say, don't judge. Everybody judges, it's an unfortunate part of being human. But, again, there is a difference between me telling my sister that home girl has horrible pants on and doing something like this ~ HEY HOME GIRL! You have the ugliest pants on I have ever seen. YOU SHOULD (I hate the you should) NEVER, EVER wear those pants again! HEY EVERYBODY! Do you see home girls pants!? MAN, those are UGLY! Blah, blah, blah.   And with this rambling...my point is...that you are also not above your own set of bullshit.
By the way, I know people are talking about my attire. (Including my sister) I live in sweatpants and running clothes. I know I could use help from the fashion police.

How about this? How about you don't ever tell another living being what they should believe?  Society has "decided" who the freak shows are and what's the right way to live YOUR life, right? Because in order to be accepted and seen as good you have to be on the right side of that line drawn in the sand, right? I say FUCK THAT. In my opinion, it's not the fact that we have different beliefs that's the problem. It's the fact that we believe people CAN'T have a different belief system than us. If people aren't hurting other's, I don't see why we care. BELIEFS are something you will NEVER change in another person. (thoughts and views, maybe. But never beliefs) SO GET OVER IT!

In my last little outburst. (I know, I've been all over the place) I simply want to confess. I am frequently wrong. I do stupid stuff. I am controlling. (ask my husband) I find myself bitching too much (ask my husband) I can hurt people. I'm more comfortable with anger then sadness. I have a big mouth. (ask anyone who has EVER met me) And the list goes on and on.  So many times I react, often ridiculously, only to throw the situation around in my head until I come up with something different. That's why I am addicted to self-help books. I just want to do better, be better, act better. And sometimes I'll say fuck it. I'm totally in love with some of my "faults". Some of them are SUPER fun.  I am trying to teach my children this ~ Don't intentionally hurt people. Live life being YOU. Test boundaries and be inappropriate at times. Just know that you will have consequences that you must endure. And at the end of your life, if you have done more good than bad...you've won, and so has everyone else around you.

SO THERE! Here are some of the things I was thinking about while running today. Well, those things and cake...but I couldn't work the cake in there anywhere!

Things I find when cleaning

I am  completely obsessive about cleaning. I can clean a house better than your mom and grandma put together. If I didn't have children or furry things, you could eat off my damn floor. BUT life doesn't always turn out the way you planned now does it?

DIRT! Kids and animals carry actual pieces of dirt on just about every available part of their body. The other day I swear I had a fucking sandbox in my entry way. It's been snowing since last September! Do they have it stored somewhere so they can roll around in it like pigs in a pen!? GEEZ!
WRAPPERS of every shape, size, and color. Granola bars, cliff bars, candy bars, and gum wrappers. The random Capri-sun pouch, with the straw still sticking out of course. Just wait till that snow melts, It will be a one stop shop for all the ants in the neighborhood! The next time I find the sticky top to a yogurt cup I'm going to stick it to the culprits forehead for the rest of the day. Hell, I might just take a pic and post it, tag them in it, and make it my profile pic for the next MONTH!
Random pet food!? These little shits will damn near push you down the stairs to get you to an empty bowl quicker. How about you eat the shit off the floor first!? And since were talking about my little angels, I can make a fur coat out of all the hair I find. THANK YOU DYSON!
I could fill up an entire garbage bag with the stuff I find under the couch. (Shhh, don't you dare tell them that if I find it and paid under 25 bucks for it, I usually do) How does all that stuff make it under there in just a few days? Maybe Toy Story IS real.
Socks, or just one sock. I'm quite certain I have never seen any of my children walk around with just one sock on. It's like that one lost shoe...how does that happen? It CAN"T be comfortable!  A sock is much better then the occasional  pair of underwear. When ever I find this little gem of a surprise, I tell myself the dog must have dragged them out of some child's room. Because I can't fathom why anyone would need to take their grundies off in the living room!
Let's lift up the couch cushions shall we? 87 markers, all with the caps off. Some Uno cards and a DS game. OH LOOK! All the hair ties we have ever owned, EVER! No wonder I couldn't find any this morning. Did you use one hair tie for every strand!? And there is a library card, along with that overdue book. On top of all that, apparently my children shit Cheez-Its and M&Ms, wanna snack? 
I find enough empty water bottles that I'm sure mother nature would like to kick me in the crotch. And not one of them is empty. I have always thought I should just finish them off, but I'm sure about a quarter of that bottle is backwash...and...BARF. SO, I water my plants with them, they LOVE backwash!
Just once I would like to find some money, or maybe some jewelry. How about some strawberry shortcake. Or Ryan Gosling hiding behind the couch. OH, I GOT IT! Ryan Gosling, holding my piece of yummy strawberry shortcake...like ~ HEY GIRL, why don't you eat this delicious treat while I take off my shirt. SIGH, a girl can dream.
I must go gather my hair ties now and hide them from the children. I'm going to need them to pull my hair back while I go scrub the toilet. Wait...is that cat puke or a turd? UGH!

Why SONS are better than DAUGHTERS

                                              (Girls wouldn't look quite as cute doing this)

THEY DON'T HAVE A VAGINA!! Let's just put it out there like it is. I can barely handle my own vagina..isms, let alone THREE (you're calling me all kinds of crazy right now, huh?) other vagina's and all the wonderfulness that comes with it.
GIRL MESS sucks! Picking up baseball paraphernalia and dirty boxers is a breeze. Hair products of every shape, size, and colors litter the bathroom. Sucking up a bobby pin with the vacuum  is sure to bring on a slew of curse words that I'm sure my neighbors have only ever heard coming out of my house. Eyeliner shavings are really fucking cool, it's a close second to ground up eye shadow everywhere. HEY 19, do you remember that time you dyed the bathroom floor, I mean your hair? I still can't get that shit out! The clothes that get tried on and discarded in the dirty pile makes me do a pretty sweet "laundry room dance", it involves throwing AND slamming to compliment my swearing. (The son just needs to be covered. Not matching, not clean, just covered.)
DRAMA! Boys will get upset with a friend and they will go outside and play a game of basketball and try to outdo each other. They soon drop whatever their issue is because they are having too much damn fun. The girl drama is a constant reminder that YOUNG GIRLS ARE CRAZY! The texting, and the Facebook posts could be written into an episode of General Hospital. "She's a bitch mom" Just when I think I've figured out who "the bitch" is, I find out that she's the "new" best friend! I don't give a shit if Suzy looked at you wrong in class today. And no I will not call her mother to get your shirt back. (I never liked that shirt anyway) How about the boy drama? Really fun right? Locking themselves in their room, the sound of crying only slightly louder than the shitty love song that was "their song" stuck on repeat. THE WALLOWING has seen many packages of Oreos and ice cream in my house. (then you have to hear about how "fat" they are) Boys don't bat an eyelash when they hit single status. Deuces, on to the next one.
THEY DON'T BLEED! (See vagina babble above) Sons don't roll around on the couch, clutching themselves, screaming about CRAMPS. Hey sweetie talk to me about cramps AFTER you push something bigger than a cabbage patch kid out of your nether region. Guess what ladies!? You're not staying home one week out of every month!! And since females that live together have synced cycles, (thank you Aunt Flo) I have to muzzle my own PMS, so I don't beat the witch out of them. (CPS really frowns on that) Hey! The dog learned a new trick! It's called, drag every rolled up pad out of the trash and spread them around the house to test just how much mom loves me game. This game is not only NOT gross, but really safe for her...swear.
Pink and purple threw up all over the place and then made babies that are running rampant throughout these walls! Softball gloves don't NEED to be pink! Neither does YOUR DAMN HAIR! "8" sleeps inside of a Pepto  bottle every night...walls don't lie! Princess pastel is running this shit, can I get a primary!?
 12 (said son) is loyal. It doesn't matter how stupid, bitchy, or embarrassing I'm being. He's got me. Those girls frequently act like they don't know who the hell I am.Watch your back my pretties, I'm not above picking you up from school in hot rollers and slippers!
 Lastly. I don't have to brush the boy's hair. Nuff said!

SO, my recommendation is, if you MUST breed, sell your soul to whom ever you need to and pray for a son. Just teach them how to wash their boy parts!

The Exhale

EXHALE - To breathe out. To emit air or vapor. To blow something forth or breathe something out.

The inhales are easy, right? The frantic breathing in that actually drowns the lungs with so much oxygen, that you feel as if no air has hit them for minutes. The exhale is the hard part, because when you truly exhale you let go. And if you truly let go you become vulnerable.  PLEASE DON'T TOUCH ME OR GET INTO MY SPACE! This is the sound of hundreds of muscle fibers screaming in horror. That confined feeling when nothing is even close to touching you. Eyes close to steal a moment of calm only to be overwhelmed with the feeling of someone sneaking up on you. How you crave human touch but almost vomit at the thought of it. To lean into someone, to bury your face deep into someone's neck: it's almost unbearable, but so needed. The need to feel safe is just as strong as the need to flee. A very real tug of war is taking place inside your head, your stomach, and your heart. To feel "safe" becomes a double edged sword. And what is safe? Are we ever really? Is safe just a smoke screen so that one may come in and "get the goods"? No, It has to be real right? Safe is a real word, with real meaning. And if you could just exhale you could grab on to it. For exhaling is truly the greatest feeling.

WHY I HATE SNOW

First of all, it's cold. I LOATHE being cold. I don't want to be buried when I die because I fear I will be cold for the rest of eternity. (Plus the thought of bugs eating my face off kinda creeps me out) My son asked me yesterday if I could come back as an animal which one I would pick, my first reaction was a bird. Then I thought hell no, I live in Minnesota, It's cold here! My family doesn't share my hatred of the cold. " It's hot" is a gripe I frequently hear. Quit your damn whining kid, the heat is only up to 85. I'm quite certain that my husband would have NEVER said I do if he would have realized that a short car ride to Target would result in him sitting in ball soup because the heat is on full blast while outside temps are hanging out at 60.
Secondly, it's a damn mess! I have children and a dog...and a husband. Each one of those are a mess on their own. Throw them together and you have a catastrophe. Add the snow and it's like an episode of Hoarders, minus the dead animals and rodent feces. The jackets, and snow pants, unmatched mittens, scarfs, and hats are thrown all over the place. A smelly wet hat does wonders for the wood floor let me tell you. And a mitten underfoot can lead to a nasty spill.  I'm just guessing, it's never ACTUALLY happened to me. (clears throat) My entry way looks like one huge dirty laundry pile.
They come in from romping around, making snowmen, and finding that one patch of mud that never freezes; dripping, dirty and usually with a runny nose. Have you seen that Campbell's soup commercial with the kid whole comes in as a snowman? Guess what kids? See ya in June, because you're not melting in my kitchen!
Thirdly, unless you never have to drive anywhere, you're screwed. There is nothing like a 20 minute drive turned into an hour to start the day off right. You know you have all played that game of trying to grab the wiper so you can knock the ice off of it. Super safe huh? How about running out of wiper fluid and riding someones ass in hopes to get their spray? I say 6 months out of the year your risk of becoming Christopher Reeve is pretty high.
Children always say clever things like, the thunder is God bowling: or the rain is angels crying. Well, Ally Sheedy taught us the snow is actually dandruff. Mother nature needs a little head and shoulders. Or maybe it's Old Man Winter's dead skin flakes, he's a little dry because IT'S FRICKEN COLD OUT! Gross thought, no?
The weather man, who gets paid to GUESS, told us all to relax this morning. Apparently all this snow will be good for the soil. Tell you what, you keep the snow and I'll pee in the front yard everyday for the rest of my life!

P .S.
Dear husband,
I parked in your spot because I was stuck in the fucking alley for a good fifteen minutes trying to get into mine.

Kim K.

KIM KARDASHIAN

I have a COLOSSAL issue with magazine covers like these.

1. They're bull-shit. Lies, exaggerations, airbrushing, and photo shopping at it's best. (or worst)

2. I'm not sure why any of it is "news". Famous or not the rest of us sure wouldn't like our dirty laundry aired for the world to see.

3. They're just plain MEAN!

I see women (sorry ladies it's usually us) waiting in line, with their PJ pants and slippers on flipping through these magazines. And with crappy little looks on their faces, they shake their heads and suck on their teeth. Meanwhile your five year old just ran the cart into some poor guy who only came to get some laundry detergent: OK, he was actually getting maxi pads for his wife and trying to keep it on the down low but your son made a scene and exposed him to everyone in lanes 5-10. How about you wipe your kids nose before you worry about Kim Kardashian's fat ass!

Let's discuss the cover of this delightful rag mag, shall we? The little circle at the top of the page with Kim eating the ice cream was put on there for what reason? Do you know of ANYONE that eats an ice cream cone with out looking a little sloppy and, let's be honest, a little seductive? It looks a little sunny in that picture, ice cream melts the last time I checked, YOU HAVE TO EAT THAT SHIT FAST! And unless this woman is lactose intolerant I really see no problem with it."DEVASTATED KIM FINDS COMFORT IN FOOD" Man! That's the fist time I've heard of anyone using food as a way to feel better. Hiding candy and binging later? Hell I have a full drawer of hidden snacks. I've got kids, it's safer for them if they leave my stash alone! Maybe Kanye has a sweet tooth. A pregnant woman will mess you up you try and take her food! YES! She probably is fearful about never getting her body back, and if not she should be. Cause guess what sugar, extra weight or not. YOUR BODY WILL NEVER BE THE SAME. Not because of the candy bars and late night crave runs. You have a parasite taking all your "good juju", and that parasite will continue taking for 40 weeks! 40 weeks, and then for LIFE! And with every year they take a little more of your mind. So instead of poking fun at our cover of the month, we should be feeling sorry for her.

OK, indulge me for a minute. I can eat a whole 14oz bag of Swedish Fish in one sitting: does this make you better than me? NO! I'm a vegetarian: if you eat an entire hog every night for dinner, am I better than you? NO! It simply means that we could take my tooth decay (with a diabetes chaser) and your clogged arteries, find a chain smoker and an alcoholic and we could have one hell of a party! All joking aside, I've never understood why we would judge another person, based on anything, but especially in a setting where we really have no idea what's going on. Famous people are in fact people. Your neighbor is struggling through life just like you. Your boss has had problems in their past that affect decisions they make today. (must repeat to myself 100 times a day) And your children are watching you judge all of the people around them, all while you are pushing your problems aside and scolding them for acting just like you. Back off, have some compassion, and save your three bucks!

Lastly, in regards to the ice cream shot, Kudos Mr. West...KUDOS.

LOVE

Everyone is in love with love. We all love a love story, (even if we don't want to admit it) the chase, the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when two new lovers kiss for the first time. The ache you feel in your body as you watch that love unravel and evaporate before your eyes. I fucking love love, too bad it's not real. (Meaning I suck at it) Now, I don't mean all love. The love a mother has for their child is the truest most pure love out there. Nothing can touch it or even come close (obviously there are unfortunate exceptions to this rule) to the feeling a mother has for her young. Animals also receive this special kind of love, much in the way children do. So, for the most part, animals and children are the one's that get all the "real" love. We can love things, only to replace them when they get worn, tattered, and break down. We can love places, only to move when they cease to provide the best jobs or the scenery changes. We can love people, only to hurt them when they don't act as we wish they would. Yet we don't do these things to children or animals. When your dog eats your favorite slippers do you trade her in for a new one? When your son goes through his teenage years and rebels and pushes you away do you pack up and move one day while he is at school? Of course not. Now, I love my slippers, they provide comfort and warmth for me. Sometimes I wear them in the car on my way to work only to change into my "real" shoes minutes before walking in. If I came home and realized that my dog ruined them, chewed up the pink fluffy lining that comforts my feet unlike any other pair I have ever owned, I would be pretty pissed. I would most likely yell, teach the dog some new ways to use profanity, and storm away while her little ears hung low. Minutes later when she came up to me, head bowed, I would pet her and kiss her and apologize for scolding her. She didn't do it on purpose after all. Of course she knows better, but the fluffy lining was screaming at her and it was just too much to take. My oldest was a complete mess during her teenage years. I can say that 2011 was the worst year of my life. I cried most days and usually multiple times. And that's not to say that I don't get extremely frustrated with her, but I would never leave her side...ever. I understand that it's easier to forgive my child, I did however MAKE her, but the dog came from somewhere else. (swear) So why is it we can't show this same courtesy to our lovers? What takes us from " I love you with every fiber of my being" to " Everything this ass hole does makes me want to kill him"? Why can't we love the adults we come across in our lives as well as we do our young and furry friends? Why can't we understand and respect the fact that our husbands didn't do it on purpose? Or that our wives just couldn't help themselves? Or understand that, like our teenagers, as adults we also go through periods of growth where we lose or damn minds? As adults are we so closed minded, so jaded, so egotistical to realize that all of us are imperfect? We are all fighting "the good fight" trying to balance running our lives and living our lives. Knowing this, is it really a huge deal that your partner can't put the toilet seat down? Or, on a heaver note, If little Johnny has a hard time understanding something, as a parent, don't you go about it differently until he does? Why do we find it so difficult to try something different for big Johnny? My feelings aren't more important than my husbands. (But don't think I haven't tried to make them so) And his mistakes are just as damaging as mine. (But don't think he hasn't tried to deemphasize his contribution) We need to become conscious of the certainty that we are all human, we are all flawed, and we are all broken in some fashion. But what do I know? Like I said..I fucking love love...but I suck at it. Now if you will excuse me I'm going to watch "The Notebook".

*As a side note: I'm not talking about people in abusive relationships. I'm talking about "normal" relationships. Whatever the hell that is!

Intro Blog

　
My love affair with books started at a young age. A little golden books were the best. I still have a copy of my favorite "The Tiny Tawny Kitten" It's a story about a little kitten who overcomes her fears and befriends the big scary dog next door. Even at a young age I had a fascination with overcoming fears and strengthening one’s self. I would spend the weekend at my grandma's house and we would take our strawberries and sugar, a big stack of books and go sit in her scratchy chair and read. "The Great Cookie Thief" was her favorite. Mine was "The Amazing Mumford Forgets The Magic Words", which you do know were " A LA PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICHES!" Grandma would have to animate those words to my satisfaction before we could turn the page. As I got older Judy Blume and Beverly Clearly were favorites. And I'm not ashamed to say that I have the entire Flowers in the attic series...well maybe a little.
I'm sure I wasn't just born with this love affair. Both of my parents loved to read. My Grandmother loved trashy romance novels which I thankfully can say I never grew to appreciate. It was my mother who showed me how to use books as a tool to help inform and guide me through life. The sex talk? My mother sat me down with a copy of "Where did I come from", read it to me and then we had a conversation about it. Do you know how embarrassing that was for a grade school er to read that book with their mother!? THEY HAVE ANIMATED PENIS PICTURES IN THAT BOOK!! Her belief was that any major (or minor) life event could be helped out with an informational book on the subject. This has proven to be an awesome parenting tool for me as well. My father, on the other hand, was a different story; he was only interested in helping himself. He suffered from depression and would turn to books as a way to gain some insight on himself. I honestly don't think he was trying to help himself, just find any documentation on why he might be the way he was. That way he could use it as an excuse the next time someone tried to hold him accountable for his actions. He would dog ear pages, highlight key points, and write his own notes on any available free space.
The information and escape isn't the only thing I love about the book. I love walking down an aisle of a book store, hundreds of books lined up neatly. Some of their covers glossy with bright colors trying to grab my attention as I walk by. Others darker, with a more subtle appearance, going on the principle that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. I love the sound a hard cover book makes when you open it for the first time. The flap of a softcover book as you fan out the pages. The way it feels in your hand as your read the back cover. And I love the smell of a new book. I always open up to the middle and sniff. What does it smell like? Knowledge? Adventure? Nope...Print. I've got a thing for it.
I have always imagined that someday I will have a room in my house filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves. Books, a huge rug, and a chaise lounge. I probably should put a lamp in there too, I'm getting older and my eyes aren't what they used to be. My husband, with frequency, will comment on my collection. "You bought another book?" That statement has hidden meaning. Why did you buy another book when you have a dozen or so you haven't even read yet?? I recently bought a kindle in hopes that I would save a little money and cut down on the book clutter...I hate it. My kids use it.
After I have read a book and put it in its place on the shelf its holds a story far beyond the words written down. It's now filled with thoughts and feelings of my own. The energy that surrounded my life at the time I read it. Some women collect shoes...I collect books.

But it was August 31,1997 that birthed my obsession with self-help books. It was my awakening, my HOLY SHIT I HAVE PROBLEMS moment...my very first panic attack. And after I had been through doctor appointments, test after test, and found out that I was having anxiety, I bought my first self-help book. "Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway" I was hooked. I held that book in my hand like I had found the secret to life itself. Essentially I had, because I didn’t stop at one, or two. My collection has grown in size and content over the years. I have even bought books on subjects that I don’t even have any issues with. The pages are filled with so much knowledge all related to helping you become a better person. Don’t get me wrong, some of these books disappoint me. I have a few rules when buying these books now. I stay away from religious books. If that is something you find helpful, go for it. It's just not my thing. I also stay away from books that become too technical, I would love to know the science behind depression, but an entire book about that science isn’t going to help me do anything but understand just that. That being said, every single self-help book I have ever read has left me with at least a few points I find helpful. Religious, technical, you name it. I have taken a little bit from every book, and will continue to do so until I become perfect. OK, so forever.
These books can be a little frustrating as well. I have read entire books telling me to do this, don’t do that, and never EVER go that way. Feel this, don’t feel that and if you do, STOP IT! Um OK, HOW?? Because if I knew how I wouldn’t have spent 15 bucks!
I hope someday to write my own "real talk" self-help book. In the meantime what a better way to explore human nature than to interact with other humans!?