~My Chaos~

Daily Writing Prompt

What do I define as my chaos?

*Chaos is getting up and getting the kids ready for school every morning.  Although I put them to bed right at 8pm every night they don’t fall asleep right away and sometimes are still getting up with the “I’m thirsty…I need to go pee” crap well after 10pm.   Other nights they are out in 10 minutes and then usually up way earlier than my alarm.

*Chaos is shoving and yelling getting them all in the car and buckled and ready to go somewhere.  Sometimes this can take longer than it takes to get to the location we are trying to reach.  It’s always a fight over who’s going to sit where, or someones carseat is blocking the other’s seatbelt and they won’t move.


*Chaos is looking at the laundry pile that I decided to put off for a couple of days and now has grown to an unattainable unwinnable unreachable impossible state to get finished.  Like I seriously just see myself buying an incinerator to throw it all into.  The kids will be fine going to school wrapped in cloths and duct tape right???

*Chaos is my children’s rooms that never seem to be clean even 5 minutes after I spend two hours in each one of them organizing and getting rid of junk.  It’s like suddenly they have rediscovered all their toys because they have been organized and put away.

*Chaos is trying to plan an entire summer’s worth of vacations with my husband in one day.  Why you ask?  Well because my husband is like that.  When he gets going on something it’s get it done RIGHT.NOW….all of it.  Why put off utnil tomorrow when you can get 3 months worth of planning done in one day?

*Chaos is trying to get some blogging, exercise, and errands done in the few hours I have to myself in the mornings before I have to pick the girls up from preschool and a whole new battle of chaos begins.

*Chaos is trying to decide what’s for dinner EVERY. DAMN. DAY.  Then forgetting to take the meat out and having to make a trip to the grocery store where I then buy more stuff that wasn’t even on my list.

*Chaos is there’s 2 t-ball games this week and I am on the volunteer sheet for snacks for both games.  And then that thought reminding me that their uniforms are in that pile of clothes waiting for the incinerator.  Unless of course it didn’t make it to the hamper and is under the bed, folded up in a sheet, tucked under a stuffed animal.  Yes really.

*Chaos is at this very moment, that I am trying to get this post finished, my 5 year old wants to argue with me about why she doesn’t get paid for her chores.  WHAT?!?! She’s 5!  I quickly remind her that she lives here and everyone has chores to do.

*Chaos is looking at the list of things that need to get done before the end of the school year.  4 kids and 3 different schools. Ceremonies, graduations, and special days to attend.

*Chaos is listening to my 16 year old and 6 year old fight like an old married couple cats and dogs, and wondering if they will ever obtain a bond with the 10 years there are between them.


*Chaos is my 16 year old wanting to argue with his dad and I about everything because, well, he’s a teenager and knows everything.

*Chaos is having a house that I can’t keep organized because I need about 3 clones of me or more hours in the day.  And before I had kids you could eat off my floor because my house was that clean.  All. The. Time.

So in the midst of all my chaos I find peace.  It might only be moments of guzzling a bottle of wine peace sometimes, but it’s still there.   The chaos reminds me that I am alive, healthy, and blessed to be surrounded by 5 human beings that love me.  That we have a roof over our heads and food in our bellies.  And so for all those blessings…I will gladly accept the chaos.

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The Girl In The Window With No Voice

Daily Writing Prompt

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Lately I have been reading a lot of articles and blog posts about mothers feeling like they are failing at motherhood.  Myself included.

A couple months ago I came across a story about a little girl in the window of a rental house, who some neighbors, that thought no children lived in the house, one day saw the girl peaking out the window.

Sometimes stories stick with you…and you can’t let go of them….this is one of those stories.

The couple who saw the little girl in the window luckily reported it to the police for they had never seen a child and thought that it was only a man, woman, and 2 adult sons that lived in the rental property across the street.

You can read about the rest of the story here.  Please be advised it is a horrible story and one that may stick with you like it has with me.  It would have taken a lot of strength, as the cop who had to enter those premises, not to punch that woman in the face.

The point is, that us mothers that think  we are failing because we had a bad day and yelled at the kids, or we let Netflix babysit for the day so we could get some stuff done.  Even if that stuff getting done meant taking time to ourselves to read a book, blog, exercise, or whatever it may be.

Even if we fed the kids mac and the cheese (it’s what my kids call it) and hot dogs for dinner with slices of cucumbers as a veggie because we just didn’t feel like being in the kitchen for two hours only to hear…”I don’t like this, I want mac and the cheese”.  Even when we take a timeout in the bathroom for 30 minutes and tell the kids we are pooping and to go play.

When we let our kids go to school in mix matched clothes because we don’t feel like fighting at 6:30am about what they are going to wear so we just say fu*k it and let them wear what they want.

Any of those times.

We are still being mothers who love our children.  Who dress our children.  Bathe our children.  Feed our children.  LOVE our children and show that love by hugging them and kissing them and telling them daily that we love them.  Let me assure you …. you aren’t failing and if you think you are then I encourage you to read the story about the little girl in the window.  Because that mother…doesn’t deserve to be called a mother at all.  Yes I am sure she probably had some kind of mental issues but what about the man that lived there or the two grown sons?  Where were their voices?  Why didn’t they speak up?  Were they all just crazy?

There is also a follow up to the story, 9 years later, about the little girl and the courageous family who insisted on adopting her, even knowing the challenges that they would face,  and how they are coping.  You can read that here.

So all you mothers out there that think you aren’t doing it right…if your child is loved…pat yourself on the back…you’re doing it right.

From One Mother To Another,

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Shape Up Or Ship Out

The Daily Post Writing Prompt

“Write a letter to the personality trait you like least, convincing it to shape up or ship out. Be as threatening, theatrical, or thoroughly charming as is necessary to get the job done.”

 

 

Dear Bitch,

Yes I am talking to you.  The bitch, witch, shrew, she-devil, that lurks around in my head daily and often shows herself to anyone in an ears distance that has done anything remotely maddening irritating to awaken her.

For instance when the husband is chewing…in the same way he has chewed for the past 38 years of his life. ¬†Or perhaps when he falls asleep before me and snores to the point that not only can I not get to sleep but it’s the one and only thing I can focus on. ¬†And why does miss bitch need to come out when I get into the truck to find that he still hasn’t put air in the tires from the last time I drove the truck? ¬†Why? ¬†Is this really a reason to get bitchy?

What about when the kids are all getting on each others nerves and then getting on mommy’s nerves and guess who shows up? ¬†Yep…the bitch.

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Or how about when I have just got done scrubbing the girls bathroom only to go in there 20 minutes later to find that it looks like it wasn’t even cleaned.

Same goes for their rooms.

Is this really a reason to become a raging lunatic bitch?

No wait, that was when my daughter decided to take the hair brush out of the bathroom and after telling her to put it back, of course she didn’t, and at 7:30pm, after showers, and time to brush hair and go to bed…instead mommy is tearing the house apart looking for the damn brush…see even thinking about it is making mommy bitchy! ¬†Why? ¬†It’s just a brush.

How about when the teenager doesn’t do his chores right? ¬†Rushes through them half- assed and knows that it’s one of his step mother’s biggest pet peeves and a sure fire way to provoke the resting bitch.

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Almost daily there is something that makes the bitch in me come out and quite honestly I am rather sick of her. ¬†So I have vowed in 2016 not to be so bitchy. ¬†Has it been working? ¬†Well there are good days and there are bad days…but I am learning not to let the bitch take over the entire day, like I used to let her do.

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~My Favorite~

Well I have failed miserably at one of my blogging goals for the year which was to write from the daily post topic a few times a week.  Guess we will shoot for once a month.

This particular topic is titled¬†“My Favorite” ~¬†What‚Äôs the most time you‚Äôve ever spent apart from your favorite person? Tell us about it.

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As much as my husband can rattle my nerves he is still my favorite person.

In 2010 my husband was laid off from his job.  It was when the economy in southern Nevada had taken a serious tank and being a heavy equipment operator, when economy is down, so is construction.

In 2011 he applied for a job in the mining industry and luckily got the job.  The bad part was this was in a town called Ely, NV and it was a 4 hour drive from our home in Southern Nevada.

If you have never been to Ely, Nevada well let me just assure you that you aren’t missing a damn thing because it’s a little piece of nothing in the middle of nowhere. ¬†There’s absolutely nothing, nada, zilch there.Ely Nevada nowhere rural ¬†Well except a McDonalds …those are everywhere. ¬†Therefore, the thought of moving there was not at the top of my priority list. ¬†So instead he commuted home a couple times a month on his days off.

We had a 1 year old, a 2 month old, and about a month later found out we were pregnant with baby #3. ¬†Surprise! ¬†And let’s not forget two older boys who were 10 and 12 at the time.

This meant I was home alone taking care of 5 kids by myself for the majority of 3 years. ¬†It’s equivalent to being a single parent only I didn’t work full time.

It’s true what they say that “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. ¬†I was always happy to see him but knew that the time would be short lived and was always sad after he left. ¬†When my son was 3-years-old, I remember him crying “daddy don’t go bye bye” and standing in the driveway bawling as the little white Jetta we owned drove down the road. ¬†It was then I knew some changes had to be made.

For me it was easy to pop back into my routine after he left but to see my kids missing their daddy…well that was heart wrenching for me.

Luckily some jobs opened up at various other mines and upon being offered a job at several of the ones my husband applied for we decided the best option was where we are now.  It was time to move.mining heavy equipment

Moving has never been easy for me.  I get very attached to my surroundings and friends that I make and the thought of leaving that all behind scared me.  We had to sell a house in an economy that was just barely recovering at the time. Unknown.jpeg And we were pretty insistent that we were going to make the move in one trip using the U-Haul we rented and our truck.  Needless to say I had to make a trip back on my own to pick up the last of a few things and finalize the papers on the house as it actually sold faster than we thought it would.

Now it’s almost 2 years later and even though my husband works a lot and is gone for very long periods of time (16 hours) on the days or nights he does work. ¬†It’s still nice that we all get to see each other everyday…well most days…some days I feel like hitting him with a frying pan he can get on my nerves as well as I am sure I can get on his.

That’s marriage!

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~Ageless Beauty~

 

ageless beauty aging youth getting old

With a new year approaching and the fact that I have taken time to get over my  blogging burnout during the holidays,  I have decided to challenge myself a bit and am going to try and write at leasts 3 posts a week using dailypost.com daily writing prompts.  This will be along with the other ideas I have decided to challenge myself with as well.

Today’s writing prompt is entitled “Young At Heart“.

youth staying young aging getting old time

I am a true believer that looking young, even as you get older, stems from good genes and how you treat your body. ¬† I saw a post on Facebook the other day of a woman who was 103 and didn’t look a day over 70.

My grandmother, in her 90’s, would go to the doctor and the nurse would say that they must have grabbed the wrong chart because she didn’t look a day over 60.

My father is still dating girls my age…and he is 71. ¬†Granted, most of them know he has some money but I don’t see a 71 year old man when I look at him.

And the same goes for my mother. ¬†Even with her gray hair, that she no longer dyes (which she is also lucky to have the perfect gray hair with highlights and low lights in all the right places) I don’t see a woman on the down slope to her 70’s. ¬†Even my toddlers told her she didn’t look old and we all know how brutally honest they can be.

I am also a true believer that you are only as old as you feel. ¬†Granted some days I feel older than others. drinking partying hangovers aging¬†Those are usually days followed by a night of too many cocktails and not enough sleep. ¬†But when I am doing something fun with my kids, working out at the gym, or even bopping around the house getting a ton of stuff done…I still feel the youth in me.

But when I speak of ageless beauty I am talking about who we are on the inside. ¬†What kind of adults have we grown into? ¬†Are we good or evil? ¬†It’s so easy to see all the evil people plastered all over the media that it’s hard to believe that there are still a majority of us that are kind, caring, and helpful to our fellow mankind.

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This quote is so true on so many levels. ¬†People who render hate are usually just miserable themselves. ¬†And you know the old saying…

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It’s not to say that we don’t all experience a bit of misery from time to time but it’s how we choose to distribute it into the atmosphere.

When I am miserable it’s usually taken out on those in my household. ¬†They have also learned that when I am feeling miserable or grouchy to just leave me alone and let me do my own thing.

Ageless beauty can also come in the form of an object. ¬†Like an old painting, building, or even those 20 year old pair of shoes in your closet that you just can’t bring yourself to throw away. ¬†Maybe the memories they hold are just too valuable, even if you haven’t put them on in the last decade.

Or an old pair of jeans that have been worn so many times that holes are starting to appear in places that parts you wouldn’t want others to see¬†¬†will soon be hanging out of…isn’t that what patches are for?

It can be a beautiful landscape that changes through the years but still looks beautiful.

aging beauty ageless growing old staying young at heart

There is so much ageless beauty in so many things…including we as human beings. ¬†It just takes choosing kindness over bitterness. ¬†Happiness over sadness (which I know first hand can be hard to do without ¬†wine¬†vodka medication sometimes).

I am not afraid of growing old…but I am afraid that I will get grumpier in my old age, as I see a pattern in the generations of women before me.

How do you feel about growing old?…how would you define ageless beauty? ¬†Do you have an item that you just can’t let go of?

 

Try to stay beautiful on the inside…always.

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I also wrote a recent piece entitled “Love Who You Are Today” if you would like to read more about how I feel on this subject.

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Daily Post: Third From The Top

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Third From the¬†Top.”

Head to “Blogs I Follow” in the Reader. Scroll down to the third post in the list. Take the third sentence in the post, and work it into your own.

Ironically when I followed the instructions…the blog I landed on “SOMETIMES“…was also blogging about this challenge. ¬†The third sentence…”I hope he won‚Äôt mind”

I wonder if he will notice the few pounds I have shed and how hard I have been working to regain part of my “pre-baby” body. ¬†Does he see that I have been shedding my daily “SAHM” attire, which usually consists of a pair of sweats, with a half dozen holes in them and a shirt that still has spit up stains from nursing my babies so many moons ago? ¬†Instead, I have replaced them with the new pairs of jeans that he insisted I buy for myself and the new tops that I purchased on clearance because the price of the jeans almost gave me a stroke.

Has he noticed that I have been trying harder at keeping the house a bit more tidy and not letting the kids just string everything they own from one end of the house to the other? ¬†I too like a clean house…it calms my OCD restless mind.

Is my cooking improving?  Are all those hours spent watching the Food Network and skimming through Pinterest paying off?  I bet he would notice if I made something with Mayonnaise.  He hates that stuff.  I keep threatening that I am going to rest his ashes in a bulk sized container of it.

Wonder if he notices that my hair is in an imperative state and a patch of new gray hair has appeared, I swear, overnight on the China Express. Or how about the toe nail polish on my feet that is so grown out it looks like a french manicure. ¬†And don’t let me even get started on my fingernails that do nothing but peel and chip since moving to the northern hemisphere of Nevada. ¬†All of this is so ironic since I spent 20+ years working in the beauty industry.

Will he notice another laugh line appearing due to the fact that I have been laughing a lot more lately? ¬†Or maybe because I am going to be another year older in a couple days. ¬†We all know that on our birthday we wake up with some sort of random justification that “old age” is setting in. **wink wink**

Has he noticed that I stopped playing “Farmville2”? ¬†Well not completely stopped but surely quit the slight obsession I had with it.

Occasionally all of these thoughts run through my head about my husband. ¬†I am a real person with real emotions and concerns about how I am perceived in the eyes of my other half. ¬†It’s what makes me a wife. ¬†His wife. ¬†It’s not a question of love, that I know…just a confirmation that I am doing right by him and that in a conversation amongst his friends he would be proud to call me “his wife“.

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