Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Day One?

I was raised Catholic, and although my going-to-church record isn't the best, I still consider myself Catholic. Yep, I'm one of those Catholics. And if you didn't know, today was the start of Lent.

Catholics, and other Christians for all I know, are asked to do something extra for Lent. Like...going to church every Sunday if you don't normally, volunteering, or resolving to do something that is good for you. Or there is always the more popular option of giving up something. or sports or the elevator or...Coke.

Lots of people give up pop for Lent.

I decided to become one of those people.

This was the response of my co-workers when I told them.

"I think that is a terrible idea."

"Gail, maybe you should start a little smaller."

"I give you until Friday until you cave and have one."

(OK, maybe no one said that out loud, but I know they all were thinking it.)

Such a supportive group, huh??

Today my goal was to not have a single Coke and to go to church.

Let's just say that my morning didn't start out so hot, and I caved and drank a Coke. FAIL.

While I didn't have another one...YAY FOR ME (considering I normally have three or four), I also didn't go to church. FAIL #2.

And Sam's motto for the day is, "Mom, I am not having a very good day, I don't feel so good." (which just happened to also be my motto for the day) FAIL #3.

I honestly believe that most of my problem is psychological...I really don't like depriving myself of something that I want so badly. It kind of makes me cranky.

Tomorrow is another day. Wish me luck. Any advice?

Monday, February 20, 2012

All You Are is MEAN

After reading Mike Spohr's Valentine post last week, I started thinking about high school. (Go ahead, read it, I'll wait.)


I haven't gotten it out of my head for a few reasons, mainly because I have been listening to a certain song on repeat (thanks to Sam) and finding out that a friend of a friend is getting kicked out of his conserative Christian college for liking Lady Gaga...and that he didn't have many friends there because people sterotyped him.

I have pretty much blocked most of middle school out, but high school, unfortunately, is still there. In my brain. Why are kids such assholes?

You see, I switched from a "normal sized" public middle school to a very small Catholic high school. I think my graduating class was 46. I could totally see someone pulling this stunt on me my freshman year. It is actually entirely possible that someone DID and I had the good sense to block that out.

I will never forget walking into orientation freshman year. I knew one girl going to that school, ONE.  I was so excited to make new friends. I was convinced that I was going to be part of the cool gang. (My older sister had been at that high school eight years before me and THANK YOU SIS for setting the standards so high. She was the cheerleader at the very top of the now-illegal collapsing pyramid, she dated the cute basketball players, and as far as I was concerned, she ruled the school. She was INFAMOUS.) So in I walk to freshman orientation, dressed in my coolest tight-rolled jeans and an awesome red shirt with matching red slouchy socks. It was 1992. Let's not talk about my hair.

I tried sizing up the girls, figuring out who the cool ones were, aka my new best friends. I saw the ONE PERSON that I knew and said hi to her. I don't know for sure that I was doomed at that point. I only say this because I do faintly remember the cool girls trying to get me to be a cheerleader, but I was way too self-conscious for that. There was no way I was going to put on that short skirt next to all of those skinny girls. Maybe I signed my sentence right then. Or maybe it was the hair. 

There were 9 of them, this group that I wanted to join. It is really hard to start a new school with a bunch of kids who had been together since kindergarten and try to break into their cliques. Especially when there really were only 2 cliques. I had many classes with them, and would try to talk to them in class or between classes. I would stalk hang around them at the lockers. I said little, because no one really spoke to me. I just WISHED that they could see that I was friend material, that if they just gave me a chance, I could fit in. Like I said, let's not talk about the hair.

Here is the thing. I got to be such an annoyance to these girls, such a...weird little stalker, that they turned mean. Not that they were entirely very nice to begin with, but I really gave them no choice. (Other than the obvious choice of giving me a chance.)  They were just mean. They made fun of me, out loud, when I was in earshot. Hell, they made fun of me to my face. Yet I really didn't get that we would never be friends. 

It is at this point that I wish Taylor Swift had been around. She wrote this song called Mean. It should be an anthem for anyone who was ever picked on. Because let's face it. At 14, I didn't give a shit why these girls were mean to me. They just were. And this is how I felt...

I can see you years from now in a bar, talking over a football game.
With that same big loud opinion, but...nobody's listening.
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things.
Drunk and grumbling on about how I can't sing.
All you are is mean.

All you are is mean. And a liar. And pathetic, and alone in life
and mean. And mean. And mean. And mean.

The best thing that happened to me in that small high school was when I realized at the beginning of sophomore year that 7 of those girls were not returning to our school. The two remaining actually gave me a chance and we wound up being friends through high school and into college.

Sure...I was quirky. Maybe even a little weird. And let's not talk about the hair. Taylor sums it up perfectly though...why you gotta be so mean?

This also happens to be Sam's favorite song. It is the only mainstream song that she knows the words to, (she has Wheels on the Bus, Itsy-Bitsy-Spider, and Old MacDonald down pat). It is so cute to see her bopping in her car seat asking me to "play Someday again." I hope she learns something from it. 

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

It's All Pinterest's Fault

OK, so last night I was laying in bed, and had just watched NCIS (hellooo Tony) and Hoarders. (poor, poor people whose families are destroyed by hoarders) I knew it was getting late. I knew that I should turn off the TV and go to sleep. And so I turned off the TV.

And then I started thinking, "Hey, wow, I can get up and take the dogs for a walk in the morning!" And then I thought, "Hey, wow, I can shower after our walk and be all ready for Charlie's 18 month doctor appointment today! Instead of looking like a haggard new mom, I can look presentable!" I did this for about a half hour before going to sleep, after about a half hour on facebook and Twitter (aka Time Suck). 

Speaking of Time Suck, everyone I know is on pinterest. Haven't heard of it? I almost wish I hadn't. Bloggers I follow have been talking about it for a year, and everyone else in the universe has been jumping on the bandwagon in the past couple of months. I suppose it is fantastic, but I think my invite keeps getting lost in the mail. (Had I joined it when all the other bloggers did, then I wouldn't need an invite, but why would I have been proactive and tried something new??) 

I was thinking off of this...and then my alarm went off. And I pushed snooze. Three times. Or five, whatever.

The thing that scares me about Hoarders is that I can relate to some of those crazy ass people more than I would like to admit. I know the feeling of being overwhelmed, of thinking that it all is just too much to take care of. Too much to do. It will be too hard. (If I was on pinterest, then I could have a board just for organization, and plan how I am going to stay organized so my hoard doesn't overwhelm me. But you know, I am not.)  

I hear these hoarders getting interviewed about some trauma, and then how they just didn't care, and so they stopped cleaning and picking up and then it became overwhelming and all of the sudden they have rat and cockroach infestations and 18 cats. 

I don't have trauma. Not anything that stands out in my mind anyway.

If the day ever comes when my house is covered in cobwebs and there are dangerous stacks of boxes (that I just need to organize) and there is a weird smell coming from it...let's just blame pinterest OK?

Because either I never got invited or I was too busy pinning to clean. Either way...totally not all my fault. OK?


Thursday, February 2, 2012


Yesterday morning Sam came into the shower with me, and after used some of my "jelly" to put in her hair. She then put on a headband and one of my summer sleeveless shirts, and wah-la! She was all ready for her day.