Zooming right into the future...2015, here we come!

Christmas was a big hit, except the dog ate my stocking.  Seriously, my whole stocking, consisting of much dark chocolate.  She walked around for an entire day shaking and falling down.  It was terrifying.  I'm happy to report that by day two, she was back to her old self.  And by that, I mean she barfed chocolate chunks up all over the carpet and then ate the contents of the kitchen trash can.  Or maybe I'm not happy to report that, but I sure am glad that we're not digging a doggy grave amid the hamster graveyard by the garage.  As disgusting as she is, I prefer my dog alive.  And she probably doesn't think I'm a ray of sunshine either, so you have to feel some sort of sorry for her since she can't even tell me I'm annoying or plug her ears when I talk.  She simply puts up with me without complaint. 

Heading into the New Year, I refuse to be shocked by January as I have every year of my life so far.  The thrill of the holidays gets to my head and life seems so happy and exciting.  I'm led to believe that by making resolutions and setting goals, everything will fall right into place beginning January 1st, but then it gets here and it's only dark and cold and depressing.  This year, I will work into my resolutions solitude and dreariness.  Window scrapers, winter weight and such cold that my brain actually shudders when I walk out the door are the reality.  I will get to a point, as I have several times, that I will actually be searching online for jobs and houses in a warmer climate.  Right when I'm at my breaking point and simply can't handle the cold any longer, springtime will show up and I will completely forget about winter for the next six brilliant months.

I do get to start the work year out in training, learning all about fire and when to send which ambulance where, so that's a major plus.  The amount of stuff that I will eventually learn in my job is overwhelming when I step back and look at it all together, so I'm thankful that everything is spread out over months, maybe even years, to give my brain the correct amount of time to soak everything in.  I've yet to endure a single day that I haven't learned something new...usually multiple somethings.  I've also yet to find a day that I'm not happy to go to work.  (But I'm still happier to come home).

Happy New Year to YOU, may you be happy, healthy and unafraid to LIVE!  I mean, come springtime, when life's actually worth living.   In the meantime, drive safely and sleep as much as possible.

I know how to sew? And build? How'd that happen?!

My job wreaked havoc on my mind last night.  By the time I came crashing sideways through the front door this morning, the only thing I could think to say to Kenny was, "My mental is exhausted."  I must have looked just as sorry and helpless as I felt because without a single word, he hugged me for a long time and then asked how many people I talked out of killing themselves last night.  I said, "Well, one, but..." and he cut me off right then and said, "Focus on that.  You saved someone's life."  And I said, "Well, I don't know if I really..." and he said, "YOU DID."  And then Mae piped up and said, "Mom, it's SO cool that you do that.  I bet it feels really good."  And darn it, she's right.  And he's right.  And forget everything else, life is great.

To top it all off, it's Sunday, my sole mutual day off as the kids.  Not wanting to waste my day away sleeping or sulking, I pumped myself full of caffeine, pulled out the Christmas decorations, turned up the music and had a merry and perfect day with little Miss Mae.  The boys went out and left us to our decorating fun.  (They acted like they were being nice in giving us this opportunity without them, but I'm no fool.  I saw the same look of terror in both of their eyes as they looked over the boxes of decorations while slowly backing toward the door and announcing that they needed haircuts [which I have been trying to force them into for the past three weeks]).  Mae and I stood in the window waving them good-bye and as they drove out of sight, we high-fived each other before nose-diving into our wonderful day together.  Our house is now fully prepared to take on the holiday season.

Tomorrow is 'Secret Monday'.  This is something Kenny and I started last week.  Upon hearing that the average parent spends approximately $600 on EACH kid at Christmas, we first laughed at all those silly 'average' parents.  Then, we came to the sad realization that we fall exactly into that category and that's just beyond ridiculous.  We decided to let the kids each choose only one gift.  They don't know it yet, but the remainder of their presents will be the production of our 'Secret Monday' experiments.  We decided that using only things we have around the house/garage, we will make them gifts.  And quite honestly, neither of us were all too excited about this idea.  However, we simply don't have $1200.00 to spare this year and if we did, I can think of so many better things to spend it on than toys that hold our children's attention for two whole hours before they're old news.

I began an internet search on DIY projects and in no time, had concocted a list of great ideas.  We found ourselves surprisingly inspired.  Last Monday, we built Mae a balance beam and I sewed her an apron.  The apron turned out about one thousand times better than I expected, considering my sewing history includes only one sixth grade home economics class.  Tomorrow, combining Kenny's great outdoorsman skills and my new-found sewing ability, we will erect a teepee for Kyler's room.  And if time allows, there will be two freshly painted tire swings under the tree (except I sort of cheated and purchased spray paint because the stuff we had in the garage was frozen and not very colorful).  Next Monday will be game-creation day.  And the Monday after that, we will be slaughtering our own cows and building soddys.  Or maybe I'm jumping the gun a little.  It's just that the first two gifts have turned out so great that I'm feeling a bit unstoppable.

Happy, happy, merry, merry.  Try creativity and maybe you'll surprise yourself, too!

More questions than answers, as usual.

You know that annoying list of unimportant things that everybody plans to accomplish but never does?  Framing and hanging pictures, cleaning out the junk drawer, organizing the cupboards, etc?  I have completed nearly my entire list today, and it's barely past noon.  I even planted flowers, cleaned the whole house, baked, won movie  tickets off of the radio and drank beer.  I've no idea what's gotten into me but it might have something to do with being left home alone all day.  We all know how terribly afraid I am of myself, so all of this do-gooding is really just a distraction, like if I keep myself busy enough, I won't realize that I'm alone with myself.

 Not that it's a new discovery, but I must throw out there exactly how much I love my family.  Yesterday was my second Sunday off in months, and I have been overwhelmingly content at how many family members I've had the luxury of spending time with.  I know how lucky I am.

Work continues to go well.  I mean, mostly.  I will admit that some days are terrible and I wonder if I'm actually doing any good, but then I get a call from somebody that truly needs real help and my natural ability to stay calm kicks in.  I fully attribute this to my mother.  While giving CPR instructions or controlling a hemmorhage, my brain is saying, "FUUUUUCCKKK!!!" but somehow, my voice is saying, "We'll get through this together.  Now is no time to panic."  It's still shocking to me to hang up the phone after sending Starcare to a multiple-vehicle car accident, only to answer the next call and hear somebody angrily complaining that, "Somebody is parked in a no parking zone!"  Oh dear God, NO!  That's TERRIBLE!!  But I'm not allowed to say that.  I'm also not allowed to tell people to get a life.  I am, however, allowed to repeat everything they say in question form in an effort to make them realize that their complaint is unfounded.  Quite often, upon realization of this, they'll simply sigh and say, "Never mind" and hang up the phone.

A new development:  Every time I sneeze, my left eye has a muscle spasm.  Maybe I should be worried, but I think it's hilarious.  I made the mistake of pointing it out to Kenny.  Now, every time I sneeze, I begin to laugh until I catch him looking at me with a very concerned look.  I'm sure it's just a sign that I'm getting older, but he has no sense of humor when it comes to aging.  We are all going to get cancer and have heart attacks soon and he doesn't think it's funny at all.  I'm not sure what's wrong with him.


Another new development: my kids have gotten old.  Why didn't anybody tell me this would happen?  When I had babies, I felt certain that they would always just be babies.  But now, I'll look over at Kyler while playing video games and I'll ask quite honestly, "Who the heck are you?"  And he laughs because he thinks I'm joking, but really, who is this kid?  Where did he come from?  How did he get so tall and smart without me noticing?  I no longer educate my children.  They are constantly teaching me now.  They have a type of wonder instilled in them that I was not born with.  They know so much about so much and I'm just stumbling through this life without inquisition, just happy to learn whatever is offered me and joyful that the sun is out or it's time to put the Christmas tree up or it's my day off work.  And Mae, while still my "difficult" child, completely impresses me with each new day.  She stands up for what she believes, even if it results in a very long, drawn-out argument.  I will give in, just to avoid the hassle, but she never backs down.  She will argue her opinion if it takes all day, all week, all year.  Where did she learn this?  And again, who are these kids?

Is it too early to claim dementia?  Or maybe I had head trauma that caused me to forget the past eight years or so.  Something had to have happened.  I certainly didn't get to the end of 2014 willingly or knowingly.  Sheesh, what year will it be tomorrow?

Know how I know it's cold outside?

I survived my first Halloween at the 911 Center and it wasn't as brutal as I'd mentally prepared myself for.  In fact, I read nineteen chapters in my book.  And here's what else happened:

I sat next to Supervisor for four of the twelve hours I worked.  About an hour in, two cops walked by right as I was inhaling a deep (and very agitated) breath and I said aloud to Supervisor, "They smell like cold.  It must be cold outside."  With his best you're-a-fucking-idiot look, he said, "It smells cold?  You can't smell cold."  I simply replied, "Yes I can.  I just did."  Supervisor asked, "And what does cold smell like?" Before thinking, I replied, "Just...cold."  Then, with a second thought and a good head-nod, I said,  "It smells below freezing."  Supervisor says, "Oh, and you can even smell how cold it is?"  And this look he was giving me was exactly how my fourth grade teacher always looked at me.  You have no idea what you're saying.  Your thinking isn't right.  You are confusing and odd. 

It was at this point that the two cops walked past us again and Supervisor pointed toward one while still looking at me and said, "Well, it can't be that cold out because he's wearing short sleeves."  As if he knew the whole conversation, Cop stopped and said, "Actually, I just took my coat off.  It's like twenty-six degrees outside."  Right.  And this was the end of the conversation.  Or so I thought...

An hour later, I grabbed an ice-cold soda out of the fridge as my break ended and headed back to my desk.  As I sat down, Supervisor cleared his throat in such a way that I knew he was trying to get my attention.  I looked toward him and with an overdose of sarcasm, he asked, "Can you smell how cold your soda is?"  I gave him a very quizzical look and asked, "Why would I do that when I can feel how cold it is?" And this was the real end of the conversation.  For the remainder of our night together, Supervisor would look over at me every so often and slowly shake his head.  His thoughts were so obvious that it was almost like reading a book.  I have given up on you.  There is no hope for you.

This happens to me a lot.  I'm mostly just surprised that it took three whole months before somebody figured me out.  I always feel like a fraud when people talk to me like I'm a normal person who thinks normal thoughts and lives in a normal house and leads a normal life.  If I try to explain to new people that none of this is true, they just laugh and say something like, "There's no such thing as normal!"  And thank goodness for that, I suppose.  But they just don't understand until one day, they suddenly do and they look at me like I've purposely been trying to fool them and I'm just like, "I warned you!"
It is now time to drive my normal car to my normal job where I can smell the cold and read books.  If using my senses makes me look senseless, oh well.  At least I know when to put on a jacket before I step outside.  (P.S, - put your coat on before you go outside; it's cold).

"Saturday."

Today is Wednesday, but it's my Saturday.  I woke up at 6am, helped the kids prepare for school, then dropped them off at the school bus.  As I was driving back down the driveway, I wondered what husband had planned for the day.  I remembered back to last week, when I had four days off in a row and I was so excited about them, only to find out that I was to be Kenny's personal wheelbarrow bitch.  I hauled nearly thirty loads of dirt, followed by twenty loads of rocks.  Knowing that the walkway wasn't yet complete, I prepared myself for the worst.

After an entire pot of coffee, we headed outside.  Fortunately, the walkway was very near completion so all I had to do was haul bricks and bags of sand.  We were done by two o'clock and settled down on the couch for an hour of relaxation before we headed to retrieve the kids from school.

Kenny quickly swiped the remote from my hand and turned the channel to football, but not just any football: re-runs.  And not just any re-runs: re-runs that he's already seen, because sometimes football just isn't boring enough for him on the first go-round.  As is his habit (though I've never figured out why), he immediately began narrating the game to me, pausing it and occasionally turning it on slow-motion for effect.  I displayed my very best yawns and sighs and eventually resorted to nodding off, all of which were completely ignored by him.  At my point of desperation (three minutes in), I dramatically collapsed onto the floor in hopes that he would recognize my need for attention.  This is exactly when the announcer said something about a 'cornerback' and I laughed at the way he said 'quarterback'.  BIG mistake.  Apparently, those are actually two different positions, so this only encouraged Kenny to explain the positions of football to me for the 864th time.  Still on the floor, I threw myself into a series of violent convulsions so loudly that each time I paused, I could hear such things as, "Oh, let me rewind that, you HAVE to see that play again"...and..."Did you see that catch?  DID YOU SEE THAT CATCH?!!!"  I finally gave up and took a short nap right there on the floor.

Later in the day, after we'd picked the kids up from school, I decided to pay Kenny back via reverse psychology.  Here's the thing...I could ask him, "Honey, will you do the dishes?" and the answer would be a stern NO.  Or I could say, "Honey, if you do the dishes, I'll let you watch endless football until your dying day and never complain about it" and the answer would still be NO.  Or I could say, "Do you want to cook or do the dishes?" and the answer would be, "Dishes."  It's the strangest thing and I have no idea how it works, but I have found some sort of loophole in his brain's protocol that allows me to allocate this one chore to him that is almost his least favorite thing to do in the whole world...next to cooking.

So the house is clean, we're all fed and bathed and tomorrow is "Sunday."  While I would like to do Sunday activities, like drive really slowly down country roads with no destination or watch movies or do nothing at all, Kenny thinks we should build a bench to put next to the new walkway.  Maybe if I start convulsing in the middle of Menard's, he'll get the point.  But probably. it will just remind him of today's football and he'll try explaining the difference between cornerback and quarterback to me again.

Where have I been?

I haven't blogged in such a long time and all I can do is put both hands in the air and say, "I dunno why."  I suppose that after the book, I just didn't feel like broadcasting my life for everybody to read.  But now I do.  So I'll fill you in:

My last blog put me at the beginning of my job with Exmark, which will always be a time in my life that I cherish.  I met the best people there.  I had the most fun there.  I learned to be me and anybody who worked there at the same time as I did can agree on one thing:  we laughed every single day.  But as much fun as I was having, this was never meant to be my career.  It was exactly what the first day's paperwork outlined: a temporary job.

The jump from factory worker to emergency medical dispatcher was a pretty big one.  You probably have no idea what being a 911 dispatcher actually entails.  I didn't.  We don't just answer emergency calls.  We answer ALL calls.  1300 of them every day.  If somebody wants to complain, we listen.  If somebody feels scared, we help them.  If somebody needs a phone number, we look it up.  No matter how complex or simple the problem is, we figure out how to solve it.  And we help save lives.  And we keep track of every officer in the city and county.  I can't explain all of the work that this actually entails, but please trust me that it is a very long and grueling process to learn.  I am 1.5 months into a year-long (at least) training program.  I have left work crying once (so far).  They said this will happen multiple times.  There is no doubt in my mind that I'm going to be awesome at this job someday, but for now it's just that: some day.

Reading that back, it sounds terrible.  I still laugh every day.  Just today, a nurse and a cop both laughed at me on separate calls, both sensing that I'm new and have only small clues as to what I'm doing.  The nurse told me, "In a year, you'll know my voice." and the cop told me, "Stick with it, you have a good sense of humor."  And...AND...I get to do ride-alongs with cops.  And yes, it's even more fun than it sounds.  I'm certain that I can't say what happened on my first ride-along, but it was definitely a welcomed break from answering phone calls.

Enough about work, let's talk about Bigley's.  Kenny has settled back into his stay-at-home-Dad role seamlessly.  We both absolutely love it.  He has embarked on a number of home improvement projects while also brushing up on his geometry and spelling skills.  I will not lie...I am NOT good at disciplining my children.  Kenny, on the other hand, holds lifelong respect of all children within minutes of meeting them.  I simply don't know how he does it, but I certainly am more than willing to step aside as our children mutate from sweet little innocents into tweens and, even scarier, teenagers.  Kenny carries the ability to keep them in line while I could very likely swelter into a world of denial and looking the other way, huh?  What?  I know it's very likely that this is my biggest personal downfall but may I introduce to you the glory of marriage: my weaknesses are Kenny's strengths, and vice versa.  He brings the discipline, I bring the fun.  He cooks, I clean.  He loves, I...wait, no, I love, too.  You've gotta double up on the good stuff!

Kyler is in sixth grade.  SIXTH.  GRADE.  He continues to play the trumpet and sail through school with all A's like it's no big deal at all.  He is trading in wrestling for basketball this year and we've been spending much time at the library because there are just so few places that everybody loves being...but who doesn't love the library?

Mae is in fifth grade.  This is only slightly less dramatic than SIXTH.  GRADE.  She has just started playing the saxophone and I can't even believe the awful sounds that she can make with that giant piece of metal.  Did it sound that bad when I played it at her age?  Did my mom ever want me to practice in the garage or maybe even a different state?  Thanks to Kyler and his trumpet, I know that this is just a phase and that in no time, beautiful music will be streaming throughout our house...but these first couple of weeks are nearly enough to make me pop a tent in the back yard.  Mae is also sailing through school work, overly upset with any paper she brings home that doesn't say 100% on it.

In case you're reading this and thinking it looks like a brag blog, here's some real and true stuff that has recently happened:  1) The cat puked all over the clean dishes this morning  2) I forgot that Kenny's putting in a new walkway and removed the stairs from the front porch, thus causing me to walk right off of it this morning in the dark (I'm okay) and  3) there is an opossum stuck in our trash barrel.  Again.  Kenny says to just leave him there until there's enough trash for him to climb out.  I don't care who knows it...I like knowing that I can walk to check the mail without crossing paths with that ugly-looking thing (I'm a terrible person).

And now I'm holding my right hand in the air and solemnly promising to blog more than once every six months.  I mean it.  As always, thanks for reading.  :)

Love the world you're in.

I am happily humbled by the amount of book orders I have received, and furthermore, thank you for all of the compliments.  You guys are nothing short of amazing.  You sure do know how to make a girl feel like it's okay to write my life out.

As for this year: I still haven't figured out what I want to be when I 'grow up'.  I am currently working at a factory, building lawnmowers, and while this started as simply proving a point (Kenny didn't think I could handle factory work), the truth is, I am having more fun than I have ever had at a job.  Sure, I'm working my ass off (literally), but I am singing and dancing and even when I make a mistake, there are plenty of people to laugh with me and say, "I've done that at least twenty times..."

What I'm trying to say is that even though I may not have my life figured out, I am just in love with the whole world.  I love working so hard that my ribs hurt.  I love laughing so hard that my tummy aches.  I especially love the tornado of personalities all in one place.  I don't see people as just people; I see them as colors.  So you might walk into this factory and see red and black, because those are the colors of the lawnmowers.  But if you're me, you see red and black and then every other color bouncing all over the place because of all of the personalities that just cannot be contained.  Everybody has a story and they really do want to be heard if only you take a couple of minutes to get them talking.  I love learning people's lives.  I love that smiles are contagious (I made sixteen people smile today).  I really, really love the explosion of emotion that can be extracted from each and every person if you hit just the right subject.

So...go find emotions.  They're everywhere.

Happy New Year! Buy My Book!

It's probably no secret that 2013 wasn't my favorite year.  In fact, it was my least favorite of all of my years thus far (except for my sister's wedding, that was a whole lot of fun).  It only seemed appropriate that Kyler puked on the carpet, the linoleum, in the toilet and all over his sister on the last day of the year.  I, too, would like to barf all over the past 365 days (well, minus on Mae because she really wasn't pleased by it).

But alas, it's no longer 2013.  With all of the terrible lessons and heartaches of the past year, I'm moving into 2014 filled with goals, happiness, motivation, and a bunch of other words that end with 'ment' and 'ness'.  This is going to be a good year even if I have to force it.  And just to ensure that the year starts out on the right foot, I pre-planned a great event for this very first day of the year:

MY BOOK IS PUBLISHED!  MY BOOK IS PUBLISHED!  MY BOOK IS PUBLISHED!  SEE:

And you can order it right on my page by clicking the PayPal link in the upper right-hand corner.  OR you can send me a check (comment with your email address and I can send you my address).  OR you can order here:

https://www.createspace.com/4576947

I am set to receive the books on January 14th, which seems an eternity away as I will sit here for the next thirteen days worried about grammatical errors, because proofreading the book 643 times maybe wasn't quite enough.  Or what if I wrote something that came out wrong and everybody decides to hate me.  Or what if Kenny finally reads the book and realizes that sometimes I am laughing at him, rather than with him, like I so often promise him I'm doing.  

Putting all of that aside, I am ecstatically, excitedly, eccentrically looking so forward to this year and figuring out how to self-promote myself.  And yes, I have already started in on book number two.  And my very first 'Meet the Author' book signing will be held on Saturday, February 1st at the Wymore Library from 9am - 11am.  I'm pretty darn happy about that.  So without further ado, please order away!  But more importantly, I hope everybody has a fantastic year, with just enough bad to appreciate the good and just enough sad to put your whole self into every hug, smile, conversation and laugh.