Category: Family & Friends

From spouses to spit-up

Broken Guitar Strings and Rookie Mistakes

Who has two thumbs and broke their first guitar string today?

That’s right! This gal!

The only thing that could make that story better is something silly, right? How about it broke because I was tuning the wrong string?

Yep. I did that.

Another thing. I’ve been practicing two chords since Friday (also known as the first day in my life I ever played my guitar) and was wondering why my strum sounded different than the tutorial. I tuned the guitar and made sure the little line was right in the middle. Over and over I checked.

Then I saw a block diagram and realized my guitar strings were tuned to the wrong notes!

I feel so silly!

Knowing the correct notes I got to tunin’ and was fine until the fifth (second?) string. I was turning that little knob and nothing was happening.

You know I was turning the wrong knob, right?

I figured it out while I was picking the string and suddenly the string next to it broke and I was all how did that happen??


Wrong knob.

Now I feel like a knob.

Guess who has two thumbs and is going to Guitar Center tonight for more strings?


This gal.

Book Review (or, What I Burned Into My Brain So Far This Summer)

This summer has been an interesting one for books.

There are two that have completely seared into my brain and I’m not sure if I’m entirely okay with them being there. The first one is a book I’ve been on the fence about since I finished reading it. Gripped by Jason Donnelly is one of those books that if you can look past ONE thing, it’s amazing. Just one thing. I feel like a prude even mentioning it and I can’t believe I’m admitting it but…


That’s what the sock on the cover is for. The sock is filled, punished, and there is just a metric TON of masturbation references in this book. The funniest one is the opener. I found that every time it was mentioned my “book trance” was broken. You know the book trance – it’s that place where you’re reading the book but you’re also IN the book, being one with the story. It was kind of like being in a plane ride you really wanted to take and then there’s this pesky turbulence. It’s not bad, but it lasts the entire flight.

I’m not a prude. I guess even saying that makes me sound like even more of a prude than you might have been thinking already. But the other book I seared into my brain is a really graphic, gross, short horror story called The Curse of Grandpa’s Corpse by Steven Crown. It was graphic, pretty horrible, and had some seriously senseless violence and a whole bunch of other gross stuff. I liked it. I like crazy.

The thing about Gripped, though, is the story that exists beyond the masturbation references. There’s this great conspiracy story about social media. It’s fantastic, it’s funny, and it’s well written.

I don’t regret reading Gripped at all. It’s not a book I can have in my house because young readers, and that’s a bummer, because this is a book I’d like my kids to read if I could strip all the nonessential crap out of it. They could learn from a great story and be more aware of social media marketing by reading this ramped up story that takes it to a crazy, hilarious level.

Also, the reason I mention the masturbation is this: I think if you know in advance, you won’t be stopped in your tracks or thrown off by it. You can filter it out and read a book that is really, really good. It’s funny, there’s romance, there’s conspiracy.

Surprise! I highly recommend it! Knowing what I know now, I’d still read it. I think I might enjoy it more with a little foresight, which is saying a lot.

I switched from fiction on Saturday and began reading a couple Coursera courses and now – every day – I read my block diagrams for how to play A Minor and E Major. I practice until my fingers hurt, which only takes a few minutes, and then I put the guitar down and wait for my fingers not to hurt and then I go back to my block diagrams and start reading and playing again for another few minutes.

Oh my gosh, how could I forget my other reading. The soul-crushing jaunts through books where llamas can’t sleep and mothers who try and one-up the love of their children in order to profess their love. Bedtime in our house involves singing because by the time they’re in bed I am too tired to read one more book.

They are almost advanced enough readers I can bring out my big, hardcover anniversary edition of Chronicles of Narnia. That will at least be more interesting than bears who love you thiiiiiiis much. Every single time you read it. *headdesk*

What have you been reading this summer? 


Potty Training Regression – SOLVED!

Disclaimer: This is working really well for me. It might not work really well for you. When I say, “Solved!” I mean it was solved in my home by me for my one child. Your mileage may vary.

mnmsOkay, so yesterday you may have read about my whole house smelling like pee. It was gross and I love bleach and learned from my friend Susan that maybe I should have just used more vinegar and hey vinegar and citrus may actually work like febreeze because everything I sprayed smells pretty darn good right now.

If you didn’t read it but you want to, you can go catch up, I’ll wait.

Okay, we’re all on the same page now? Great. I was trying to figure out what to do about the geyser of pee my preschooler was creating while sitting at my laptop watching Brooklyn DA (great show, btw) when she yelled from the bathroom (which is pretty much directly behind me), “MOMMY! I POOOOOOOED!” Which translates to, “Hey mom, could you come grab a baby wipe from the back of the toilet and take care of business, please?” No problem, I’m on it. (Yes, this is actually pertinent to the story.)

After she hopped off the toilet to pull up her pants, she looks up at me and says, “I get M&M’s now?”

Because we used M&M’s to potty train and then to try and wean her off her daily diet of M&Ms we only gave them to her for pooping because not pooping anywhere but the toilet is pretty much the most important thing. It’s important like Fashion Week to Rachel Zoe. It’s everything.


I told her that since she was such a big girl and could poop in the potty we didn’t need to do M&Ms for pooping anymore. We were going to do less M&Ms more times during the day by giving her M&Ms for peeing in the toilet.

She agreed to this plan because more M&Ms overall and I basically began to pray this would work.

Not one accident was had yesterday. She stayed dry. We took a two hour car drive and she was dry. She hung out for a BBQ at our friend’s house for hours until she was so overtired I thought she’d collapse and she was dry. We came home and she was dry.

Seriously, I’m pretty sure she’d learn calculus in a day if I offered her enough M&Ms.

This is also one of the places in my life I’m not green, organic, or GMO-free. I don’t care if M&Ms are made of baby tears, cat fur, and hate. I’m perfectly happy shoving the little happy pee-in-the-toilet faux-chocolate-pills down her preschool gob as long as it takes to make sure the toilet is the only place that stuff ends up.

For those of you thinking of doing this, here’s how my M&M strategy breaks down.

We were giving her five (regular) M&Ms for poop. She usually rocks that out a couple times a day so she was getting about 10 M&Ms a day.

Now, she gets 2 M&Ms for every time she pees, but only 1 M&M if she gets her undies a tad wet because she waited a little too long but got most of it in the potty. (She got really angry when this happened once, I don’t see it happening again.) So she peed about 7 times yesterday (but three were at someone else’s house and we don’t go toting M&Ms around the world with us) so she ended up with about 8 M&Ms. A normal day will be in between 10-14 M&Ms a day.

The nutrition value on those M&Ms is … JUST KIDDING, I don’t care.

Hopefully, this will continue to be an effective solution until she’s old enough to have a long talk about why urinating anywhere but the toilet is a bad idea. Until then, I’m fine with the status quo, because it is working.

Have you ever had to deal with potty training regression? How did you do it?


My House Smells Like Pee & Being Green Takes A Backseat

toilets-signI’m pretty green. I make my own shampoo, use completely all-natural deodorant*, clean with homemade cleaner, and my family diet is almost completely “real food” with very little processed stuff.

I’m not bragging. I don’t get crappy if I’m at someone’s house and they’re making a frozen dinner for their kids. I make my choices independent of other people’s choices. My choices do not place a value on the choices of others. Lately we’ve been poor and bread made it back into our diet because it’s what they had at the food pantry and we were faced with living a literal version of beggars can’t be choosers.

Of course, the reverse isn’t usually true. I see other people who are more organic or better at x, y, or z and I think I should be doing better. I try to figure out what else I can make at home or how I can improve my kids’ summer without throwing my hands in the air and giving in to video games for three months. I use other people to try and be better. (…and usually feel like I’m failing because I’m comparing myself to everyone else, not just one other person.)

Lately, my three year old has regressed in potty training. I don’t mean she’s having an accident now and then – she’s peeing all over the house like a feral cat. Ever since my first pregnancy my nose went into overdrive and I can smell a storm hours before it comes and with this came an absolutely unbearable reaction to the smell of pee. During my pregnancies, all the carpet has been removed from my house and replaced with tile. (You just can’t get the smell of pee out, ever. Not good enough for pregnant nose to get past.) But even with tile and faux-hardwood floors all I have smelled in my house for weeks is pee. I’ve thrown out three mattresses, two mattress covers, a throw rug, and a partridge in a pear tree.

It’s disgusting. The only thing worse is I’m the only one who smells it. My house is gaslighting me. Stupid house.

This morning I did a load of laundry that consisted of pretty much every pair of leggings and underwear for my preschooler. Even a couple pairs of her sisters’ undies because she ran out of hers yesterday. As I was putting the soap into the washing machine (Charlie’s Soap, of course – the powder, not the liquid) I glanced down and saw the bleach dispenser.

It whispered my name.

“Jen,” it said, “you know what smell will fill your house when you do a hot-water load of laundry and bleach gets dumped in?”
“No, washing machine, what happens?” I said because I talk to appliances sometimes.
“The whole house will smell like bleach.”

You know what a house that smells like bleach doesn’t smell like? That’s right. Pee.

So that’s how this green mama decided that today, vinegar in the dryer wasn’t going to cut it. I want to bleach the pee out of my LIFE if possible. I want a house that smells like anything other than pee. If that’s bleach, so be it.

My house smelling lightly of bleach also has an unexpected side benefit. It smells like my childhood home. It’s making me happy in a very real, deeply emotional way. I don’t actively remember my great-grandmother cleaning with bleach, but it smells like home, so she must have at some point.

My nose is getting a break, and I can go back to my new plan for the preschooler. I told her no more M&M’s for poop but I’ll give her two for every time she pees – just until she gets back in the habit. I don’t know why she’s regressed (possibilities include…job change, preschool change, summer vacation, prolonged illness in the family, being three) but I know we’ll get through it using positive reinforcement and a lot of love.

*Quick Note: I originally bought Crunchy Betty Kokomo Cream Deodorant and it comes with directions on how to make it yourself! My skin is too sensitive but this stuff works great and my husband uses it. After it’s gone, I’ll be making more for him. I use Soapwalla Deodorant Cream because it has no baking soda, which made me break out horribly. (Just wanted to let you know!)

What is your favorite “not green” thing to eat or clean with?

5 Free Father’s Day Gifts

fathers-day-imageI was talking to a friend of mine on Facebook who was talking about Father’s Day Gift Guides (well, actually, gift guides in general) and how they were a pain to put together. She is an amazing author and spends hours putting together a gift guide with gifts for almost every kind of father! (You should visit her at her amazing, fabulous blog.)

The thing is, I could never make you a Father’s Day gift list of amazing tech and quirky gadgets. We used to do things like that but haven’t for years. It’s a side effect of having no money. While being poor can be not-so-great it does force a family to be creative on holidays to show dad how much we love him.

So I’ve made a gift guide for father’s day that requires no money. Here’s an unexpected bonus: You never have to worry about affiliate links when the suggestions are free! 🙂

All that to say here are five ideas I’ve used in the past to celebrate Father’s Day without spending any money. They’re dad tested, mother and kid approved!

Always a Classic, the Homemade Card – Not just from the kids, either. Make your honey a card for goodness sake. If it’s just the kids making cards, supervise so they put a little extra effort in. This one works in addition to any other ideas.

Write and Choreograph A Family Musical – This one has more to do with the type of kids you have than anything else. If they’re creative, they can stage a play or a musical for dad. From costumes to dance moves to songs they can make Father’s Day special. Bonus points = Making him sit still and watch. If you can get a princess crown on his head, so much the better.

Rock A Scavenger Hunt – Front yard, back yard, local park, or even friend’s houses…a scavenger hunt can have clues written by the kids to find trinkets, matchbox cars, or other toys. When dad finds them all, he wins! (What he wins is up to you, but we just said he won hugs and kisses and we’d make dinner and he was pretty stoked.)

The Sound of Silence – If the father in your life is a quiet guy who loves a good book or has a bunch of shows on the DVR he hasn’t had time to watch, this is the gift! Take the kids and go to the park for a few hours and let him watch or read whatever for a while.

Storytime is Together-Time – Have your child or children read a story to dad. Do you know what his favorite book was when he was a kid? I’ve heard Where the Wild Things Are is a favorite for boys/dads everywhere. If not, there’s always Goodnight Moon or an Olivia book. Make sure your little reader takes the time to show dad the pictures while they read. The beauty of Father’s Day is the focus on family.

Whatever gift you choose, whether it’s free or costs money, all that matters is that the family is making an effort to show dad he is a special guy. From playing video games together to reading together, from  putting on music in the living room and having a family dance party to letting the kids serve dinner like they’re the family waitstaff. Whatever it is, make sure it’s about hugs and making memories.

Love is always the best gift.

Doing Dishes As a Success Story

I wash my dishes in the sink, but to each their own!700 more drafts later I’ve got a post I think I might actually hit “Publish” on.

The big problem with the drafts-that-will-never-be-read is the tone. I seem to either hit kind of a whiny tone or a cocky tone or a “look how easy it is” tone. None of these are accurate reflections of who I am or how I feel.

This post is about the disconnect caused by sickness and getting back to the place you vaguely remember as being good.

I’m almost well. I’m at about 90% and I can’t tell you what a relief it is. The problem is this is week 7 of being not 100% and around week 2 is when I started to forget what “well” felt like. Between belittling myself for “giving in” to being sick and not powering through it and collapsing in bed for a 24 hour stretch now and then it’s been rough. Now I’m measuring my successes in these baby steps that are both depressing and inspiring depending on what time of the day it is and which way the wind is blowing.

One of the things I’ve noticed is my connection to people and things and beliefs was so muted as to be almost completely gone. The scary thing is that I didn’t notice this happening until it was over and my feelings started to come back.

So I really took joy in doing dishes for the first time in almost seven full weeks. I know, it sounds weird to take joy in doing dishes, but making the house a home is something I’d really started getting into while my husband was in training for his new job as a bricklayer. He would come home and tell me about what he was learning and I enjoyed having my stories of learning, too. The difference is he was learning something physical and my learning was more spiritual.

By the time he graduated from training, my house was stunning. I was running on habit and I could take pictures of my kids anywhere and know they would be Facebook-ready. (It’s just shorthand, I don’t post a bunch of pictures of my kids on Facebook but if I ever have grandchildren I don’t want them to think their moms were raised in a pigsty, either. I don’t want my kids to have to explain anything to someone who sees pictures of their childhood or make excuses for how their home looked when they were young.)

I want to get back to that place. The place past learning and well into expertise. Where I’m not constantly thinking about what has to be done next. Where my habits lead me through a list that has become second nature.

For those who know me, this might seem like I’ve gone off the domestic deep-end. I am an ambitious woman and when I was younger I thought being a housewife was the most depressing prospect of all the possible life outcomes I could see for myself.

I think now that was a mistake.

Sometimes I still think making my loving home a spotless one is setting the bar low. I think I should be doing something more exceptional. But then I look at divorce rates and I look at how unhappy some people are and what people are going through and I look at my family and realize that what I am attempting to do is not easy by any stretch of the imagination. Keeping my husband my best friend after ten years, keeping my girls feeling free while following the house rules and giving them consistent parenting…these are my goals.

So I’m a smart woman who has chosen to do something that most people think an idiot can do.

We’re going on a journey to clean the house, schedule the family, keep the marriage strong, and build a cohesive life we all participate in and enjoy.

On the bright side, I actually started this journey a couple months ago and then had a seven-week hiatus where it all kind of fell apart a little. It isn’t completely broken, which proves that systems – once instituted and followed – take longer than just a day to all go to hell. Positive habits can sustain a hit and thrive.

That’s the hope I’m hanging onto even during days like today where all my energy can only get the dishes washed and put away.

I hope you’ll stick with me on this journey!! (I’ll still be writing about fitness and food, too, but in the context of a whole life, not as something that lives separate from the rest of my family and my life.)

I’m doing my best to help refresh my connection with my family by giving them extra hugs today. Yesterday as each girl woke up I let her pick a color and I painted her toes. The youngest has pink toenails, the middle has blue, and the oldest has purple. They are all thrilled, because they love my painted – always red – toes. So they feel a little more grown up and I’ve been reminding them that grown up little girls help with chores. They did the dishes yesterday, so I have that on the “hey, that works!” list of things to do!

Even if you’re not a housewife and don’t want to be one, stick with me, because I think improvement and the inspiration to get to your next level can come from anywhere. Also, just because I have a traditional family don’t think I’m only trying to talk to traditional families, but because I do have the boring family please know I of course won’t understand your circumstances in the same way you do.

If you don’t judge me, I won’t judge you and we can all get along. In fact, I’ll take it a step further. If you try to understand me, I’ll try and understand you – regardless of who you are.

Let’s all find a way to be good enough in our own way together!


Sickness and Shame and Blame and Fixing Something Broken

shame-faceI am reading Daring Greatly by Brené Brown and I’m thinking to myself, “Wow. This shame and vulnerability research is amazing. It describes exactly why I react to stress the way I do, and the reasons he responds the way he does. I can work with this.”

If my husband wasn’t doing work-related things today I would make him sit down with me and talk it through, because I’m very excited about the possibilities.

You see, I’ve been sick for about five weeks now. Or maybe this is the fifth week. Either way, I’ve had bacterial bronchitis and it has been absolutely horrible. I’ve been weak to my bones. For those of you who aren’t sure what I mean by that, it’s where you just can’t make yourself do anything. I wonder if it’s the way depression feels. Even when I started to look better on the outside, my insides weren’t catching up.

I felt a lot of shame.

“Other sick mothers keep the house clean.” I told myself

“Other sick mothers don’t forget about Girl Scout meetings.”

“Other sick mothers don’t phone in dinner.”

These are the things I said softly to myself while I sat on the edge of the bed and cried. After I had explained my Girl Scout mistake and put my very-understanding girls to bed.

Then I turned to my husband and said, “You never have my back when I really need it.” I just turned on my husband and blamed him. He was sick, too, but for some reason I was about three times more ill than he was and my illness lasted about three times as long. So he was, in my mind, the “less sick” person in the relationship. He should be the one keeping up with things since I – obviously – could not. If I couldn’t be perfect someone had to do it and by golly it better be him, sick or not.

“Why didn’t you pick up my slack? Can’t you see I’m sick?” (His response was to cough deeply and give me a look of utter shock. He. Was. Blindsided.)

Brené says that research shows, “Blame is an attempt to displace mental suffering from ourselves to others.”


So, if you are where I’m at and you’ve already gone though The Orange Rhino to stop yelling (I’m doing great and the kids are doing pretty good, too. I can’t wait for everyone in the house to not be yelling 99% of the time, but that’s probably not totally realistic with a three year old in the mix – we’ll see!) Why not kick it up a notch and start NOT blaming other people and NOT shaming yourself.

It’s so much harder than it sounds. Also, this is one of those areas where the smarter you are, the more difficult it is. You’re used to convincing other people your logic is sound, now you have to tear apart the fortress you have built in your own mind. The one you use to tell yourself you could have tried a little harder, you could have done a little more.

The voice that lives in my head that says, “You’re not really that sick, you’re just making it worse than it really is to get attention. To be lazy. To sleep in. To not clean. To give in to your anxiety.”

I need to start listening to another voice, because if I cannot be kind to myself I cannot be selflessly kind to others. Kindness will always come with a value attached because I view kindness given to me with a value attached, as well. I thought it was important because I initially used the value-for-kindness to keep track of what to appreciate in others…and for that purpose it works really well and isn’t a horrible thing. But then, when I turn it on myself, it becomes, “Well you could have done more for that person in need. Did you choose your family over that work obligation because you’re just lazy and don’t like your work anymore?”

It’s a never-ending broken record of shame and self-hatred and I’m sloughing it off.

I was kind of hoping that when I typed that it would magically just kind of go away. It didn’t. See, now I’m going to have to work on it. Ick.

I hate working on it. Mostly because I know how to write an article, I know how to sing a song, but I don’t know how to effectively work through emotional struggles. I usually just ignore them and hope they go away or yell at someone. Now the yelling is gone and ignoring is no longer an option, I may have to actually practice loving myself the way I am trying to teach my children to.


I decided that the best way to work on it was to bring it out into the open and talk about it. With you, of course! But also with my husband last night. The look on his face when I told him, “According to this book, women would rather a man die than show actual vulnerability. Isn’t that crazy?” (this is just my half of the conversation, it’s like a Mad Lib…you can fill in his half…)


Me, too?

But I want you to show real vulnerability!


It would make me feel….scared.


So after that uncomfortable conversation I realized I’d taken the first few real steps that went beyond theory and thinking.  My husband also told me he wants to read the book when I’m done so we can talk about it.

I’ll keep you updated.

Yet Another Purpose Post

meditating-statueThere are a lot of things I believe in and enjoy.

  • Caring for one another.
  • Equality.
  • Kindness.
  • Not focusing on the lives of others to make yourself feel better OR worse.
  • Money
  • Writing
  • Feeling Good
  • Religions (I really love religions…fascinating stuff…I was almost a Theology major in college that first time out.)
  • ……tons of other stuff.

I want to be all forward with information, but seriously, this is a public forum. There are things I’m not 100% comfortable sharing. Some people are, and for those people I think sharing everything is just fine.

So, if I have a blog and I’m not going to share every detail of my life, I need to figure out how we can have a great relationship and give you something awesome to read instead of just meandering around my brain hither and thither.

(Hither and thither is worth the price of entry though, right? You won’t get that anywhere else.)

  • I have a serious anxiety disorder, but it’s not something I want to talk about as much as Jenny does. Even if I did want to, I couldn’t make it as funny or as touching.
  • I like to cook but don’t have the dedication to being awesome that Toni has.
  • I’m super into self-improvement but don’t have the talent at helping others with it that Steve does.
  • I’m hella into body-hacking and exercise but really how many times can I talk about being Paleo/Primal or doing the Walk at Home moves to my favorite TV shows to get my miles in? Boooooooring.
  • I am a deep believer that Budgets are Sexy – but that’s being done too damn well by J$.
  • I like photography but who can compete with Darren for a comprehensive, amazing site on digital photography? That’s right. No one.
  • My background in marketing and social media, well, I’m not blogging about that. Ever. You know who made me cry with their amazing insight into marketing? Max. That’s who. Read his books. Unless you want to be an author/writer someday, then don’t read Lexicon. It will break your heart because you will never write that well. No, really, never. (It even has two endings but doesn’t F it completely the way the AI did with five endings, lol)

I’m running out of things to be good at, here. I would commit myself, I would be dedicated…but everything I’m good at someone is doing better.

Not just a little better, either. I mean a LOT better. These people are amazing, and they are revolutionary, and they are special, and it’s a little weird but two out of seven are Australian (how did that happen?) and I could never be Australian so I’m just borked.

I’m not saying I want to explore a niche that’s never been touched, because I don’t even know if that’s possible, but I want to find an angle of a topic that I could write about – and enjoy writing about – for a long time.

How does one even figure this kind of thing out?

I seriously want to go on a retreat that involves guided meditation, a talking stick, group sharing, and a lot of shell necklaces and beach fires. Of course, wherever you go, there you are. I’d probably spend the whole time laughing at the people who were shallow-playing-deep. I’m a judgemental cow.

For real.

I’m horrible.

(but funny as hell)


On the bright side if I’m going to do a navel-gazing post at least I’ll link you to blogs and sites that are worth spending time on, so I’m being a resource. Yea!

Easter Holiday Recap (Mamavation Style)

I think the most important part of Easter for me was the sunburn.

MI-Starbucks-Easter-2013-croppedThat’s right, I got sunburned on a cold day in Michigan. It’s a talent. It also happened because I spent a good deal of the day hanging out in the sun on the back porch feeling warm and watching the kids play. It felt great in my heart and on my body.

I was feeling a little dizzy later in the day and my cousin said it was probably because I was eating differently than usual since I stay mainly paleo. She mentioned the carb-fest that is the holiday party food buffet and it dawned on me that I hadn’t eaten any of that. Well, that’s not entirely true, I had two pieces of fried chicken and veggies a plenty – so carbs were had. But other than that it was ham and some sausage and sauerkraut (I love that Randy’s family is polish. Sausage and sauerkraut is really, really good stuff.) Oh, cabbage has carbs, doesn’t it? There you go. That was my Easter feast.

We figured out later I was actually just really hungry. Luckily we had leftover veggies in the trunk and when we stopped at Starbucks on the way home (A tradition!) he got an extra cup and filled it with veggies and I was happy, munching all the way home.

My hopes are high that I have finally passed into the land of only eating when I’m hungry. That or I’m in the beginning stages of an eating disorder. Probably the hungry eating thing. Let’s hope.

My exercise for Easter weekend consisted of walking all over hell’s half-acre at the Lake County Fairgrounds with the kids for an egg hunt, face panting, and bouncy-house fun. Pictures with Elmo, Belle, and Tinkerbell and then shopping for Easter until about 11pm with my friend to make sure everything was just right for Easter morning.

That’s the main reason why I was looking forward to just relaxing on the back porch during the family Easter celebration. I did. It was good. I managed to talk to almost everyone (there were 23 people *faint*) and we stayed to put away extra tables and chairs.

It was a great day for us and for the kids, which is such a win.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

march-calendarAs you know, I’ve been talking about my husband being in training.

He graduates from training tomorrow.

He may or may not have interviews tomorrow and the teachers at the training facility tell the group that they should all be working by no later than the second week of April.

All this sounds vague and scary to me. I want assurances, promises, definite things written in writing. It’s just the way I am. I like things to be super-clear so I can put it in the place in my head where constant worrying doesn’t take place. Let’s call it the spa in my mind. Except it probably doesn’t have cool nudity, water, or a sauna, because renovations haven’t been done on that part of my brain in a very long time. I’m hoping we can expand that area and move some currently worrysome clients to that part of my mind in a short period of time. For their own good as well as my sanity.

Of course, I don’t feel comfortable sharing more because until this is a done deal, I don’t want to jinx it. I’m feeling very superstitious and there are a few people that know what’s going on but many more that don’t know and I don’t want to put a psychic target on his back. (I told you I was getting superstitious, you have no idea how true that is.)

So tomorrow is it. Awards are given out, graduation occurs, and he – presumably – then has interviews and chooses a job and starts working.

Until that happens I’ll be over here with a drink in one hand and my anxiety meds in the other. Because I can’t cope right now and really don’t have a lot of people I can whine to because who do you whine to when your husband has a great opportunity about to happen but you have to somehow get through the last few days before that great opportunity actually starts?