This was supposed to be Sunday’s post and my fridge and pasta post was supposed to go up Monday. I wrote them at the same time and must have transposed the publish dates.

Boo.

Oh, well. This way I can talk a bit about Easter, so I’ll just do two posts on Sunday. It never killed anyone, right?

Right.

How is your Easter going? Good? Are you having food and fun with family? Awesome.

How is my Easter?

Weeeelllll…

Easter suckasuckaSUCKS.

It just does so far.

It sucks a duck. Or a goose. Or quite possibly even a turkey.

Due to some highly emotional things that occurred last night, I totally made some Easter boo-boos and dropped the ball.

I had the kid’s baskets (full of candies they like, and these books, which I was excited about getting for them.) hidden on the lower shelf of our mobile island. You can see it next to the fridge in the post below. I was up crying a lot of the night and so I forgot to move all the Easter stuff to the table before I curled up in the fetal position in my bed around daybreak. (Can we please just ignore this part in all ways, shapes, and forms? Thanks. I appreciate it. It’s only applicable because there was a major reason I forgot to actually put the baskets out on the table.)

Jon and I don’t get a lot of Easter stuff. I splurge on REALLY high quality chocolate bunnies that I look forward to all year, some Russell Stover’s marshmallow chocolate eggs for me and some peanut butter eggs for Jon.

That’s it.

I stacked them on top of the island and because they are big, we but the boys “Carrot baseball bats” next to them.

My kids came running in to our bedroom and I was curled into a ball in the fetal position (yup. Still crying.) and I told them I forgot to put the stuff out and that it was in the island.

They were thrilled and ate it all up.

Problem?

They ate up the wrong pile.

So, I had no Easter candy. Not a big deal, it’s just a small example of the suck of the day that I feel like talking about. We aren’t even having Easter dinner with anyone. Jon and I thought the other was making arrangements and I didn’t get any fixings to make an Easter dinner.

So, anyway….The day just blows thus far.

Now that this cheeriness is all done, let’s move on to awarding the Peep of the Week.

The award goes to….

ADAM from the blog, Shadowy Figures.

Holy cow, this former lurker is comment gold!! Try clicking over to his blog and seeing the post about selling a saltine that looks like the state of Wyoming or how his dog, Floyd, should be cast as Tzeitel in an upcoming production of Fiddler on the Roof. It’s a crack up. He’s hilarious, yo.

Adam immediately caught my eye with his first-ever comment on my blog when he was commenting about my kitty, Wilbur and her whorish ways.

“Wow. Hey Loralee. Long time lurker, first time commenter. I was coming here to comment on yesterday’s post, which I may still do. But I just had to say, holy jeez! Our cats must be doppelgangers. Mine looks EXACTLY like yours.

And another freakish coincidence, HER name is Otis! (Thankfully, she is not the trollop yours seems to be. I chalk that up to my raising her Catholic. The whole “fear of God” stuff we lay on the kiddies (see what I did there? kiddies kitties. ).

Just wanted to say. Great blog. I’m working my way through the early archives, even though you’ve expressly wished that we not. Nyah! (You’d have to look very hard to see it, but I’m sticking my tongue out at you right now.)”

Then today he cracked me up with his commentary about my fridge.

“You just couldn’t resist bragging about your incredible fridge, eh? Now how am I going to go on, knowing that my fridge could be measuring out for my water bottle?

And I stand there eyeballing it, like an IDIOT!”

Thanks for the smile, Adam. It was appreciated.

If you want to give a commenter a shout on your blog, feel free to post a link to it below:

I need to cut it out with the posts that sound like birds chirping, huh?

One of my newest blog crushes is Jennifer from “Playgroups are no place for children”. (She also gets to live by Casey which makes me green with envy as Casey is one awesome bloggity date.)

Jennifer’s post for today is about being a cheapskate and her love of purchasing generic items. It started my brain spiraling in a million different directions so I thought I might as well dump it here since I am now going through the aisles of my grocery store in my head and thinking about what I will and will not spend money on.

I am not a careless shop-a-holic. I think and think and think before actually plunking money down on something with two exceptions:

I will totally splurge on eating out.

I do it with ease.

I hem and haw about spending money on clothes but I can drop a wad on a great meal without batting an eye.

I have always thought that was sad, but if you only knew the memories and pure love of food that I have. (Well, I did weigh 280 at one point, so maybe it isn’t all that difficult to grasp after all.)

Splurge number two?

The grocery store.

There are still times that I am quite enchanted with being an adult. Sure, most of the “I am grown up and on my own!” rosiness has worn off but there are still times when I am in the grocery store that I think “I can buy whatever I want with the money that I have??!!!! SQUEE!!!!”

So, I am not often overly careful at the store. I don’t clip coupons, but I buy on sale if I can and I am always aware of good meat sales. If I can save I will, but not at the expense of getting what I want.

That said? I genuinely like a lot of generic products.

GENERICS I WUV:

Medication: I ALWAYS buy generic if I can. This is the area that I see the price difference the very most. The savings are huge and the product is great.

Maxi Pads: (Warning! Possible TMI ahead!) They work fine for me. I am not a Mount Vesuvius period girl, so it’s all good. I do buy name brand tampons, though.

Spray Bleach and cleaning products in general: Clorox charges twice as much for an identical product. I’ll stick with my $1 bottle, thanks. Same with glass cleaner and toilet bowl cleaner. (Exception: Dollar store cleaners are hideous. Just so you know. They do not count)

Hair care and styling products: I wouldn’t have put this on the list before, but since my awesome sister-in-law, Nooncy bought me the “Don’t go to the make up counter without me” and “Don’t buy hair products without me” books, I am just FINE buying drugstore shampoo, conditioner and products.

You wouldn’t believe how much easier it is to style my hair how I want because I have EVERYTHING. Waxes, sprays, gels, putty’s, leave in conditioners, creams, EVERYTHING. And it is all thanks to Garnier. Before I had these books I would plunk down 35.00 for one bottle of shine enhancer. Now I have one I LIKE BETTER and it cost me $3.00!

So? I can have tons of products now for the same price and I love it.

Cereal: This is a split category. There are some generic cereals that are acceptable like knock offs of Honey Nut Cheerios, Frosted Mini-Wheats, and Sugar Puffs.

Shoes: I LOVE good shoes. But I also find cute shoes at PayLess, too.

Bras: After finding the Hanes All Over comfort Bra, I don’t know if I’ll go back to VS except for special occasions. I heart them.

Salsa: I love WalMart’s Black Bean Salsa. I prefer it over all others, actually.

Milk: I prefer the cheaper store brand, actually.

Eggs: Same thing.

Pull ups: They worked totally fine for us and were much cheaper.

Dishwasher Soap: I have to buy the better stuff that contains jet dry now, because my dishwasher kinda sucks, but my parents have a rockin’ dishwasher and generic is fine.

Skin Care: I HEART WalMart’s Equate brand of skin care. They knock off some very good products by Olay, Nuetragena, ect. and they work as well has the original for SO much less. Next to medication, this is the biggest money saver in generics. According to Fussy, Equate also has a generic Eucerine version that is only $3 instead of $15 that I MUST check out.

Teeth Whitening Strips: By Eqaute. Yup. They work swell and it’s $15 vs $30.

Body Wash: They work just fine, although I do love the Olay uber moisturizing one and Bath and Body Works makes my heart sing.

Meat: This is a biggie for me. I have to buy chicken, beef, etc. from the butcher. I only buy Tyson as a last resort.

THINGS I WILL NOT SKIMP ON:

Ice cream: Since my gastric bypass, Ice Cream makes me feel sick, but I love it. SO, the rare times I indulge it had better be GOOD.

Soda: ONLY Diet Coke for me, thanks. Generic soda sucks.

Cereal: Lucky Charms, Rice Krispies and Golden Grahams all have to be name brand.

Laundry: I have to have Bounce fabric sheets. As for laundry detergent, Gain and Tide with Bleach, oh, how I Love Thee! Jonathan did pick up a box of Arm and Hammer when they were out of the size we like to buy and I have to say that I am actually liking it. It’s kind of strong, but hello? You are talking to someone who could snort the entire laundry aisle of the supermarket and die happy.

Peaches: I will never buy anything but Dole Plastic Bottled Peaches again. We are having a torrid affair, and I don’t see it dying down soon. Fruit in general, I have to buy name brand or it is icky.

Ketchup and Mustard: The generics usually suck.

Diapers: I have to have pampers for my babies. The others gave them rashes.

Spaghetti Sauce: UG. I can’t even think about it.

Bread: I have to have Grandma Sycamore’s. Dude, if Granny ever kicks the bucket I don’t know what I’ll do.

String Cheese: I cannot tolerate generic string cheese. It has to be the one with the illustration of the string cheese guy with wacky string cheese hair (I totally can’t remember the name and can’t find it online, so it is what it is.)

Lunch Meat: This.is.huge.for.me. Is there anything more disgusting than “Pressed Meat”? EWE.

I eat a turkey sandwich practically every day of my life for lunch and so I have to have good lunch meat. I would really prefer to get it at the deli counter, but for some reason my husband is on the opposite end of the scale in this argument. We have agreed to compromise on Oscar Meyer Roasted Turkey Breast and call it good.

I’m sure that there are many more things, but I’ll leave it at this for now.

SO? You? Do you have issues with generics? Do you love them with the power of a thousand burning suns?

I need to talk today, people. I need to talk to keep myself from marching over to the school and unleashing my inner “Mamma Bear” behemoth wrath on a prepubescent snot who is bullying my son.

The situation with James is not getting better. Oh, it is improved in the classroom because the teachers are doing their best to keep an eye out, but in lunch, and gym and the halls, the shoving and taunting James is receiving is escalating. So, I am taking it up a level and I involved school administration today. We’ll see how it goes.

I don’t want to go into the details of James situation because I want to respect as much of his privacy as possible. However, bullying, teasing and ruthlessness in kids is something I feel very strongly about. I thought I would discuss bullying from my point-of-view. Get some of the rage out of my system if you will.

Did you know that there are four main “Types” of bullies? I didn’t.

Physical Bullies
Physical bullies are action oriented. This type of behavior includes hitting, kicking, taking, and damaging either the victim or the victim’s personal property. As the bullies get older their attacks usually become more aggressive and violent.

Verbal Bullies
Verbal bullies use words. This can include name-calling,insulting, constant teasing, and making racist or unwanted, nasty comments. This type of bullying is the easiest to inflict on other people and can be the most hurtful because there are no visible scars.

Relational Bullies
These bullies try to convince other people to exclude or reject a certain person or group and cut the victims off from their social group. This type of bullying occurs when kids (most often girls) exclude people from their social groups. The effect of this bullying is the most harsh due to the rejection of a person or group.

Reactive Victims
Reactive victims can be both a bully and/or a victim. They are seen as targets for other bullies. They often taunt bullies, though, and can be bullies themselves. Most of their encounters are physical, they are impulsive, and react quickly to intentional or unintentional encounters. In most cases, reactive victims start as victims and become bullies as they try to retaliate. They also like to provoke other bullies into action.

The only one of these that I never experienced long term (Or at all) is the Reactive Victim. I never bullied anyone. I did pick on my twin sister quite a bit, so I have nothing to get on a high horse about. The rest of them I am very familiar with.

My first experience with being picked on was in preschool/daycare. Can you believe that? PRESCHOOL. I remember it like it was yesterday. Her name was Robyn and she had red hair. She was the daughter of one of the owners of the school so she never, ever got in any trouble for anything that she did to me. I have to think that her mom didn’t really understand the level of what I was going through. Bullies are very clever to do their business out of the eye of adults.

She made me give her my daily snack, she threw cars and legos at my head, pulled my hair, peed on my naptime blanket and the worst of all? She told all the other kids that if they were friends with me they wouldn’t be her friend any more. Because her mom was a teacher she had access to the candy closet and doled out snacks and treats liberally to her friends. One day she gave Kylie C. an extra piece of bubble gum because she stole the red crayon away from me and gave it to her.

Her plan worked. I had no friends. I don’t blame the other kids. She was quite a dynamic creature and hey? It was free candy! At 4 years old, there wasn’t even a contest.

Between Robyn and a teacher who was fond of ripping through my hair with a fine-tooth comb after nap time, I hated going to day care. So much, that I often hid my mom’s keys so that she wouldn’t have a way to get me there. My most joyful memories of Young World were the times that I escaped from there. Once, my older brother Rhett came in to pick me up right after nap time. I was so happy to see him because I knew that meant that “Miss S” wouldn’t make fun of me in front of everyone because I didn’t know which shoe went on which foot and she wouldn’t comb my hair! Plus, I didn’t have to have class with Robyn any more that day! YAY!

Keep in mind all of this was IN PRESCHOOL.

It boggles my mind.

Elementary school was a really lonely time. It didn’t help that I skipped third grade and ended up in a grade where I didn’t know anyone. I got my share of teasing, but I did have a couple of really good friends, though, so it was ok. Lonely sometimes, but ok.

It all got pretty bad around the 6th grade. My best friend, Susie moved away the year before and I was really alone. I also think that part of it was that I had a sister who had a lot of issues. We know now that she has a lot of problems with her brain that caused some very erratic and very embarrassing behavior in elementary school. I was also roughly the size I am now when I was 12. Not a good combination for popularity, huh? Every single day of my school career was a misery to me. Even later on, when I managed to find a couple of good friends and found a niche of my own in choir and drama in high school, it still sucked pretty hard.

I realize that everyone has periods of that growing up, but mine was ongoing. Most days I was mocked, laughed at, put down or criticized constantly about my clothes, my hair, my weight, my sister, my shoe size, you name it. I was even told that my Trapper Keeper was “The icky kind”.

Once, in the sixth grade, I invited a girl to have a slumber party at my house. Her name was Tiffany G. and I had been in school with her sister Radonna before I skipped. She was pretty, popular and nice. I mean, she was really nice. Know why? Because she actually came to my sleepover. Apparently, she turned down an invitation to a “Popular” boy/girl party to come. I found out because our doorbell rang at 9:45 pm and a whole gaggle of preppy, polo-shirted snobs came pouring into my parent’s entryway, led by the head “It”girl, Sharina Hadley. (Yup. Full name usage. Frankly, I don’t give a damn if Google pulls it up, people. She sucked.)

At first, I was surprised and happy. More people came to my party! Yay! Tiffany kept her eyes downcast while Sharina checked her frosted bangs in my parents oval walnut-framed mirror and interrogated Tiffany on whether or not she was having a good time. As she kept talking and looking scornfully at my house, me, my sister and Tiffany, I began to “Get it”. She did not come out of friendship or good will. She and her friends looked up my parents address and went to considerable lengths to make a mockery of me, my parents house, and Tiffany for daring to hang out with me. Once her message was made clear, she turned, checked her Swatch, and left.

Tiffany was crushed. She never hung out with me again.

Not that I blame her. I felt really bad for her that night, and I still do to this day.

While the behavior of Sharina and her ilk is horrible, it happens. Maybe if it had been an isolated event or two in my life it would be different, I wouldn’t have called it “Bullying” but things like this? They happened all the time. Every single day of my life. That kind of assault? It’s bullying. And it is damaging like you can’t believe.

I never told my parents about it. I really never told them about anything. They had a lot going on themselves, and I was a kid who kept to myself a lot of the time. I was pretty embarrassed that someone thought that of me and didn’t want them to know. It was too humiliating.

I should have. If I had been able to talk to them about Sharina or her dozen clones, they might have helped talk me through things or worked with me. If I had talked to them or another adult I may have been more prepared for what I was going to face in Jr. High. Although, I don’t know if anyone is prepared for THAT.

I’m going to KILL you, bitch!”

Hearing those words almost every day for 6 months as a 7th-grader isn’t fun. When it’s coming out of the mouth of a hell-raising 9th grader that looked like a heavy, female version of Ozzy Osbourn and Alice Cooper’s love child it gets even scarier.

We’ll call her, “Janice”. I’m not giving her a pseudonym for her protection. Nah. I’m calling her that because if I could remember her name I would have no problem shouting it from the rooftops. Besides, it would be fun to Google her name and see what offender list she landed on.

I have no idea what I did to attract the attention of this girl. I have no idea why she decided to make my life a living hell, but she did. One day in the cafeteria, Miss Future Inmate came up to the condiments table where I was squeezing ketchup onto my questionable looking hamburger, slammed her tray into mine, laughed as it skidded on to the floor and said, “I. am. going. to. f*cking. kill. you.”

I had no reason to doubt her. The girl smoked Marlboro Reds at 14-years-old for Pete’s sake! She was very big and very menacing and had a very bad, pitch-black dye job and self-done pseudo-tattoo that said “Hell’s bitch” on her forearm. I really wish I was exaggerating or kidding here, but I’m not.

You always wonder what kind of person you will be when confronted with fear. Are you a fight or flight type? I think it will come as no shock that I am a “Flight” type of girl. After that day, my life became about survival in the hallways. I went out of my way to not attract her attention. If I saw her and could escape, I would. It didn’t always work and if there were no teachers around, I got shoved into lockers, cussed at and shaken down for my lunch money. I stopped eating lunch and developed the VERY bad habit of having 2 ice cream sandwiches and a Cherry Coke for lunch instead. I put on 40 lbs my 7th grade year. It was the beginning my my significant weight problem.

I never told a single person what was happening to me.

No one noticed. She always hit me when I was alone, which was pretty often back then. She scared the living shit out of me.

She was a bully.

Luckily, school ended and I never saw her again. I wish I could say that the rest of the teasing went away in jr. high, but it didn’t. Do you know the multitude of ways you can twist the name Loralee to be insulting? My personal favorite was “LardAssLee”. Yup. It was my misfortune that “Stand by Me” came out during that time and I got the “Lard Ass” “BoombababoombabaBOOM” sound from about a dozen different people whenever I would walk down the hallway. That sort of thing still went on day after day.

High school was a bit tamer, there was still name calling but mainly? It was just isolation, snubbing, etc. I had learned by then to just keep my head down. By that time I found singing, drama and a few true friends (Ironically, my best friend in elementary school moved back and was again my best bud. She saved me.) so between all that the teasing was easier to take. It still didn’t stop someone from changing my plus-sized choir dress with the smallest girl in choir at my senior concert because I had a solo. It must have been really grand for them to see my dress made up of yards and yards of material drowning this petite girl while everyone went on and on about how “HUGE” the owner of the dress must be and my burning face when I had to get it back.

Still…It could have been worse. All the years and years of it really took their toll on me though. I have effects from it to this day. I wish I had handled it differently and talked to someone earlier than I did.

So what are we supposed to do as parents to combat all of this? The advice for parents on both side of the bullying issue (Victim or bully) is to communicate, communicate, communicate. Even though I am completely upset about the situation, I am hoping that the kid who is bullying James can get some help working through whatever is going on with him.

I am putting down some points from various articles that I have been reading.

If your child is being a bully

• If you have a child that is bullying others you have to ask them why and really listen. You need to get all the facts. Do not assume your child is innocent just because they are good kids for you. On the other hand, don’t immediately assume they have done something horrible (Admittedly, I fear this would be my first reaction.) In other words: Don’t jump to any conclusions either way until you get all the facts. BE OPEN TO GETTING TO THE TRUTH.
• Try to relate to them, share experiences of either being a bully or a victim of bullying and your views on what it did to you.
• It may be possible that your child resulted to picking others because they were the target of a bully and trying to deflect attention away from themselves. It could be that there are big problems with low self esteem. If they say that the picked on child was “Bothering” them or they just “Don’t like them”, that is a surface answer that needs to go deeper.
• Suck it up and analyze your behavior and the atmosphere of your home. How is conflict handled at home? Is it common in your household to act out aggressively and its something your kids are picking up? What are your kids exposed to through the media? I’m not saying to torture yourself to death, but you need to ask the questions. I do it all the time when there are problems with the kids and while I may not be perfect, I try to fix it.
• Also, it may not be you. Kids that bully can come from good homes and caring parents that are horrified by their child’s behavior. Everyone I have met and talked with about James sings the praises of his bully’s parents. I don’t doubt it, but the behavior is coming from somewhere. Hopefully, they will be able to get to the bottom of it.
• Talk to their teachers, get to know their classmates, meet with the principal. Try to nurture other hobbies and activites that will give them a more secure sense of self.
• Your child needs to apologize and own up to their behavior and that will be easier with your support. You need to be your child’s ally. You are above all things, their parent and it is up to you to be on their side in this and help them work through this. THAT DOES NOT MEAN CONDONING THE BULLYING. You need to make sure that a child who is bullying has an appropriate consequence. Don’t be afraid of appropriate punishment. What it means being their best ally in solving the root of the problem.

If your child is the one being bullied. (I’ve read a lot of different things about this and this article is one I like in particular)

• Take it seriously. Bullying is hard to talk about. Chances are high if your kid is vocalizing it, it is a bigger deal than it may sound.
• It may be difficult for them to talk about. Look at me. I never told my parents. I did talk to a religous instructor in the 9th grade and it really helped.
• If you notice a change in your child’s behavior, investigate. Talk to teachers, volunteer in their classes. If your child is having a hard time communicating with you, ask them to please talk to some adult they trust about what is going on with them.
• Never suggest that this is your child’s “Fault”. You SHOULD look at things that you can help your child with as far as habits and behavior that might annoy and attract a bully situation. I know that this is something we have been working on.
• Never suggest physical retaliative bullying. It’s tempting, but a very bad idea. However, In MY opinion? They have EVERY RIGHT to defend themselves. Someone comes at them swinging? They have every right to defend themselves.
• Talk to the administration and teachers.
• Monitor the situation.
• Don’t confront the bullies parents. It’s not a good idea. The school needs to handle that.
• Relate to your child. Sometimes its hard to see heroic mom and dad as ever having a bully pick on them. My son couldn’t imagine me without friends and was totally surprised that I had been picked on. It made him feel better and see that there is life after the cesspool of jr. high.

This helped to write. I feel a lot better. It may help you understand why I am so upset about what is going on with James. When I found out that he has been picked on since the 1st grade and how bad he feels about it, it made me heartsick. I am just glad that he is TALKING to me about it. That I can help him. I realize that not every kid goes through what I did and I am so glad about that. I think that writing my experiences like this from time to time help me because there is still a lot of things from that time that I haven’t really dealt with. I hope that if this is happening to your kids that you have success in dealing with it effectively.

There have been some setbacks in all of this life-improvement I’ve been doing.

There have been things that have really discouraged me. I missed my credit card payment and was assessed a late fee. I mean, seriously. I have like, two things I am in charge of financially and I have screwed up on it two months in a row. That makes me feel pretty inept. I have just had so much going on, I forgot.

I have also had a major laundry SNAFU that caused me angst. Pretty much everything that could go wrong with this load? DID.

I had been doing laundry all day and juggling that with well, everything else. I was just burned out from the day. The kids were difficult and we had just struggled through some really complicated homework for them both. I asked them to gather their laundry and I admit that I just wanted to be DONE and wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t dissolve the detergent in water like I normally do, I didn’t even check anything. I just threw the clothes in, scooped in detergent, pushed start and slammed the lid shut.

Problems with that?

For one, I forgot that I had just washed a load on “Small” and “Delicate” settings. And…I didn’t check the stuff the kids gave me other than it was all a dark load.

So…Not only do I have a half-damp, half-dry load of laundry with clumped on, hardened detergent, but I discovered that one of the pillowcases the kids gave me was COVERED IN CAT POO. And not a small amount of cat poo, either.

Yippee.

THAT clean up process was just no fun. No, not at all.

BUT!

I have had some really good things that have been happening, too! I feel so much more pulled together and in control. My kids and husband are happier and I am having the satisfaction of knowing that I am working hard and any “Down” or “Fun time” that I have is well earned. It makes it sweeter, somehow.

For the last few weeks I have been trying to make a daily goal of trying to tackle one area of my house and eradicate the clutter in it. The surfaces of my house are clutter magnets, especially because it’s so small and there isn’t a lot of storage. Also, because I am a cluttery, cluttery person. So far, I’ve gotten the two worst areas (My bedroom and the living room) under control. Well, actually the WORST area is my computer desk and office, but I am just not up for it right now.So…I’m happy with that.

I have also been able to keep up with dishes, laundry and general picking up. This “Clean as you go” has always been a toughie for me. I am used to being fairly lazy and then BAM!!! I clean, and clean and clean to a microscopic, scrub with bleach and a toothbrush level. To the point of exhausted burn out that takes quite a while to recover from.

I love cleaning sessions like that. It’s very therapeutic. I clean when I am totally pissed off and it makes me feel better.

The kids have had some hiccups in their schooling, but due to sticktoitivness, we’re back on track. I still love volunteering in the classroom, and I’ve been teaching them how to cook. While we usually eat together, I have been putting more effort into the meals that I serve.

It’s been good.

Family time has been good.

I wish that Jonathan and I had more time together. Alone, couple time. Jon has been working a ton of hours and I’ve been on my own till pretty late a lot of nights. It’s been ok. I have been in hermit mode so I don’t mind staying at home a lot more. Besides, it isn’t like I haven’t seen people. I’m going to lunch with a group of Cache Valley Bloggers, so that should be fun. I am also planning on getting together with my homies sometime this weekend.

Although…Maybe I should be more concerned with my mental state after allowing “Homie” to be anywhere in my vernacular.

My next task is to find a really good shampoo and conditioner. I have thin, frizzy, slightly wavy (As in, a totally unattractive way) hair. I know that this sounds like a lame thing to worry over, but there are SO many products out there. I have a site that I love that reviews makeup, skin care, etc. (Check my sideblog) but she states that she doesn’t narrow down hair products too much because there are so many good ones.  I was considering Bliss Supershine Shampoo, but I’m not sure.

Any suggestions?

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 read a post that really made me reflect on my siblings today. The title grabbed me: “Letter to my dead sister”. I don’t recall ever visiting this site before and I can’t even tell you how I found this blog, exactly. I just know that it made an impact.Forgive me if I don’t get this right, but the author had an older sister was pretty much a destructive mess. They did not have a relationship for years, but the author was so affected by the actions of her sister that she strove to be the opposite of her sibling in every way possible. Her sister passed away and during this post the author analyzes the fallout of their relationship and how it has been a huge part of many of her choices in life.

99% of the time when you ask me how many sisters I have, I will tell you that I have three sisters: Melly, Linny, and my twin (Who shall remain nameless for Googling purposes).

I answer without hesitation or thought.

THREE.

Except.

For all practical purposes, I actually have four sisters.

My father was married for a very short time when he was young. He and his first wife had a daughter, my half-sister. His ex-wife requested that her second husband be allowed to adopt her and so, wanting to do what was best, my father agreed. My half-sister has two other half-siblings that she considers her brother and sister.

Although my father’s divorce and the custody situation was apparently bitter at the time, my father and his ex are very good friends now and have been for years and years. She is a very good family friend, in fact. I see her quite often and admire, respect, and like her very much. My mother and siblings do as well. I remember when I was little the shock I felt when I found out that they had been married at one point because I couldn’t see her as anything other than my dad’s antiquing pal.

I don’t remember the point that I realized that their daughter was my sister. It was probably when she got married. I was 6 or 7 and she was married in the Bel Aire hotel. I believe that she only wanted my father there and none of us went to the wedding. Which was fine with me. I got to go to the beach and Disneyland for the first time. The scenario could happen tomorrow and I still wouldn’t be bothered by it. Know why? Because I am totally neutral about her.

I have no feelings one way or the other about her.

My sister.

Someone who has DNA in common with me.

I just.don’t.think.about.her.

At all.

How can this be? When I watch documentaries or news programs on families reunited after separation, adoption or tragedy in a positive way, my eyes mist up and I often get a lump in my throat. I am often a bit shocked by those who were adopted or not in the family any longer when they state that they have no desire to reunite their birth families…They HAVE a family. How could you not yearn to know your blood relatives? Wouldn’t that leave a void? How could it not?

The irony that I have a blood relative out there that I have zero relationship with and know very little about usually doesn’t occur to me at these moments, which is more telling than almost anything else I could say to you.

I have only met her twice in my life that I can remember. Once was just for a moment when I was little. The last time when I was 12 and my father and I spent the afternoon helping her mom get an antique shop ready to open. It was an ok afternoon, only memorable because she was there and it was a solitary event.

I know more about most of you than I do about her.

I know she is in her fifties. I know that she is a lawyer in California, and is married to a man whose family owns a bunch of supermarkets. I know the first names of her husband and daughter (My niece) and that my niece is in college and is a decent ballet dancer who had the best of everything growing up as an only child in an affluent household. I know that she was pretty when she was younger, wouldn’t let her daughter eat sugar because she didn’t want her to “Struggle with her weight like she did” and that my father thinks that I tend to look like her.

That’s about it.

I don’t know her likes and dislikes, her habits, friends. I have no idea what month or year she was born in or even her last name.

And this doesn’t bother me. At all. In any way.

In some ways I feel bad about it. Actually, it is more accurate to say that I feel like I SHOULD feel bad about this. I just don’t. I don’t feel either way about it. Maybe that is why reading that post triggered my thought pattern. Here is one example of a sister who had a non-existent relationship with the other, but the impact of her existence was so great that the author thought about her (Even if it was to avoid emulating her) at almost every decisive moment of her life. I am the opposite. I never think about her.

Don’t get me wrong; I hope that she is happy and I wish her well. I have no envy of her life, I have no jealousy of her existence. I think she feels the same way about us as we do about her. If she ever wanted to have a relationship with any of us, I am sure that we would all be willing. But she doesn’t. I highly doubt that she ever will, and that is totally fine. None of us are craving her in our lives, either.

None of us feel a void, hole or incompleteness about it.

I am grateful for my brothers and sisters. They have helped me more than I can say. Adding another to the mix couldn’t possibly improve the situation that I have been blessed with.

She has her siblings and I have mine.

I’m good with that.

I have been a bit vague and short the last few entries. I just haven’t been myself. Let me explain a little. Christopher is still sick and vomiting, so he stayed home again today. He has a pretty nasty virus. Poor kid. He only threw up once today, so I’m hopeful that we are in the home stretch.

It goes beyond this never-ending illness, though.

You know the old saying, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”? That has been what I have been struggling with. Why I have stayed silent. I had a conversation that was as bad and hurtful as they come.

Actually? It was the worst conversation that I have ever had.

That is all I’m going to say about it because I don’t trust myself to not lash back or go into detail that would only hurt innocents in the end. As it is, I waited until I felt better to post. I will be fine, it’s just taking time to shake off the ick of it all.

Besides, I really care about you guys and this place and wanted to say, “Howdy” to y’all. I feel “Off” when I don’t write and post.

So, please forgive me if I haven’t been vocal on your blogs. I’m just trying to shake it off and focus on my family and preparing for this trip.

I leave Monday night.

My.kids.are.still.vomiting.

6 days and they are STILL vomiting on themselves, their beds, me, and just about every other surface in my house EXCEPT THE TOILET.

Apparently, their vomit likes my brand-new shoes as much as I do.

Jon is sick, too.

It sucks.

The end.