I have been thinking about the subject of this post for quite some time. I have hesitated writing it because it may seem hypocritical or judgmental and that is the last thing I mean it to be. I am also not looking for compliments or reassurances, because lovely as that is, that is not the point of this post. I know I have good qualities, really I do! It is just that sometimes, you need to do some hard thinking and talking to yourself.

Lately, I find that I am at odds with myself. Shocking, I know. I’ve been in a place where I am analyzing everything about my life. When I analyze, I am pretty thorough. I say things to myself that would crumble me if they were uttered by someone else. See what I mean? I’m even analyzing my analyzing. Geesh!

What good is analyzing something if you don’t put those thoughts and revelations into some sort of action?

Action, especially efficient action, is not something that I excel at. Taking action often requires competition, whether with others, or yourself. I do not compete. DO NOT. I have more than a sneaking suspicion that this has something to do with a lot of choices I have made about my life.

When I was in high school, I got ok grades, if graduating with a 3.3 is considered ok, but I never studied. This pattern continued on through college and my career. It’s true that walking away from the life of an opera singer was the right call for me. I wanted a family and the life really sucks, but there was a huge part of me that knew that I could not bear the endless competition that it would require. I think that it is partially why I am inactive from the LDS church. A perpetual feeling of failure.

So? I don’t try.

If you don’t try, you can’t really fail, right? How bad could it hurt if I tried and failed?

Well, I know the answer to that one. It hurts a lot. I think a lot of you would be surprised at how scary and hurtful I find the world, how inadequate I feel. Then again, maybe you wouldn’t because I am in the habit of wearing that inadequacy like a badge of honor. A badge that weighs heavier and heavier on me every day.

Being a mother is so frigging hard. Being a homemaker makes me want to howl, shriek, and put a fork in my eye on a regular basis. My home on a great day is so much more cluttered and disorganized than most people. I am not a natural at mothering and struggle so much with keeping house. I think that my outlook on parenting has been to keep my head down, get through it, do the minimal basics and feel grateful if my kids stay in school and don’t become crack-dealers. Ok, maybe I am exaggerating somewhat, but seriously? There is a lot more I can do.

When I say I have just been in survival mode and doing the basics, I mean it.

I am not the worst mother in the world, but my kids deserve more. There have been periods of my life (Like my service as Parent Organization President) where even though I failed at times, I knew, KNEW in my heart I was giving my all! Even though those failures still hurt and stung, I had an overall feeling of peace because I was doing my true best. I do not have that feeling very often anymore. It is replaced with doubt, inadequacy, hurt feelings and guilt. Because I know I am not trying as I should.

To combat that guilt, I look for ways to feel justification. It’s pretty easy to do. All you have to do is go online and there are tons of people to commiserate with. There is rampant blogging trend going around that most people are familiar with-Taking pride in faults, failures and dropping the ball. Especially in our personal, home and mothering roles. “I’m a slacker!” “I dress like a slob every day!” “Failure, one day at a time!”.

I rejoiced in it!

Yay!!

These people understand!!!

This is someone who knows how hard it all is. They will accept me and be ok with the fact that I suck. They will commiserate about wearing pajama pants 24/7 and laugh about how the kids mixed cereal into pudding cups because there wasn’t any milk in the house. Oh, I have plenty of “Reasons” for perpetual failure. My house is so tiny! I have no storage!! It’s my personality!!! I raced around, reading everything, feeling better and better about my slobbish status quo. Even though I still berated myself about my failures, there was a whole lot of me that felt justified because person A, B and C had the same issues and they weren’t terrible people!

Somwhere along the way, I took having people who understood how hard it was to balance everything and turned it into justification for being ok with being a perpetual slacker.

I’m not sure when it happened but, slowly, ever so slowly, this mindset of mine has really started to bother me. It bothers me that somewhere along the way, I stopped taking pride in moments where I could aspire to be THIS. And started to accept THIS- Someone who celebrates being a slob and who stays like this (And this is key)the majority of the time. (And yes, it is a blatant shallow comparison that is focused on the physical. I wanted to use some photos to break up this frigging long post. Try to look beyond that and view the photos as representational of a much deeper issue. )Do I want to be a slacker? To be inept and helpless? Do I want to be a slob? Do I like the fact that a lot of people around me pat me on the head and give me a lollipop because I’m so adorably inept? And worse, that I have given them every reason to think that? Don’t I deserve to have more internal peace that I am doing the best I can?

Because this? This is not my best.

The light is finally starting to dawn that there is a fine line between being overly concerned and consumed with image and success and being too complacent with mediocrity and failure.

I write this with not one shred of smugness or superiority.

I’m one of the worst offenders out there. I tend to shout my flaws from the rooftops. Look at the name of this blog, for Pete’s sake. I started blogging after I checked myself into a hospital to help deal with the fallout of my son dying. I was incorrectly diagnosed as having bipolar disorder. That title stung and hurt. So, what did I do to deal with it? I told everyone, EVERYONE within ear or eye shot that I was a certifiable loon. “Loralee’s Looney Tunes”. If I called myself a crazy person first, it wouldn’t hurt me so much when other people did it, right?

This post isn’t a testimonial about the flaws and negative way of life I conquered and left behind me, either. I am just at the very first stages. Admitting it’s a problem. I’m writing this because I want to be better. I want to succeed! I want to know that I have times where I fail, and drop the ball and it’s OK because (YET AGAIN) it is the exception rather than the rule. There is nothing wrong with realizing that perfection can’t happen, but there is also nothing wrong with shaking off complacency.

I also know that people have different priorities. What bothers me may not bother you. If you wear pj’s all the time but are rocking at your mothering or job and have that inner peace, then great! I just know in my heart that I am holding myself back from what I want to be. What I could be with some more efficient effort.

So? What does this all mean, exactly?

Well, I’m not totally sure.

I know that there are some things that are bigger than me, things that will probably always get in my way, ways I will fail in huge, ugly ways, but does that mean that I give up in every area? Because that is exactly what I’ve done.

I do know that I want this change in my heart to last.

I want to do everything I can to not burn out with this feeling, go too fast or bite more than I can chew. I want to be steady, deliberate and not give up, which pretty much goes against my entire nature.

I can handle back sliding, but I am sick to death of doing nothing but slide deeper into complacency. I have already made huge strides in so many areas, especially with my kids. Jon and I are doing more teamwork about goals than we every have before. I’m looking at so many things and possibilities and most important, implementing them. Even if it is something oh, so tiny. Which, a lot of the times it is.

I’m hoping I didn’t hurt any feelings or come off as judgmental because I mean it to be encouraging and hopefully a bit inspiring. Hopefully you know me well enough to KNOW that I understand. I understand how sometimes? You just DON’T have it to give. That life circumstances or medical issues (And yes, I consider depression a medical issue) hold you back and down from living the full life you deserve. Unless it helps you through that muck, this post is NOT FOR THOSE PEOPLE.

This post wouldn’t have been for me, even six months ago and there will be times that come up that I probably won’t be able to remotely live up to it. In fact, I’m even going to give the same disclaimer to myself: Loralee! If you have things happen that are unavoidable and horrible (Because they happen. Oh, yes, they do.) and if you cannot deal despite all the trying and Diet Coke in the world and are punishing yourself by re-reading this, you can just close the window and walk away, Missy!

Just writing this “Jerry Maguire Moment” has taken courage, but I don’t look at that alone as success. I’ve said a LOT of things before that have lead absolutely nowhere. Still, stating it means I’m putting myself out there and opening myself up for failure and/or success. I’m competing and that is hard , even if it’s just with myself. Writing it here makes me accountable. Not just to me, but to you all. I really hope I don’t totally suck at it or give up. I don’t want to.

Having that desire? That feels good, my friends.

(**This is a positive post for me. Really, it is. Difficult to write, sure, but still a really good thing. I am not sure that this is clear so I’m clarifying)

I woke up this morning thinking that I had been in a 6-car accident the night before that was all my fault. It took me a few moments to realize that it was just an intensely vivid dream that hadn’t occurred at all. While there was enormous relief in that, I think it is also disturbingly indicative of my state of mind when I also thought, “Crap. NOW what am I going to blog about today?”

Yah. I know. I must be one of the few weirdo’s out there that compose blog entries in their sleep. It was a totally fantabulous entry, though, so I feel the disappointment is justified!

Fortunately, I do have stuff to blog about. Yesterday was Mandi’s 29th birthday. Mandi is one of my bloggity friends that I met for a slumber party, along with Jen, a few weeks ago in Salt Lake. She has been trying to get home to Atlanta since last Thursday, but she’s been stuck here WITHOUT LUGGAGE with her whole family having the stomach flu! Poor thing.

I’m big on birthday’s, and since this is the age she intends to be for the rest of her life, it’s a big birthday for her. So, I drove down to Ogden to meet up with her and Jen to celebrate.

We ate at the Olive Garden and after getting lost in “The Hood” trying to find the movie theater, we saw the movie “No Reservations“. It was a pretty good chick flick, but I drove Mandi crazy because the score had lots of opera. I was a pesterer know-it-all, I’m afraid. “That’s Madame Butterfly!” “La Traviata!” “Gianni Schicchi!” Etc. etc. (Like anyone cares, Loralee!!!!)

One of the best things? The trailers for this film. It totally reconfirmed that I must see THIS movie and I am beyond uber, UBER-excited for this film. Watch the trailer. It looks freaking hilarious. I can’t wait.

Best of ALL? I got to go to TARGET! It saddens me to know that the closet target to me is on Riverdale Rd (Like, an HOUR away). I got the cutest shoes. See those boats on the far left? Yah, those are my hefty size 10’s, baby! I’ve been looking and looking and was close to dropping $100 on this pair, and found these really cute brown sneaker flats for $14! I love the cute bows on them. I heart you, Target. I really, really do!

Happy Birthday, Mandi! I REALLY hope you make your plane today!

Even though it was midnight, after I left Mandi and Jen I met up with another bloggity friend, Rachel, for coffee at the Ihop on 12th. It’s open 24-7, you know. Rachel and I have many similarities. She’s a musical theater major at Weber State and we think a lot alike. She was in rehearsal all day so she was dead tired, too.

The IHOP experience was interesting. There was only one waiter and one cook, so we ended up getting our coffee and toast on the house. I didn’t expect that. I also didn’t expect that the waiter would sit down and talk to us for 30 minutes about Fresno, how he couldn’t drive and interject comments about my love life, so I sorta feel like I earned the coffee anyway.

This month has pretty much been the “Meet my bloggity friends” month. First I met up with Heather. I originally met with in June with Kerfloppy, Manda, and another Sarah. (You remember, the day that I tried on “Ginormous Boob Enhancing Shirts” at the teenybopper store, Forever 21). Heather and her sister-in-law Sarah, were so lovely. They took me away from funerals and ICU units in Phoenix for a lovely dinner and luscious desserts and shopping.

Then there was “Wee Annie” and “Wee-er Peanut”. Annie grew up in the valley that I live in and it turns out that we did a musical together 10 years ago! She was just sixteen and I was 23. It was a musical rendition of “Jane Eyre”. She played Jane’s friend, Helen, who dies (She dies really well, just so you know) and I was a the psycho-alcoholic, Grace Pool. It was really fun meeting her for lunch and her little Autumn is so flippin adorable.

I guess I’ll sign off before I ramble on too long.

I should also consider taking a shower and doing my hair. It’s 2 pm and I still have major bedhead going on

Sigh.

**Edited to include another brilliant creation by “Photoshop Dave” (For those who don’t know, Dave will send me brilliant and hilarious photos he creates to fit my blog entries by using photos in my archives. He has total permission to do so and they are always such a hoot!)

I am a stay at home mom. There is a bit of confusion from time to time because I will write, “When I was at work” or something similar and I will get an email with an inquiry that usually involves a statement like “Wow, I haven’t read in a week. Did you suddenly get a career and I am just totally out of the loop???”.

Alas, it is nothing that grand.

Sporadically (Yet, fairly steadily) I get small and insignificant side jobs. Sometimes I am bored and the job is fun (Working in a bookstore), sometimes it is necessary (Working as office manager for my husband’s company) and sometimes it is because I want to make my own tiny bit of money to save for something important to me like my dream trip to the UK this fall (My current job). With this current job of mine I have been deliberately obtuse on this blog. You’ll see why.

In January, my husband told me that the couple who were contracted to clean his company’s office building weren’t going to continue and he wondered if it would be something that I would be interested in doing? I hadn’t really ever thought of doing something like cleaning offices before, but I really want to go to the UK in the fall. The pay was decent and it was only about 4-6 hours a week and I could work at night. So, I said yes.

Last week I had a startling realization:

I am a janitor.

Dude.

I am not totally sure how I feel about this. On one hand, I have never, ever been ashamed either for myself or on behalf of others for doing decent, honest work. On the other hand, I AM A JANITOR!!!!!!!!!

At least this title is a bit easier to swallow since purchasing my new car. Because truly? The whole going to the janitor job while drive an ‘83 Station Wagon was just a little too hard to take some days. If it is hard for me to swallow, you should see my awkwardness in explaining that I do to people.

People have various reactions to it. There are times I can tell that they are trying their best to keep a casual face and not judge, but it is still goin’ on in the cranium. When that happens I start freaking out in my head, “DUDE, I CAN FEEL THE JUDGEMENT!!!! STOP THINKING THAT I SUCK BECAUSE I SWAB TOILETS 3X A WEEK! Oh, and you have some spinach stuck in your upper front tooth. I am not going to say anything about it to you since you are such a hater. So, pppth!!!”

Even worse than that though, are the sweet, well-meaning people who get that “Look”. When I was telling one of my friends about my job, they got “The Look” and I said if they were about to use the terms “Courageous”, “Admirable” or “Brave” I would have to severely hurt them. I also said if they call me a “Sanitation Engineer” I will be forced to start ripping out their arm hairs one at a time.

Unless I just decide to accept my fate about it all. Maybe I can start a network of janitors and form a faction that is plotting to take over the world like the diabolical janitor with no name from “Scrubs”.Don’t fear, I have zero plans on inundating you all with “Tales from the toilets”. Actually, given my abhorrence of all things “Excrement”, I can’t believe I actually agreed to do this job in the first place. At least I don’t have to deal with bitchy people doing this, which is more fab than I can begin to tell you. Actually, there is pretty much zero people interaction at all. Unless you count Wednesdays.

I hate Wednesdays at work, and let me tell you why in two little words: MARY KAY.

Now, before I get hordes of you pink fans emailing me like the Amway fans that think I am a hater, let me say that Mary Kay can be awesome. I am a total fan of the Timewise system and they have a completely sweet lip mask set that makes my mouth soft and munchable like nothing else. Lots of women have found their niche in the world due to this little company and I admire it.

THAT said…

The office building that I clean is not just any office building. It is a freaking HUGE office building with like 50,000 square feet. They rent out a lot of it to other businesses. A Mary Kay faction rents it out on Wednesday and it almost always involves craploads of perfume, glitter and a boombox blasting “I believe I can fly”.

These big weekly gatherings of women can irritate me like no other. I am just not a fan. I have never been “Into” large groups of women doing anything, really. I tried to join a sorority my freshman year and pretty much snorted and giggled so much during initiation because I thought it was STUPID that I was sorta univited. When I was an active LDS person, Enrichment Night used to make me break out into hives. I am really not sure how I survived being PTA President for three years.

Every Wednesday, I am required to walk into this room full of very nicely groomed women and gather the trash from the cafeteria. I always have to go in in the middle of their meeting and it fills me with apprehension and DREAD. It doesn’t help that the trash has usually been crammed full of 8 billion Styrofoam packing peanuts and pink makeup boxes and so retrieving the trash is rather awkward and long. Usually, this involves about 30 pairs of eyes looking at me and taking in my hair (Usually hurridly thrown into pigtails, a bleach stained t-shirt and Army cargo pants and a sweater. I may or may not have smeared eyeliner at that point as well. I hate it. It probably has to do with the fact that 90% of the time that I am at work, I look like a homeless person. I live in total fear that one day I will be accosted because they will think I would make a great charity case. “Awe. Let’s give the poor, fugly janitor lady a makeover and bring some joy and grooming into her bleak little world!”

I know. I’m being wenchy, but it is still a fear, and I sense that it is not all that unreasonable, either.

Over all, though it has been an ok little job, actually. And frankly as long as it means that come September I am able to fulfill one of the biggest dreams of my life, I can put up with toilets, mop water and even Mary Kay and be pretty damn grateful about it all.