When is that time?

When is it acceptable to stop mourning our loved ones who have left us?

They say time heals all wounds, but I do not believe that to be true. I believe that, as time passes, our day-to-day becomes more manageable. We can see pictures of a loved one who's passed and smile. Fond memories have replaced the hurt and tears and confusion. But how much time does it take to reach that point?

Sometimes we think we have reached the point of being able to move on, but the forces that be turn us around and prove us wrong. The sound of their heart beating. The first picture. The coos, the smiles, and that baby fresh smell come flooding back. Little ones we called our angels have now grown their own wings. The Lord may give and the Lord may take, but that does not mean I understand.

To everything - turn, turn, turn
There is a season - turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

This post is dedicated to my friends who now have angels watching over them.

"How very softly you tiptoed into my world. Almost silently; only a moment you stayed. But what an imprint your footprints have left on our hearts." ~ author unknown

What's inside my dirty blond head

How do you know if you've done enough?

How do you know if you've done too much?

How do you know if you care too much?

These are some of the questions floating around in my little dirty blond head. I know some people wonder if it's even possible to care too much. Sometimes I'd beg to differ.

I care about people I meet, whether it's on- or offline. When they are in a rough place, I want to jump in and do what I can to help. When they are happy, I want to share in their joy.

Most days I am happy with those I surround myself with. No, they may not know all my secrets and all things I have been through in my life, but part of that is just who I am. Many things I choose not to talk about freely. However that doesn't mean if a certain subject were to arise I would run away and hide.

But then there are those days. Those moments where I wonder if I give more than I receive.

People who I thought were close to me? The relationship feels fractured. Yet I still continue to give. If I open my mouth or walk away, I will be seen as ungrateful, selfish. Possibly jealous. For now all I can do is hope that no one gets hurt in the end. This is not a situation I want to pick the pieces up from.

Sometimes when I have things figured out, I get smacked in the face. I don't know which way is up or which way is down. Who's words do I trust? Do I play the naive card? It's most likely the best route to take, but is it the best?

No one tells you how many questions life can hold. And there is no one out there who can give you the right answer. Perhaps I need to change more than just my dirty blond hair? Or perhaps things are sometimes better left untouched.

Holidays suck

If you're looking for a holly jolly holiday post full of rainbows and unicorns, then you're in the wrong spot. The title of this post should have given that away.

So I'm sorry to disappoint if you're full of holiday cheer. Quite frankly, I am not. What started my Scrooginess were the people who put their Christmas crap out the day after Halloween. Really?! What the hell?! I don't care if the weather is nice. Eat your damn turkeys first people. Part of the "fun" of putting those stupid lights out is doing it in the cold!

Although I will point out that driving around my neighborhood can make you chuckle. A few blocks from me there's a house with a big ass inflatable snowman. Not only was I laughing my ass off at it because it was almost 80 degrees outside, but across the street is a house with an inflatable turkey. Right on, people! Turkeys first!

Thanksgiving dinner

Enough of my mindless gobble over the damn turkeys. Let's move onto another holiday. This holiday would be Hanukkah. Right here and now I would like to ask every single fucking retailer out there...

Where the hell is your Hanukkah stuff?!?

I'm not Jewish myself, but I do take notice of the lack of Hanukkah stuff. Every. Single. Year!

This year is a little different. A little more stressful. I have family coming in. This coming weekend to be exact. My cousin, her husband, and their new baby. I am beyond excited to see them and finally meet their sweetheart, but I am pulling my hair out over the whole event. That is not the way I want to get rid of the grey that's creeping in.

You see, my cousin is in fact Jewish. I thought it would be a good idea to get her and the baby something for Hanukkah while they were here. It's easier that way. I am too cheap to pay for shipping anyway. And the people at our post office? Assholes!

I have a feeling they do not need another menorah. Plates or napkin rings? Not very personal gifts. And that's about all I have to choose from.

Since I'm all crafty, I thought maybe I could make something. I think there were about as many patterns in my search results as there are gift choices in the stores. Thanks a lot Google!

So where exactly do Jewish people shop for Hanukkah? If I can't figure this out within the next 48 hours, it looks like generic winter themed ornaments are what they'll get.

Made for TV

I realize that sometimes I make mountains out of mole hills, but this time it really is a mountain!

Once a week for the past month, maybe 2, there has been a mountain of trash a few doors up from me.

It's not really that extreme,
but some weeks it doesn't seem too far off.

It started with the new neighbors 2 months ago. I still can't figure out why someone would have so much shit to throw away after moving in. Isn't is typical to throw stuff out before you pack it?

Or maybe that's just me.

New neighbors' pile o' shit seems to have subsided, but I think they triggered something with the family who lives between us. Just like me, this family lives in half a duplex. There's is a 3 bedroom I do believe, but it's still not much bigger than our dinky 2 bedroom.

Every week there are numerous bags of trash. And I don't mean the Febreze scented, extra stretchy bags you have in your kitchen that give you wind-blown hair when you open them. I'm talking about heavy duty, giant contractor bags. FYI ~ the contractor bags are 40 gallons. You could fit a small child in that sucker. Actually a lot of small children!

Add to the pile of bags some boxes, miscellaneous furniture, and/or car parts. I walk back into my house and wonder "Where the fuck is all that shit coming from?!"

As of today, I am convinced that they belong here.

Oh, that reminds me. I have my own bags o' crap that need taken to the curb. It was birthday weekend around here. Maybe my pile o' crap can give theirs a run for their money!

Um, you do realize that's not actually my house?
Do you think I would post it if it really was?

Mountains and Mole Hills

Something happened last week that really pissed me off. I have been known to make mountains out of mole hills in the past. Maybe that's what happened here. Or maybe I have every right to feel this way.

The situation~ Friday night. My girl's birthday. I'm making one of her favorite meals.

I love this recipe! Even though it's not all that hard to make, I think I can safely say that I have mastered it. But not mastered enough to figure out the math to cut the recipe in half.

To try and remedy the problem of having too much food for 3 people, I made a phone call. I called someone and asked if she would care to join us for dinner. Her response was that she couldn't get a hold of her people, therefor she didn't know what she was doing. She would run her errands, and if she didn't receive any word from her people, she would join us.

From my point of view, I felt like a last resort. Kind of like if you invite a bunch of people to a party and no one shows. One person feels bad and comes just to make you feel better. You welcome them, even though you know it's out of sympathy.

Anyway, I returned to making my meal. My noodles were boiling and the buffalo sauce was simmering. The last thing I wanted to do was burn something.

As I'm spooning the noodle saucy goodness into bowls, my phone rings. It's my person calling me back. She had talked to her boyfriend and they were going out.

I was pissed! But I chose not to argue because I had food ready to serve and kids who had to clean up so they could eat their food. I already felt like I was being pulled in six different directions. One more thing to deal with and I was going to blow!

Making a mountain out of a mole hill

Yet again, I feel cast aside by this person because of her boyfriend. I extended the invite. If she felt that there was a chance she would make other plans that night, all she had to say was she couldn't join us. It was a last minute invite and I would have understood.

If you were me, how would you feel?

How would you have reacted?

For the moment, I am leaving out exactly who this person is. Who she is may change things, but since this is not the first time she has blown me off for him, who she is may not matter.

I know that I can make mountains out of mole hills. If you think I am over-reacting, please say so. I won't be offended. I have my big girl panties on - I can take it!

I need it and I can't have it

Why is it that you never truly want something until you can't have it. Even better than want, you need it! Right now!

This weekend is going to be one of those weekends.

What I want, what I truly need, won't even be in this state. My lover will be 467.77 miles away.

There will be no strutting around in a gorgeous pair of sleek, knee-high black boots. The kind that have just enough of a heel to make your ass look nothing short of perfect. No parading around in that cute little tee. Music? Movies? Won't need them. Ice cream and hot fudge? I may get them, even if I'm not in the mood for them.

4 days. That's what I have to wait before I can get what I want. I am not a patient person! When I want something, I want it now. I am really not happy that I can't travel 467.77 miles to get what I need. In fact I'm downright pissed off about it!

The husband is in Chicago and won't return until Monday night. This is going to be a long, long weekend!

You do realize I'm talking about shopping, right?


A Mom Sexy Conundrum

Lately I've been at a crossroads.

I used to have a love-hate relationship with my hair. More times than not, it was hate. When I got it cut a few weeks, I feel back in love with my hair. Straight, curly? It didn't matter. I loved either way. An added bonus of my haircut was the color. It seemed that cutting off a few inches really brought out the blond highlights the sun gave me over the summer.

I loved my hair.

Blonds have more fun

But the more I played with my hair, the more I saw things I didn't love. And that would be the color gray. I ran straight to the box of hair color I have stashed in the bathroom, but then I stopped. I really loved the blond and wanted to hold onto it as long as I could. And the few strands of gray? They were part of who I am.

To accept who I am,
flaws and all,
is how to embrace my inner Mom Sexy.

I am no longer hanging out by the pool, nor am I outside as much as I was during the summer. This cold weather just sucks. Because of those facts, I've noticed the blond tint in my hair is fading. The mousy, boring brown is slowly making a come back.

Brown is boring! As much as I would love to continue to embrace my Mom Sexy, gray hair and all, I am beginning to cave to the voice. The voice coming from my bathroom. The voice whispering to remind me that red heads are fun.

As much as I would love to be happy with who I am and how I look, I really think this brown has to go.

Watch out red, here I come!

Oh, my eyes! Costume fail!

Yesterday started off like most days for me. I took the husband to work, took the midgets to school, and returned home. Like most mornings, I turn on the computer - check my email, read a few blogs, and get on Facebook.

I'm on Facebook, scrolling through my news feed when suddenly...

My eyes! Oh god, my eyes!!

I have never wanted to un-see something so bad in my life.

Let me back up a bit so I can explain something. Say what you will, but I have never been one to watch porn. I honestly have no desire to see another man's goods. My own husband? That's another story. That's what I married him for! Well, that and he's awesome. Other men? They can keep their stuff to themselves, thank you very much!

How is this related to Facebook, you ask? At this point I'm sure you have an idea, but I'll tell you anyway.

There's this guy. We went to school together, from the elementary level up. We were kind of friends when we were young, but as high school came around, we took different paths. I have no idea why he friend requested me on Facebook, but whatever. I accepted. Apparently I have a knack for accepting people when I shouldn't.

In the past, his profile picture has been him laying up in a hospital bed after a night of partying too much. He was nothing short of fucked up in this picture. Personally, I don't think that is something a 30+ year old should be proud of, but whatever.

Anyway, back to scrolling through my news feed. I get maybe halfway down the page when I see that this guy and a few other people have changed their profile pictures. The picture of this guy was small, so dumbass me felt the need to click on it. He was decked out in Halloween gear and I like to see other people's costumes.

Do you remember all the Brett Favre accusations? Not the flirting and similar douchbaggery, but the pictures he was accused of sending out. Yep, that was this guy's costume! From the waist up? A Vikings shirt. From the waist down? Nothing but a pair of panty hose! They were nude in color, and basically, so was he!

Oh god, my eyes!!!!

I've said it before and I'll say it again - the human race as a whole is intelligent, individuals? Not so much!

I need an intervention

RehabI had this whole entire post in my head for yesterday. I was finally ready to come clean. But then my addiction had to rear it's ugly head. Again!

I do believe the first step is to actually admit that you have a problem. And I do.

I was doing so well. Then the time came for the bake sale.

Damn it all to hell!

The Girl Scouts hold a bake sale for election day. Since I like to torture myself am involved in that organization, I not only had to sit and woman the table for 2 excruciatingly long hours, but I had to bake stuff for the stupid thing!

As if sitting there doing everything but poking my out with a spoon wasn't bad enough, I was surrounded by a bunch of 8 year old girls! Do you know what happens when one is surrounded by a gaggle of girls? It's not pretty. Nor is it quiet!

Enough bitching and back to my addiction.

I think it's time for me to come clean.

I am an addict.

My vice...

Peanut butter addiction

Peanut butter crackers, Reese's, Giardelli peanut butter filled squares (thank you, MIL!), PB&J, peanut butter and goldfish crackers...

I could go on and on, but I'll spare you. Truth be told, this is a serious problem. I need an intervention people!

Not only did I just take the midgets trick-or treating. And holy shit, did we get a ton of junk! But I had to sit at a table surrounded by baked goods. Some of which had peanut butter as an ingredient!


If anyone knows the number to Peanut Butter Anonymous, please send it my way! But could you do me a favor and wait until Monday? Mother Nature, aka Queen Bitch, has decided to throw that nasty 4 letter "s" word into the forecast this coming weekend. And I don't mean shit!

At least I hope not. If shit falls from the sky, I think it's safe to say we're all screwed!