Ahhh…That’s better!

Well, Mr. Baby Boy must’ve known how desperate I was to get through my mess today, because he slept for three and a half hours.  🙂  I finished my sorting!  Hooray!!

The results:

Clean---er

Clean---er

Clean---er

Clean---er

 Okay…down deep in the bottom of one of those baskets I found the following items.

Ah, the memories...

Care to guess?  (Hint:  I thought I donated those to a worthy cause a LONG time ago.)

Ivoryhut wins!  Those are the phones we used to text vote for Taylor Hicks—Season 5.  Now that’s love, baby!!!  😉

And while we’re on the subject of Taylor Hicks, what’s with the lightning flash, barely there clip of him on this season’s opening???  Could they BE any ruder?  *PSHAW*  Irks me everytime.

An Overwhelming Task

Well, for someone who loves organization, I’m a terrible organizer.  I tend to let things pile up until the task becomes so overwhelming that I don’t know where to begin, so things just pile up more.  Paperwork is my nemesis.  Receipts, school papers, junkmail…it’s incredible how these things pile up into mountains. 

I’ve attempted over the years to organize.  I hate having piles all over the house, so I bought a basket to capture all the various paperwork.  Well, then the basket looked like this.

So I bought another set of baskets, this time to sort each child’s paperwork as it came in, figuring I would be able to keep up with it then.  Well, now that set of baskets looks like this.

So here I am on this rainy, cold day:

with not only full baskets, but piles that look like this.

You will not see me again today…while the nap happens, the decluttering must happen.  I’ve made a pot of coffee, I have my Lord of the Rings Trilogy cued up, and I’m tackling my nemesis. 

*taking*a*deep*breath*

I will win.

Getting Out the Grill

Although it’s sleeting here today (and freezing rain, and snowing now and then,) the weatherman is forecasting 64 degrees tomorrow!  I’m ready!  I’m getting out the grill! 

 I’ve spent two days thinking about what that first grilled meal is going to be, so I’ll be prepared when that warmth strikes.  I’ve got my shorts all picked out, and my sandals dusted off.  Cleaning up the iced tea maker, and lemons are on my grocery list.  I’m thinking marinated london broil sounds tasty, along with some pocket potatoes, roasted with garlic and rosemary…maybe a little sprinkling of dill.  Mmmmm….I can smell it already!  Maybe I’ll even whip up a fresh berry salad for the occasion!  Oooo—with fresh whipped cream on top!  Yeah, that’s what I’ll do!

AND we’ll walk to the local ice cream shop for dessert!  My girls begged me to take them on opening day (Saturday) but I couldn’t bring myself to get bundled up in 28 degree weather to sit at a picnic table and eat an ice cream cone.  Call me crazy.

Gonna get an extra super tall vanilla softy, dipped in chocolate and sprinkles…..Mmmmm!  And the babe’s gonna LOVE his first taste of summery yum!  I can hardly wait!

Eckhart Tolle says live for the Now. 

I’ll live for the Now tomorrow.  😉

Flying

So, we’re flying to Disneyworld next month, and once again I’m forced to face my fear of flying.  And yes, we’re flying Southwest, and scary news stories are SO NOT what I need right now!  And did you ever notice that just when you’re about to board a plane, there is a plane crash story everywhere you turn? 

I don’t know if it’s the loss of control, or my lack of trust, or just the plain old fact that it’s unnatural for humans to be miles in the air…but I nearly lose my rational self at take-off.  And of course, THEN I’m afraid, not only of flying, but of losing my nut and embarrassing myself and my family.  And, to top it all off, I refuse medication because I have three children and refuse to be half zonked on a flight. 

Now, lest you think I’m an absolute loony toon, I have never come unglued on a flight.  I’ve become pale with fear, but never unzipped. 

So, I’ve begun to work on visualizing myself sitting in the seat, the excitement of getting there overcoming the nervousness about GETTING there.  I’m visualizing calm, breathing, relaxation…this is good….until my brain clicks and I visualize myself screaming my guts out as the plane lifts off the ground.  Not good. 

Okay, so this leads then to the ultimate, self-induced guilt trip, as I hear that little “God” voice in my head saying, “Aha!  You don’t trust me.”  And I say back, “Of course I do!” while hanging my head in shame that, in reality, maybe I don’t.  “What about all those others who crashed even though they trusted You?”  asks my sinning self.  And back in my ear comes, “You mustn’t trust that I will save you, but that even if you crash you are saved.” 

I’ll work on that .

So, I called the cops on my darling husband last night….

He was away, and was supposed to be staying overnight.  As I always do when he’s away, I battened down the house….Alarms set?  Check.  Doors chained?  Check.  Phone on the bedstand?  Check.  Knife under my pillow?  Check.  (Okay, so I don’t sleep with a knife under my pillow, although I’m such a chicken, the thought has crossed my mind.) 

So I slept soundly, until suddenly around 4:00 am, I woke up to the shrill screaming of the alarm.  It took me to the count of three to register what I was hearing, and of course my irrational mind conjured up the image of a snarling, smelly maniac entering my home to do my family harm.  (The rational me may have realized that my darling husband had come home early to surprise me, but rational and half asleep do not go together.)  So, yes, I dialed 9-1-1 as I tripped downstairs, armed with nothing but my phone (dangit!  I should’ve slept with that knife!)   The officer answered before I even hit the bottom of the stairs, and could hear my alarm.  He also heard my screech of relief when I saw my husband fumbling with the door chain from the OUTside of the door!  After half a dozen questions to assure himself that I was indeed not being held at gunpoint by a snarling maniac, the officer wished me a good evening and assured me that, “That’s what we’re here for, Ma’am.”  I was slightly embarrassed, but relief was my top priority. 

My husband just shook his head.   “Why didn’t you call me and tell me you were coming home?!!!” I asked.  His response, “I didn’t want to wake you.”