p.s.

Also.. Don't get your little panties in a wad. Because if you are reading this, the person I am angry about is not you. Because that person never talks to me. 

There. Glad we settled that. 

Carry on!

You know Jacob has had enough when...

I called Brandice today and told her how grumpy my husband was today, and how I thought it was so out-of-the-ordinary because WE WIVES are supposed to be the grumpy ones!! We are the ones running after that wild-eyed two year old with a magic marker in her little hand, while she makes a streak of black along the hallway wall. All the while I am screaming "get back here!" and she is laughing hysterically.  Oh, Motherhood.. you tricky tricky thing. You show me this beautiful helpless babe who needs me for sustenance and life, and then it grows to be a marker-loving-2-year-old devil who likes to kick you in the face while wiggling in your bed at 3 a.m.

So Jacob woke up grumpy. Maybe it was the fact that before we even got out of bed this morning, Lily had woken up, found my make-up bag, unzipped it, found the mascara and clutching it in her little hands, had made a beautiful black drawing on her bedroom floor carpet.   and her legs.   and her face.   and my make-up bag. 

It is times like this that I treasure the most.. the Jacob-being-grumpy part.  He is so funny when he is grumpy.  I asked him to help me make dinner in the kitchen, which tonight consists of cutting up a bunch of fresh vegetables from the garden to make a chicken vegetable stew.  The girls had come running through, with an elaborate play they made up starring Lily as Strawberry Shortcake, Anne as her dog Pupcake, and Madeline as her cat Custard.  I riled them up by announcing that today was National Chocolate Milk day, and "who wants some??".  

After giving them their drinks and all the jumping and shouting on their part, Jacob ushered them back into their bedroom, put a Strawberry Shortcake movie on for them,  and warned them not to leave the room.  I didn't know this until I took a break from making dinner to go back there and check on them. 

They were all sitting there, playing out the parts, and I sat down and gave Lily a big hug. Anne looked at me and said, in a sort-of shy tone : "Daddy said if we set one toe out of this room, he was going to put us in the basement and make us starve. " In which Anne and I busted out laughing... how ridiculous is that?   Please!!   If we put them anywhere, they would find a way out. They would eat through the walls, these kids of mine. They are tough and mean and have sharp metal teeth.  And Jacob has the biggest heart of gold. He can't even bring himself  to spank those girls, or put them in the corner. 

I just heard him leave the kitchen, grab a girl in the hallway and growl "RRRAAAAWWWRRR!!! I'M AN OGRE!!!" and I know that hearing all the girls screaming secretly made him happy. 

Things I Love: (part one)

1. I love Brandice. I love Brandice because she talks to me and understands me but most importantly... Does not judge my crazy ways. She probably just shakes her head and says something like "OH, That Laura!!!".
2. Ben and Jerry's Mint Chocolate Chip Ice cream.  No explanation. 
3. My husband. He is my hero.    He. Is. My. Hero. 
4. I love water. I dream about water every--single---night. Some times I am on a boat, drifting in deep blue calm waves. Sometimes there is a flood, and I am watching the waves lap up onto a porch or room. Sometimes I am on a beach, and drifting out to sea. Not sure what this means except perhaps it is because I am a pisces and the fact that I always have loved water. 
5. I love Journey. Probably one of the reasons I keep watching Adam Sandler movies is because I know I will get to hear "Don't Stop Believing"  at some point. 
6. There is always a song in my head. It is usually one that I heard while walking around Rite Aid and it stuck.  Something by Lionel Ritchie.
7. I always knew I was going to marry someone with a name that started with "J", and I knew they were going to be a musician. I KNEW IT.  I dated 2 Joshs,  1 Jason,  2 Johns,  a Joel, Jeremys.. 3 Jeremys.  Weird?? Yes. 
8. When  Jacob and I were in pre-marital counseling, Jacob told David MacKay that he had never met anyone that knew so much about music without being a musician.  That was probably the biggest compliment he has ever given me. Plus.. you should have seen that grin on David's face. 
9. Pandora is my new best friend.  Music compels me to have a better day and I usually thrive while working around it. I think I have driven people away with my senseless singing of Radiohead jabber.  Or Bjork. Poor Jaimee.  
10. At one point in my life I became obsessed with Bjork.  It was a weird time in my life, and I just clung to it. I realized my obsession and gave all my imports and precious music/videos/books to ex-boyfriend Jeremy.  It isn't that I don't still like her music, but I just don't need to be around it, for healthy reasons.  (Jaimee is happy)
11. One time I begged my mother to let me go the Nirvana concert. Some of my friends were going, and she was adamant that I was NOT going.  The next day my friend wore his Nirvana shirt to school that he got at the concert. As he walked past me, my anger rose up and I firmly punched him square in the gut. He crumpled behind me and I kept walking. I apologized later that day, though. Poor Jon Powell.  He's still my friend. 
12. I always wished I could have been a photographer. I love taking pictures. I feel that I am in a great spot, though. I feel blessed to be able to stay home with my girls and enjoy the age that they are at... and I still take pictures. 
13. I was actually a much better kid than my Mother or family thought I was. I think they probably thought I was a bit of a rebel. Perhaps I was with my dress, but I was actually a really good kid.  There is no way I could have shown them that though. 
14. My husband has the most beautiful eyes that I have ever seen.  He is also the kindest, most peaceful person. But he can't hear worth a damn. Stupid sawmill. 
15. I will probably never eat pimento cheese. It doesn't look right. Cheese is white, people. Not orange. They dye the cheese that color, you know.  We eat Cabot in our house. Pimento cheese just looks all sort of wrong. 
    

I am going to let you in on a few more secrets, ( like how I still rock out to Smashing Pumpkins) but later. Right now, I have to go take Miss Madeline to Movie Gallery where I am sure she will either pick out a. Hello Kitty movie,  b. My Little Pony movie,  c. Strawberry Shortcake movie,  or  d. another Beethoven movie.

Wish us luck.

12-4

Sitting in your basement at 2:30 in the morning because you can't sleep is never the right way to deal with anger. In my defense, I really don't know what else to do but sit here and cry out to God as to what to do with all the hurt, because I am no longer able to function as a realistic wife/friend/mother/daughter with bottled up emotions. I am able to function in a way that people notice something is wrong, but maybe they can't pinpoint it, or perhaps they just don't know how to awkwardly ask why I am behaving in such a way that would make them notice. 

 

Whatever the reasoning, I still sit here. The light of my computer and the hum of my husbands computer. I wonder how long it will take before I go to bed. I wonder how long my husband will let me sleep it off tomorrow. I wonder how long I will continue to not talk to my Father. I wonder how long it will be before he finally calls. I wonder if I will answer. I wonder if my daughters will wonder why we don't visit them anymore. I am wondering if I will continue to feel this way or if it will subside with time, or if I will get bitter and angrier as time goes by. 

I feel like there is freedom ahead but am unsure how to walk towards it. I can see beautiful things but don't know how to reach out and touch them . This is surely to be a long and painful process.  I hope that my daughters will be able to see a strong woman, a loving mother, who stands guard over them, and not the weak and sobbing lady in her bathrobe in the basement. 

I'll never really know, I suppose. But I do know that I am raising my daughters to be able to talk to me, to be able to say the things they want to say, and I will listen. I will listen with every ounce of energy that I have, because I want it. I will be the grandparent that I see in my friends Larry and Helen. I will call my grandchildren, and I will ask them all about their day, and ask them what they had for lunch and who their friends are at school. I will encourage them in the things they love and I will kiss and hug and support them. I will call them on their birthday and tell them how wonderful and special they are. I will have the desire and drive to be the better grandparent.  I will sit at my kitchen table and have long talks with  my daughters over tea or coffee or whisky.. depends on what they are going through.  I will pat them on their hands with my old withered and worn hands, with love, letting them know that storms pass and better times are ahead.  

There is so much hope for them. They come from very loving parents, who in turn love in each other. We work together, and amuse our children with silly games and stories. We lay in the grass together and look at clouds and birds and stars. We play hide and go seek in our home and always act surprised when we hear giggling  coming from the closet and little faces jump out at us. And although it sounds warm and fuzzy and perfect, no ones family is ..  I am guessing that in the great balance of life, the sadness and heartbreak of my childhood and now adulthood will perhaps bring a greater sense of purpose, and create a loving family environment for my daughters childhood.  I learn from others mistakes. That is why I eloped. That is why I stand up for myself when I need to.. and why I stand back and not get involved in others conflicts. 

I am still learning. 

Hopefully a great big lesson soon will bring forth much wisdom.

Two Black Eyes and a Roundabout Kick to the face, please.

I wish I could reach into the internet and  beat the hell out of someone.  I really do.  As a God-fearing Christian, YES. I TOTALLY DO. Some people just need a good punch in the face.  And God knows this, and I think He would be okay with it. 

My sister has just gotten a dose of what Dooce gets most likely everyday, and  at first, I was thinking to myself "Oh, just like Heather Armstrong. " 

Instead of laughing about it and posting remarks making a valid point like Heather, my sister has been hurt by the words  "You are a bad mother" or "You are an idiot". I think she feels threatened enough that she is willing to take her ENTIRE blog down. This is tragic for me. 

1. I have gotten so much closer to my sister through reading her daily blogs. We connect like we haven't connected in the past. 

2. I feel angry that someone has hurt her in a way for her to even consider such an action. 

3. She is a WRITER.  This is her passion and her way of expressing herself through her art.  

I wished I lived closer to my sister.. To hug her, to let her cry on my shoulder, and to look her square in the eye and forcefully tell her to stand up for what is right and blog all she wants. 

Also.. you know, she didn't do anything wrong. AT ALL. But words hurt. Especially when it is about your kids. Maybe I am just more aggressive than her, but I would abuse them right back with a Fist of Words. 

Jerks.

I'm Very Angry.

Dear Internet,

I do not, in the least, believe that I might be able to understand my husband. First, I need to get things straight that we have the most loving of relationships. We get along, we are totally in love with each other, and compliment each other, We Are Very Happy. 

However, (you know that when I throw out the 'however', it means I am probably angered and need to get something off my chest) HOWEVER HOWEVER HOWEVER , my husband drives me beserk. This is the same man who once forgot to tell me MY MOTHER WAS IN THE HOSPITAL. Not until she called and said in a most annoyed tone "HI! I AM JUST FIIIIINE!" I just sort of rolled my eyes to imagine the drama that was going to come out of her mouth. I said "uh.. okay. " And then she said "Did Jacob not tell you I called and told him I was in the hospital??" 

"JAAAAACOOOOOOB!!!!!"

Yeah!! It happened. Are we exchanging internet glances with raised eyebrows at each other?? Because that is how I felt. 

 He did it again.  Today he was going to the hospital early to be sedated and then have an endoscopy in his throat. I was nervous but kept myself busy as today is a very busy day because I cook for my church on Wednesday nights, and all the girls are going to school.  Aaron, our friend, went with him and stayed there to make sure everything went well, since I had to get the girls ready and take them to school, and then start cooking. I called Aaron around 10 to see if I needed to pick him up at the hospital and bring him home to rest a while, because they weren't going to let him leave until he could walk around by himself.  Aaron said they were actually on the way to work even though Jacob was still groggy and could walk around some. He is incredibly stubborn about work. 

Then I call Jacob at 3 (since I haven't heard from him) and ask him how he is feeling and how did it go this morning.  He tells me he went to work only to lay down and rest, and then I pull miniscule bits of information out of him BECAUSE HE CANNOT JUST TELL ME.  I ask him when does he go to the doctor to find out what they found during the endoscopy... and he says so nonchalantly "oh they already found it, oh and they fixed it, too" Finally, I get angry and tell him that people are going to ask me how he is doing and can he please tell me what happened today?? You know, because I am his WIFE.  And I should KNOW these things. I imagine myself sitting there tonight at church, and everyone I asked to pray for Jacob today saying "So, Laura, how did it go today at the hospital??" and I would just look at them blankly and say "uhdunno".  And look like a total dumbass.  I tell Jacob everything. I would have called him and told him if I had a procedure done at the hospital and what it was and everything. So... Am I just the only one to think that is retarded of him?   I am going to wait for my sister Beth or my friend Sara to tell me a movie where someone is totally brilliant and has a magic brain , yet cannot communicate with people on a social level. What? What movie is that?  BECAUSE JACOB SHOULD BE MADE INTO A MOVIE. Totally awesome Dad, and Husband.. yet.  total retard sometimes. 

Jacob's endoscopy revealed that there was a constriction in his throat. They went inside with a balloon to inflate the constriction, and how it is fixed. That is all he would tell me.  :(

Love, 

Laura

Laura, Unhinged.

Dear Internet,

Another Day has passed, and another day has come to that point where I am reflective and all the mindless chatter in my brain becomes loud and obnoxious and I am forced to think about the tasks at hand and myself.   I have been ignoring myself lately.... to the point where doing something seems selfish and wrong. I.. after a nice long talk/cry/whimper session with my sister-in-law,  have come to the realization that I need what is called in the normal world as "breaks". These are things you do for yourself so you won't go crazy. They include simple things such as.... taking a nap... going to a bookstore and mindlessly wandering, going on a date, NOT DOING LAUNDRY.

 I know.. they seem very unreasonable and well, frankly, impossible, but people have reassured me that there is this thing, called "balance", and people do it all the time.  Things have become so blurry to me lately, that I find it difficult to drive or talk or  have real emotions. I have thought that possible I am going through a nervous breakdown of sorts, but my husband has assured me it is what he calls "burn out".  I am learning to laugh and cry and think. There will be a moment, and I will simply burst into tears. Most of the time, I can hold it together, and that is when I am very proud of myself. I think on the outside it looks as if I am very stable and approachable. Most of my friends will glide up to me and start joking with me, meanwhile I am nodding my head and smiling at them, joking back and forth, laughing and giving off the impression that all is fine in my world. They will ask me things like "How is your back?" "How is your family?" "Is everyone well in your family?".   I always respond with a reassuring "We are all mending", or "Fine, thank you!".  

That is not the case. I think lately I have been unraveling.  It is very difficult to think that I need to do something for myself. When I finally do force myself to rest or watch TV or write down my thoughts, I am overwhelmed with guilt. Guilt is pouring over me in waves and I become the Mother that cannot do enough to meet everyones needs. I am trying to learn, and the reason that I am writing it down here, is because I am forced to be reminded of the things I learn.  I know I need to let go, I know I need to relax, I know I cannot be all of the things I wish I could be for everyone. I want to be the Mom is is always there, the wife who is forever loving and kind, the friend with the listening ear and smiling face, the sister with the stories and laughter, the daughter with the heart for her parents.  I am realizing I am putting to much on myself. The pressure becomes unbearable, and then I fall apart. Sometimes the falling apart becomes healing and then growing into a  better person.  So .. that is the season I am in at the moment. I am not the person I am suppose to be. I have become unhinged, and am learning how to be the person that most people know and love to be . . . Laura.
For now, I will give you this..
My new song.

FAIL!!

There was probably a lot of controversy surrounding my marriage to Jacob. First of all, my family had no idea who he was or how absolutely AMAZING a person I chose to marry. But I Knew. He has come to be loved by them, now. Good thing, because he isn't going ANYWHERE. Secondly, there are many other things but I do not feel like typing them out. This morning, our friends Ben and Isaac came by to pick Jacob up for work, and while they were here, They heard what I will call "a little fart" in the marriage.
Jacob was opening the window in our basement because it really is a beautiful day. But he almost knocked over one of my precious pots with seedlings that I have carefully nurtured during the harsh Alabama winter. I said "Jacob if you break that, I will kill you." In which Jacob laughed out loud, because he likes to be harassed by me. HE DOES!! Honest. Then I turned to Ben who was starting to laugh and said "sorry you had to hear that, boys." Ben said "OH, I SEE HOW THIS MARRIAGE WORKS. " Jacob laughed and replied "oh, that was just the pressure valve releasing a little air." And then we all laughed that is was merely a fart in the marriage.

The other day, Anne asked me how old her Daddy was. I told her that Daddy was 34, and this year in May he will be 35. She went on with what she was doing and it wasn't until yesterday that I noticed what she had done. Every little kid draws a picture of their family when they are little. Mommy and Daddy are always enormous, with tall legs. Then the oldest child is next, shorter than Mom and Dad, but always taller than the younger sibling.
Instead of writing out that her Dad is 34, she mistakenly wrote that he is 43. I didn't know I was married to such an old person!! HAHA. He is now 13 years older than me. That is pretty amazing and if my family found out, there would be such gossiping behind my back! Glad they don't know about that "little fart".

Tuesday

I really am this busy. I was going to blog all this stuff I have been saving up for a time, but my life has resembled that of a factory assembly line moving way too fast to accomplish any one task at hand.
Yesterday I was having a bad day. The only good that came out of it was really hearing the good news about my sweet niece getting tests results that were in her favor.
I was going along, plugging away. Even though things seemed to stress me out more as the day was getting older I kept going. That was my clue. I never know when to stop.

I had finally reached the home stretch. I was on my way to pick Jacob up from work, and go home for a nice dinner and relaxing Television. That is when I heard a HOOOOOOOOOOOOONK and then a sudden ::THUD:: . I looked over to see a white van that had come too close to my van and obviously I had my first wreck. I was surprised by not only the wreck but by the sudden action I took in such a mishap. Those that know me would assume that I would either flap my hands around my face uncontrollably, have tears rolling down my face, take on the fetal position, or laugh like a maniac and drive away. Instead, I immediately pulled ahead, got my phone, dialed Jacob's number as I was walking towards to woman behind me, and calmly but pointedly told her how she was clearly in the wrong by pulling out in a place that is not a turn lane, and did she see what that is right there?? NOT a turn lane. Then I told her I would check for damage on my vehicle and come right back. I did all of this before Jacob could say "hello".

Me: "Hey. I'm at the corner of Chisholm and Cox Creek. A lady just hit me. I don't see any damage. I will be late picking you up and will call you back, OKAY?!?!"

Jacob: "whoah, okay.. yeah"

So I go back and tell the visibly shaken woman that there is no damage, and if anything she probably just bumped my mirror. She says she must have hit my tire because she points to all this dark rubber on her white van. She is wiping it away with a baby wipe. It's coming off easily, and for the first time since I stepped out of the car, I relax a little bit. I look around at the rain, the passing cars, how dark it is getting. The other woman is wearing a light grey wraparound knitted jacket. It looks cozy.
Then I look at her window and see the M.O.P.S. sticker on her window. I can only imagine my face, but I say, very slowly.. "are you an Early Arts mom??" She seems even more visibly shaken that I asked her this question, as if Early Arts moms surely aren't making mistakes out here in their super mom vans. She stutters but seems to get out that she is an Early Arts mom and she is head of the MOPS. (Mothers of Pre-Schoolers)
I tell her, as we walk back to my van to check for damage yet again that my children go to Early Arts as well, and open the van door to introduce her to Madeline and Lily. She gets comfortable and tells me that her son Henry is in Lily's class. This is the funny part where I always laugh. My face just froze, and I said "OOHH! HEEENRYY!!! HENRY is the little boy that beats Lily up."

You see, one day Lily came home with a busted chin because HEENRYY pushed her down on the ground. Then a week later, he was swinging a toy around and around in the classroom when Lily just happened to walk by and get smacked in the face by Henry, yet again.

We hugged each other that we were not in a worse accident, and that everything seemed perfect. It was weird that of all the people in Florence driving there that afternoon, we met. The best part was when we were parting and she said "so... Henry hits Lily and I hit you..."

Valentines CD 2009

Every year, I make my sisters a Valentines Cd. It's really for me than for them, mainly because I feel this indescribable urge to make the infamous "mixed tape" or now, in the golden age of technology, the mixed playlist..
This year is a good mix. Maybe it is because I have listened to all of the songs for a year now, or maybe it is because I am going through menopause early. I think I am tearing up to these songs for a different reason. I don't think, I know.
I am a control freak. If things don't go my way, I tend to get angry. I know this and have worked on it, but in the end, I still control my emotions. I have with-held the "healthy cry" for a really long time now. It seems that anything that might tug on an emotion in your heart makes it way out of me in it's dominant push for freedom and expression. I tend to hide the way I feel for most people sake, as to not interfere with their story they want to tell me or the comments they want to make.
Saturday this lady came over to my house, because she wanted to have a play-date with her son and Anne. She really said some things that were quite rude and asked me things that a person meeting another person would NEVER ASK. The things that I replied with and the things going on in my mind were contradictive, at best.

Said: "Well, my birthday is on Feb.26, actually"
Thought : "What the hell? Why do you want to know?"

On the question "are you making lunch?"
Said: "I wasn't planning on making lunch.. uh.. let's see what is in my fridge."
Thought: "Go away Go away Go away you crazy people!!!"

On the question if they could have their son's birthday party at my house. (you read that right)
Said: "Um. Let me ask Jacob"
Thought: "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE AND DON'T COME BACK!"

Then she proceeded to tell me that she could decorate my house for the birthday party.
I thought "WHAPWHAPWHAP" to the face.

Why would a person I barely know ask me something so horrid?? I think she knew she crossed a line, but you never know with crazy people.
Anyway, every time I watch a commercial that is NOT supposed to be a tear jerker, I start to cry a little. But just a little. Just enough for one little tear to start to make it out, then I stop all that whining like a little baby and suck it up.
It all comes down where I have a big blowout and then it starts all over again. Woe is the child that gets in my way.

Getting Frustration Out.

A while ago I called Jacob and he was at lunch with the boys from work. I heard Benstedmans yakking and I told Jacob to give Ben a message. I must have laughed for 20 minutes after hearing timid sweet Jacob say "Hey, Ben. Laura said to shut your big fat mouth".



I am still sort of sore with him not coming over and hanging out with us LIKE HE IS SUPPOSED TO DO. Today, I also found a sweet old picture of Ben on an airplane on Facebook. So I snatched it immediately and am posting it here.







I think I might try to find more old pictures of him for a good Internet laugh or two.
Who's with me?!?!?

note: Laura is going crazy.

My Mother called me today, while I was picking up my 2nd daughter from school.

She sounded worried and told me to call her back as soon as I heard the message.

I called her back and she said "oh, I don't need you anymore".

She only called me... because she needed me to look up a phone number.

That's all??!



Tonight I am going out with Brandice for some much needed down time with another Lady. There are many reasons why I need this so much.. reasons I will not list on here... But I will say that I just read "Brown Bear, Brown Bear.. What do you see?" For the 18th time today.

I live in a scary, nice, and most of the time, quiet neighborhood.

There have been many times in my life when I have tried to tell you something, and you didn't believe me. I don't know why you didn't believe me, because Lord knows I want to be taken seriously. I desperately want be seen as an open, honest and trustworthy person.  One day Brandice was over at my house, and I opened the door, screamed, and yelled that a snake just fell on my head. Brandice did her "siiighh" and then announced that, no, a snake most certainly Did Not just fall on my head.  

Until I showed her the snake. 

I don't know how that little bastard got up there in the door frame, but it did. And it had sinister thoughts at how it would get up the nerve the next time Laura opened the door and jump on her. OKAY, now I get it... you don't believe me because I have a wild imagination, yes I DO! Guilty.   But I am most certainly honest. 

I tried to tell some people not too long ago how my neighbors must have some conspiracy against me. We put the Obama/Biden sign in our yard, and the next thing I know, they were showing off their guns, IN THEIR FRONT YARD.  Maybe it was the Obama-anti-gun-craze that sent thousands of rednecks to buy AK 47 assault rifles at the local pawn shops, or maybe it was just coincidence. One day I came home to find my neighbor across the street showing off his shotgun.  To Me.  The person who could care less about guns. I don't even know what gun-names are. That is how STUPID I am about guns. I know the long ones are shot guns, okay? and the short ones.. they... they are pistols.  or.. handguns.. whatever. 

Then a few days later... Jacob and I were enjoying the morning in our bright, sunny kitchen when we heard a loud BANG. I ran to the window and saw our two neighbors next-door shooting their.. rifle at a woodpecker.    

That's right.

     

 A WOODPECKER.   

With a SHOTGUN.      

BY OUR HOUSE. 

See they have a wood siding house, and the woodpeckers will come and peck holes in the side of their home. Some of the holes are rather large. They actually killed that woodpecker that day. 

A few days later, I looked at the window and saw them again. We live in the CITY LIMITS. We live "downtown".  Lady was walking in the middle of the street looking for that woodpecker just to show his face.  That woodpecker best find somewhere else to peck.    

Please Mr. woodpecker.  

For all of those skeptics.. doubters.. I got something for you.. PROOF. 

Keep your murderous rage in check.

This Christmas has been the most stressful Christmas in  FOREVER. From Thanksgiving, to what will be New Years, we have been sick at my house. First, getting the stomach flu (which no one else got thankyouGod) then Lily getting the croup, Madeline getting an ear infection, and now on the heels of that, Anne is very sick. 

I am not sure what she is suffering from, but she has a temperature over 102 almost every night three nights in a row and her throat hurts. We have been babying her and giving her lots of whole foods and drinks to ease it, but she is still sick. 

This just in.. Lily now has a fever...

Not being able to really go out and buy gifts, I have been making many gifts this year. I crocheted little hats for my nieces, made pillows and bows and cross-stitched. It reminded me of this web-site that I used to visit to laugh for a while whenever I was down.

 It's called Subversive cross-stitch, and it was born from a woman named Julie Jackson. She was trying to quit smoking and her mother bought her a cross-stitch book to keep her mind busy away from how angry she was at the world.  I used to smoke some when I was a teenager, and I have to admit, I understand where she is coming from. Addictions to anything can make you a cranky loser to be around. I think there have been times when I was denied eating salad for a few days and it wasn't a pretty picture of a loving wife and mother. Jacob might say "horrible fire-breathing beast" but he isn't the one writing this, is he?!?

Subversive Cross stitch might say all the things you want to say to people, but don't have to. I have to say, it is much more therapeutic to cross-stitch these thoughts out then to say them. And afterwards, you have a comical dish towel to display when douche-y friends come over. 

I can think of some more things to cross-stitch but I don't really feel like typing them out on here. 

Maybe I'll just start cross-stitching them out......

xoxoxo,

Laura