You May be Right...I May be Crazy

I can’t believe that I am going to write what I am going to write next.

Give me a drumroll please, and then hold onto your hat!


I am quickly heading toward 50 and I am looking forward to it.

No, you don’t need to go clean your glasses. I really am looking forward to turning 50 in 2 years.

And no, I haven’t lost my mind. Well, I’m sure there are some folks who might disagree, but for other reasons.

Let me explain. To be honest, I have been dreading turning 50 for a few years now. I think Mr. McDread began twining his creepy fingers into my brain around the time I turned 45 and I remembered how much I had hated turning 40. I was downright depressed about it. So depressed in fact that my friend who planned a surprise party for me told me after the party that she had nearly cancelled it because she thought that I would hate it, and hate her for planning such a thing. I don’t know why I hated it so much at the time, but I have done a lot of pondering about that for the past couple of weeks.

I have never been very sure of myself or of my capabilities and talents. I look back on my teen years with complete and utter horror and wouldn’t take money to relive them. College was better. My 20s were even better, yet I was still so unsure of myself in so many ways. I was trying to figure out how to be a good wife while trying to make my way in the working world. I was struggling to become a mom. I had 4 miscarriages in my 20’s. I had moved 10 hours away from my family and was trying to fit into Tony’s family and make them my own. So while they were good years, they were still filled with so much insecurity.

The best decade of my life so far was hands down my 30s. When I was in my 30s, I was a stay at home mom raising the little beings who called me mom and loving every minute of it. Well, maybe not every single minute, especially those that involved trips to the ER and weeks being cooped up in the house in the winter with sick kids. I didn’t really love potty training either. But I loved everything else. I loved snuggling up on the couch with my children on my lap and reading to them. I loved crawling around on the floor playing cars and Barbies and doing floor puzzles. I loved it when Justin would crawl into bed and curl his sweet little boy self next to me every morning to watch Scooby Doo. I loved coloring in coloring books and teaching them to write their names and playing game after game of Candyland and going to the park and the zoo and for walks around the neighborhood pushing a stroller. I loved tucking them in at night and saying “sweet dreams” as they wrapped their arms around my neck and said “I love you mommy!” I loved it all. I don’t remember ever wishing away their childhood. I was never one to say “God, I can’t wait until my kids are grown!” I was never a mom who wanted to work in order to have “adult interaction.” I truly enjoyed being a stay at home mom and was so thankful every day that I was able to be one. In my 30’s, I think I was the most content I have ever been. We didn’t have many financial worries back then. Life was oh so sweet and good. Not just good. Very good.

Then, I turned 40. My kids were older. The year I turned 40, I started working at Share. Saying I had a hard time adjusting to being a working mom is an understatement. Even though I was only working part time, after being a stay at home mom for 13 years, it was a challenging adjustment. Those first few years, I spent so much time feeling like Gumby, stretched in too many different directions. On the one hand, I loved my job, and on the other, I felt as if I wasn’t a good enough mother any more. There were times when playing with the kids and taking them on outings felt more of a burden than the fun it once had been. Where once I would stop whatever I was doing and play or read if one of the kids asked, I now found myself saying way too often, “I can’t, I need to get the laundry/vacuuming/dusting/etc done.” And I feel so guilty about that. My house isn’t as neat and tidy and clean as I like it to be, and projects fall by the wayside. For the first time in my life, I started buying instant mashed potatoes and canned spaghetti sauce. I know it sounds silly, but for a long time, it really bothered me. It still does at times.

I know I have accomplished a great deal while I’ve been in my 40’s. I’ve done so many different things I never would have imagined I would (or could) do. Some of the people I have met through my job have encouraged, supported and cared about me in ways that no one ever has before. Because of them, I have more confidence in myself than I ever have, yet in other ways, I feel like I did as the insecure teenager I was in high school.

Which leads me to the real point of this post…why I am looking forward to turning 50 and the person who inspired me to turn my thinking around.

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a spectacularly bad day. The reasons why don’t matter, but there were many. I was at work, struggling to get through the day without having a meltdown. I was working downstairs rather than in my own office because I was doing a bunch of different things for my boss, and rather than continually running up and down the steps, I just took my laptop down there to work. It is getting close to Angel Ball time, so now and then, gals from the committee stop in. I love those days…they were some of the first people I met through Share back when I was still a volunteer, and it is always a bright spot in our day when they drop by. In the beginning, I was very intimidated by them; I felt as if they were way out of my league…pretty much all of them are doctor’s wives, they dress to the 9’s, have large beautiful homes, throw fabulous parties, sent their children to the top private schools in St. Louis…you get the picture. However, I quickly learned that they are just like anyone else, they just have more money. None of them have ever treated me as “beneath” them as I imagined they would when I first met them.

Anyway, on this particular day, Francois stopped in. Francois is French, is jus the sweetest person and we all love her. And she loves us and Share just as much. She is a cute and spunky, and I have often hoped that I am that cute and full of life as I get older.

I don’t think she was expecting to have the conversation we had on that day. She sat down at the table with Cathi and I and innocently asked me how I was, how are the kids, etc. Like I already said, it was a bad bad bad day. I don’t even remember exactly how I answered that question, but Cathi ended up stepping in and told her I was having some “challenges” in my life. What an understatement that was! I did end up telling Francois that it was just a rough time, I was having a hard time dealing with some hard issues with my kids while also trying to deal with my own issues…which led to a conversation about menopausal/hormonal issues, how much it sucks, and how much I am so ready to be done with this phase of my life, but that I dread heading into my 50’s. She really seemed to listen, and to care, and then, she told me how awesome her life has been in her 50’s. Better than ever, she said. She said that in her 50’s, she has been more settled, more sure of herself, and her life has been great. She doesn’t care what people think of her anymore, and she is truly happy and content for maybe the first time in her life.

While lately, I have been feeling as my life is going downhill fast, hearing her say that not only made my day, but it made me feel hopeful for the first time in a long time that things will get better. It made me think that maybe the best years of my life aren’t behind me as I have often been thinking, but rather ahead of me. Francois really inspired me that day…inspired me to not only do some reflecting on my life so far, but she also has inspired me to look forward to the next phase. I’ve talked to her several times since then, and each time I do, the first thing she asks is, “How are you? Are things better?” Her care and concern come through loud and clear and means so much to me. I have thought so often over the past couple of weeks how I wish I had many people like her in my life.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a birthday party for my boss who recently turned 60. Francois was there, and I had to get a picture with her.


Can you believe this woman is almost 60? I can only dream of being that adorable when I am almost 60! And yes, I know I look like an Amazon woman next to her, but in my defense, she is about 5 foot zero and probably doesn't weigh 100 pounds.

It used to bother me when people said I was “cute.” I always thought I would rather be described with words such as “lovely,” or “elegant,” or “beautiful.” I always thought of “cute” as the way you would describe a little kid or a puppy or a sweater, not an adult woman. But, now that I am heading towards 50, I honestly think that there is no better compliment someone could say to me than “you are so cute!”  On that same note, couple of weeks ago, one of my coworkers told me I’d changed a lot in the past couple of years, that she never realized how “feisty” I can be. I can think of nothing I’d rather be than a “feisty, cute” 50 year old. And I thank Francois for turning my thinking around.

The Forsythia is blooming!

I love forsythia. There is nothing that screams "Spring is arriving!" quite like those bright yellow blooms, even if there is still snow on the ground. Blooming forsythia has always signified for me that winter is finally coming to an end, and I think that is why I love them so much. I mean, how can you not love something that looks like a bright ray of sunshine on an otherwise dreary winter landscape?

Tony does not share my love of them. I wish that I could have a row of them along the back of our fence, so that I can gaze upon them as I am in my kitchen doing dishes or cooking. I've begged and pleaded over the years for Tony to let me plant some, and he just won't give in. I sometimes wish I'd known before we were married how he feels about them because it may have been a deal breaker. (I kid!)

We actually did once live in a house with forsythia in the yard. A whole row of them. It was the house we moved into just before Brandon was born. The day we looked at the house was a sunny yet cold Sunday in March, and while I loved the house and the neighborhood, what sucked me in for good was the row of forsythia across the back fence. The backyard was huge, so there were lots of forsythia, and they were in full, glorious bloom.

A few weeks later when me moved into the house, the forsythia had finished showing off it's beautiful spring sunshiney-ness. But, I envisioned the following spring, when I would happily take pictures of our baby plopped on a blanket in front of those blooming bushes. So, imagine my surprise when one day not long after we had moved in, I came home from work, got out of my car, and heard a chainsaw in my backyard. I went through the gate wondering what the heck Tony was doing back there. There wasn't even a tree back there, so I couldn't imagine what he was doing with a chainsaw. I didn't know we even owned a chainsaw.

Well, I soon discovered that he had gone to Home Quarters and purchased a chainsaw that very day so he could cut down the forsythia bushes! After I stopped in my tracks just inside the gate and stared at him in stunned silence for a few moments, those raging pregnancy hormones that course through a woman's body when she is 8 months pregnant became raging pregnancy hormones on steriods. I started screaming at him, "What the HELLLLLLLL are you DOING??"

That is when I found out my husband hates forsythia as much as I love it. I wondered then and still do, how in the world can you hate something so cheerful? I also wondered what all of our new neighbors thought of me. It was a beautiful April day, lots of people were out in their yards, and here is this hugely pregnant woman shouting curse words at her husband. I think that is the one and only time in my life I have stood out in my yard screaming and cursing. Not one of my finer moments, that's for sure.

Anyway, since I don't have forsythias in my own yard, once I notice them blooming, I usually drive around looking for them. On Monday, I was on my way home from work and noticed a row of them on a hill in someone's front yard. So yesterday, I took my camera to work with me so I could stop and take a picture on my way home. It's not a very good photo, but since it was in someone's front yard, I didn't want to get too close. I didn't want the homeowner to look out the window and wonder why some crazy lady was taking pictures of their house.



Notice the little hyacinths blooming underneath the forsythia.

I also noticed this week that the neighbor behind us has some new forsythia bushes along the side of their house. So, I can stand at my kitchen window and enjoy their bushes. I still wish I had some of my own. I wonder what my husband would do if I just went to a nursery, bought some and planted them? I wonder if he would dare to again cut down my forsythia...

Doing as I Say, Not as I Do

This is not my usual random post of nothingness, nor is it a “dancing in the rain” post. It’s about something that happened this week that truly stopped me in my tracks and made me think about myself in a way that I really haven’t before. So I guess it is a good thing I am going to write about, but also a strange thing.

Of course, it will take a story to get to my point. I could just get straight to the point, but the point wouldn’t make much sense without the story that leads up to the point. I will say before I get started though that this little situation was kind of turning point for me in a way. There have been way too many times in my life when someone has said something to me that was so cutting that I haven’t forgotten the harsh words. I am not going to list them all here, so don’t worry. But, at times in my life when things aren’t going so well and I’m feeling bad about myself, I sometimes conjur up those hurtful things as if they are proof that I am right for feeling bad about myself.

Now that I’ve probably totally lost you and/or thoroughly depressed you/and or made you think I need to seek therapy, I will tell my story.

A few days ago, I read something that a Facebook friend posted that made me cringe, and made me think so much of myself that I had to respond to her, even though she is not someone I normally interact with on FB. And as I was writing to her, something happened…it was a proverbial “light bulb” moment…as I was trying to boost her up, I thought to myself, “why the hell don’t I take my own advice that I am so freely doling out to someone else?”

So here’s what she wrote about. This gal is someone who while I don’t really know her well, I really admire her. She is very overweight, and she recently had some kind of gastric surgery, a sleeve, no idea what that is, but she has lost 60 pounds. She still has a long way to go, probably over 100 pounds still to lose, but she is doing a great job. She is working out, she posts pictures of herself periodically, and when I look at her photos, it is easy to see that she is so proud of how far she has come. It seems like she has a good support system of family and friends cheering her on.

Last Friday, she posted about how she and her family went out to eat, and some woman driving too fast in the parking lot nearly ran over her children. She shouted something to the woman, and of course, the woman yelled something nasty back. She called her a fat bitch.

A few days later, she posted an anti-bullying message that has been going around FB as her status. The first line of it was something like “the person you just called fat may have struggled to lose 30 pounds.” There was more, but the point of her post was how much that nasty woman in the parking lot calling her a fat bitch had affected her. She wrote:
I've felt fat ever since. I can't believe the effect it had on me, even though I know she was an ugly person on the inside. I feel like the almost 60 lbs I've lost are 60 lbs I've gained.

I don’t know this person well at all. But I wanted to cry for her when I read that. She has been doing so well, and is so inspiring to those who DO know her well, and to think that some random person who doesn’t even know her could make such a scathing remark that would now make her feel like she hasn’t accomplished anything at all…well, it pissed me off and made me feel the need to respond to her, even though I have never before responded to her on FB.

I wrote how I totally understood how she was feeling, that I am also a person who takes things people say to me way too much to heart. I wish that I didn’t, but I do, even when my brain is telling me that I shouldn’t. I have always wished I was the kind of person who could laugh, think to myself “bitch” and let nasty comments roll off my back, but I am not. I never will be, so I have just learned ways to live with that unwelcome and hated part of myself over the years. But, like I said in the beginning of this post, I struggle with it. It’s probably one of my greatest struggles. There are so many times I have been unable to get some nasty remark out of my head. And like I also said, they all come rushing in like a tidal wave and drown out anything good that I may feel about myself.

I didn’t tell her all of that, but I started telling her about something I have done for several years to help combat my self-hate feelings of insecurity.

Several years ago, someone from the Share boards wrote something to me that is one of those things that often creeps into my mind and threatens to destroy whatever tiny little bit of self esteem I do have. I’m not going to write it here, because it doesn’t matter what words she said. What matters is the feeling she evoked with her words. I did not know her in person. She knew absolutely nothing about me. Nothing. She knew nothing about the kind of person or friend or mom that I am. She knew nothing about how much of my heart and soul and tears I put into my job. She knew nothing about me at all. And while we had butted heads in the past, it didn’t affect me so profoundly until she made it personal and said some very hurtful things to me about the person she perceived me to be. And I am embarrassed to say that I let her hateful words affect me. I have no idea why.

I remember sitting in my boss’s office in tears (not an uncommon thing to happen by the way! LOL). That day, she told me that what I needed to do was start a “Warm Fuzzy” file…a file of emails, cards, notes, anything else I received thanking me or praising me for what I had done, or just anything that made me feel good and loved and cared about. She said that whenever someone said something to me that was hurtful or unkind or ungrateful, I needed to get that file out and read everything that was in it so that I could put the focus back where it should be…on all of the people who appreciate me and love me rather than on the folks who are Negative Nellies who probably wouldn’t be pleased by anything.

Why is it that so many of us women only focus on the people who cut us down rather than those who lift us up? I wish I had the answer to that.

Anyway…as I was writing to her about the Warm Fuzzy file I keep, and how it really does help me on bad days, and how she is doing an amazing job at getting herself healthy and she needs to focus on that instead of some random bitchy woman, that was when I had my light bulb moment and wondered why I could so easily tell someone else to not let a nasty comment affect her when I can’t do that myself? I started feeling so fortunate that I have had way more positive, supportive uplifting people in my life than negative bitchy people. And if you are reading this, you are one of the good ones!

And THEN…a funny thing happened. The person who said the nasty thing that ended with me in tears in my boss’s office replied. I didn’t even know she was FB friends with the person I was responding to. And she wrote that my Warm Fuzzy file was a great idea, that she needed to try it. And I had to restrain myself from writing back something to the effect of “you are the bitch that said something nasty that sent me to my boss’s office in tears and made me start my Warm Fuzzy file!”

And then I had another revelation. For several years, I have let this person’s nasty comment hang over me, affect me, and she had no clue. She obviously had forgotten it when I hadn’t. And I thought to myself/berated myself…how can I have let this one person have such power and control over me and how I feel about myself? And that led me to thinking about the other things said to me that have had a similar effect, some of them dating back to when I was a kid. I thought about how the person who said whatever it was has long forgotten it…how it has NO effect on their life whatsoever, so why should I let it have an effect on MINE? I shouldn’t!!

Why can’t my aging memory that makes me forget why I walked upstairs make me forget mean things that were said to me years ago?

Anyway, I felt ridiculous and embarrassed for myself. And I made a pact with myself. The next time I start focusing on some nasty off hand comment that someone made to me years or weeks ago, I’m going to mentally think of my Warm Fuzzy file if I can’t physically look through it. I copied and pasted what I posted to my FB friend into a word document and printed it off. I think I will put a copy of it in my wallet so that when I start letting negative people get me down, I can read what I wrote to her. And hopefully, it will inspire/encourage me to take my own advice.

This post is going to be about a whole lot of nothing. But what's new, most of them are, aren't they?

First of all, it is amazing what a little sunshine and a little retail therapy can do for a person. The sun was shining today, and it was 60 degrees. The sun and warmth was so welcome after the past few crummy rainy cold weeks we have had. I want nothing more than to purge winter from my life, and days like today make it seem like spring really is on it's way. I can't wait to sit out on my porch in the mornings and drink coffee.

I started my "tulip watch" today. Last spring, we planted a whole lot of tulips in the yard. Tony got them at the zoo once they had already bloomed, so I have no idea what color any them are. We planted them in the beds in front of our porch and around the mailbox. I've started checking daily to see how much the little green shoots have grown. You know what they say about a watched pot never boiling...well, a watched tulip doesn't grow. While I would like for them to sprout several inches each day, they don't. How dare them.

Today, I took a picture. And I decided that I am only going to do a tulip check on Fridays from now on. Here is what they look like today:

Onto the next random thing. I normally listen to what my kids call "OLD" music. Not "classic," like I call it, but OLD. As in wow, that was popular HOW many years ago? And you still LIKE it, Mom??? I try to tell them that someday, when they are OLD, they will fondly listen to the music they like now, and their kids will make fun of them the way they make fun of me. I tell them that The Black Eyed Peas will be their Eagles. They don't buy it, they roll their eyes, look at me and say, "who are the Eagles?"

Today, I shocked the heck out of my think-they-are-hip high schoolers. I bought a Katie Perry CD. I never buy CDs. Ever. I can't even remember the last CD I bought because it's been years. I made the mistake of taking my new CD with me when I went to pick up my kids from track practice, and they saw the CD case. And then laughed at me because:

*NO one buys CDs anymore. The truly hip with it people download from iTunes onto their iPods.

*I haven't joined the 21st century yet since I don't own an iPod.

*I bought a Katie Perry CD. Apparently, Katie Perry is not cool among high schoolers. Only middle schoolers. And I am obviously NOT a middle schooler. THANK God.

*My middle schooler laughed because apparently, we have lots of Katie Perry songs on iTunes, she has them on HER iPod, so what a waste of money for me to buy the CD.

*My middle schooler laughed when I reminded her that I do not have an iPod.

Anyway, I bought a Katie Perry CD today. There is a song on it that I love right now. "Firework." It's been on the radio for a while, but I never paid attention to the lyrics, until last Friday when we went to Lauren's basketball banquet. She wore a skirt because I bribed her with money to wear one. She looked so darn cute that I wanted to cry. We arrived at the country club where the banquet was being held, and I couldn't wait to take pictures. She had (or tried to have!) a fit and told me that I was not going to take pictures. And I told her that I WAS going to take pictures, or the money deal was off. So, this is the first picture. She obviously was not happy, she is stiff as a board, her fist is clenched at her hip like she is ready to punch me in the face, she had the fakest smile I've ever seen....but I took a picture anyway.

We went into the main room, and there were jaws dropping. It was sooo funny. We were early, but there were lots of girls and parents there, most of who came up to Lauren to tell her beautiful she looked, and choruses of "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ARE WEARING A SKIRT!!" It was cute, yet embarrassing for her I am sure. But, the girls legs have not been seen poking from a skirt or a dress since she was in 2nd grade.

So what does all THAT have to do with Katie Perry??

By the end of the night, THIS was Lauren, dancing and acting silly with her basketball friends to Katie Perry singing "Firework."

I've heard this song on the radio of course, but I never paid much attention to the words. At the banquet, a mom put together a slide show of pictures from the season with a few popular songs in the background. "Firework" was one of them, and I really listened to the words for the first time. Watching my sweet daughter who is so self conscious and shy at times dancing and singing and acting goofy with her friends to this song truly warmed my heart and brought tears to my eyes. The words to this song are exactly how I want my daughters (well, not just my daughters, but all my kids) to feel about themselves...that they are special and irreplaceable and they need to proudly show off what they have.

I tried to post a link to the video, but it didn't work.

One last random thing...months ago, I posted pictures of books in a dumpster.

And I wrote about my 3 year long project...wellllll....drumroll....after so many months of editing after we thought it was finished, this beautiful book finally went off to the printers today for it's final print. NO more editing, we handed them a copy with NO changes, and said PRINT IT.

Someday soon, I will posting a photo of boxes of this book. I am not the kind of person to brag on myself or pat myself on the back, but wow, this is one of my biggest accomplishments in all of my years at Share. So for once, I am patting myself on the back! Take not because it doesn't happen often.

Onto retail therapy....

I went shopping today to begin looking for an outfit to wear to the Angel Ball. Every other year, I procrastinate, wait until a few days before, can't find what I want, and then buy something I don't really like just to have something to wear. So this year, I started early. And I found something I loved at the first store I went to. I'd look much better in the outfit if I weighed 20 pounds less. Can a person lose 20 pounds in a month?

Here is a sneak preview. Hopefully by the time I wear this outfit, I will look better and post some pictures, but don't hold your breath.

This is all enough for now.

Someday...

I will miss this someday, won't I? Someday,my kids will be grown and gone and I just KNOW I will miss the messy piles of crap they leave in their wake. I WILL I WILL I WILL.

I will.

Is that pile really only from 4 kids? Maybe it's from 4 octopuses considering the number of pairs of shoes.

I have a busy work weekend ahead of me. I've been running around like a maniac today trying to finish up laundry and get things in order since I won't be home much this weekend. But that is still the scene that is right inside my front door. While I really wanted to scream at my family like a crazed pmsing woman in need of some serious drugs...I stopped, took a picture, closed my eyes and tried to convince myself that someday, I will miss this pile of crap my children and husband leave just inside my front door each day.

Enjoying Small Things

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post for our Share blog titled “Enjoying the Small Things.” I totally stole the idea from the blog that I have mentioned here called Enjoying the Small Things. I love that blog. I check it daily, even though she only writes a few times a week. Only…LOL…I have often been tempted to write to her and tell her that she must write every single day. I have refrained however. I just really enjoy her blog. She takes wonderful pictures, and she often inspires me to stop and savor the small things I encounter in life, things that I might have just passed right by if I wasn’t paying attention. It’s gotten to be such a habit that now, I often LOOK for little things to enjoy and focus on. On the Share blog, I wrote about how when you are grieving, sometimes small seemingly insignificant things may be the only things that get you through each day. I am not grieving, but life lately has been a bit shall I say…challenging. In fact, just this morning, I wanted to cry when Lauren asked me, “Mom, why does stuff keep happening to us? Are we bad or something?” She said this because something happened to Tony’s car Friday night,, not sure what, but it doesn’t seem to be good, the engine is making a horrible noise, it smells funky, and he barely made it home. It's in the shop right now. And though he desperately needs a new car, we can’t afford one right now. And just to make things even better, NOW something is wrong with my car, and Tony has spent the entire day working on it and driving all over kingdom come in the car he rented yesterday to find the parts he needs for it.

I didn’t know how to answer her question, so I put on my Miss Susie Sunshine hat and told her that while lots of things have happened to us, it could always be worse, and we have so much to be thankful for. It’s been a rough couple of years for us, and it really does start to wear me down. But thinking about this Enjoying the Small Things blog has often turned a day around for me.

Back to my blog post about enjoying the small things. I wrote about how I hate winter. Well, I didn’t say “hate” because when I sent my post to my boss to read, she said hate is too strong of a word and I need to not use it. So I changed my wording. However, this is MY blog, and if I want to say hate, I’m going to, as many times as I want to.

I HATE winter. I HATE winter. I HATE winter. I HATE winter.

Whew. I feel better now!

And this winter has really sucked. Big time. It is the worst winter I remember in years. However, I decided that I was going to make the best of it…I decided I was going to do whatever I could to enjoy all the snow days my kids have had, and I decided I was going to do my best to appreciate the beauty (cough cough gag) of winter even though I hate it.

I wrote in my blog post about taking the long way home from work one day after we had an ice storm. I often drive this route home from work as it is more scenic and relaxing, and it helps me unwind and distress a bit. This long route follows the Missouri River, and the road is lined on one side with trees and tall grasses that normally sway in the breeze. On this particular day, everything was coated with a thick layer of ice, and the sun was poking through the January clouds just enough to make everything sparkle and shine like it was coated in crystal. When I left for work that morning, it was gloomy and gray, so I didn’t take my sunglasses. On the way home, I wished that I had them because it was blinding. I pulled over and tried to take some photographs, but they didn’t turn out at all. My camera sucks. I want a new one, a really good expensive one. But that isn’t happening, so I make do with what I have. Sometimes I get good pictures, sometimes I don’t. I really wish I could have captured that sparkling crystal look that day because I have no words to adequately describe it.

The next day, I drove by the river in downtown St. Charles and stopped once again to take pictures. There were huge chunks of ice floating down the river, and it truly was breathtaking. Those pictures turned out much better. I have lived in St. Charles for 20 years. I have worked at Share, and our office is only 3 blocks away from the river, yet I have never even thought to drive by and take pictures on a winter day. And now I know I have been missing out. Check out this photo!





None of this has made me hate winter any less. However, trying to appreciate it more has made me feel less down and depressed than I normally do. When I wake up in the middle of the night and hear ice pelting against the window, I burrow under the covers and try to focus on the soothing sound rather than think of it as something I will have to scrape from my car’s windows in the morning. When the kids had yet another snow day, I did my best to make the best of it. We spent our many snow days watching movies, baking cookies and playing games of Yahtzee, Scrabble and Scattergories. One afternoon stands out in particular…each of the girls had a friend over, and Justin was home as well. They all played Scattergories for hours, and there was so much laughter and fun and for once, no arguing, and it did my heart good to hear my kids having so much fun together.

While life goes on, and isn’t easy right now, I think I have done a darn fine job of finding small things to enjoy. I’m a list person, so I will make a list now of all the small things I have enjoyed lately.

*Baking bread
Bread baking is my new addiction. For years, I always wanted to try my hand at making bread, but I was too afraid to. I have no idea why, but the whole kneading thing scared me. Not anymore. Kneading the dough is my favorite part of making bread. Wait, I lied. My favorite part of making bread is eating it, and tied for first is the wonderful smell that fills my house while it bakes. Kneading is my second favorite part. I feel like a little kid playing with warm Play Doh, only better. My favorite bread to make is the Rosemary bread they serve at Macaroni Grill. No, I don’t like it because it’s called Rosemary bread and I’m narcissistic…it’s just really amazing bread. I make it at least once a week, and my kids go nuts when I do. I go nuts when I do. The recipe makes 2 loaves, and both loaves are always inhaled.




I have also made two luscious loaves of my grandma’s banana bread.




*Baking cookies
I have baked oodles of cookies this winter. I’ve tried new recipes; I even wrote about one of them a couple of weeks ago, the peanut butter cookies with white chocolate, pretzels and sea salt. I’m addicted to those too. My next addiction needs to be going to the gym, and I hope it kicks in soon or I’m going to hate putting on summer clothes. If any of my summer clothes even still fit me…

*Baking cake
I’ve made several new cake recipes…my favorites are pistachio cherry cake, malted milk ball cake, and little individual chocolate cakes made in custard cups called Lava Cakes. That name is very deceiving. Lauren calls them “Heaven on a Fork” cakes. When you cut into them, this hot yummy chocolatey gooeyness oozes out from the middle of the cake.

*Baking pizza
I think we have eaten more homemade pizza in the past 2 months than we have eaten ever. I’ve spoiled my kids and created a bunch of pizza monsters. A couple of days ago, after a crazy day at work, I didn’t want to cook and decided to order pizza from our usual take out pizza place. The kids were mad because they wanted homemade.

There is a theme here…baking. I think I’ve gained about a million pounds this winter. I can’t wait for spring so that maybe my baking hobby will get in a fight with my gardening hobby and my gardening hobby will beat the crap out of my baking hobby.

Enough about baking. Just writing about it is making me hungry.

Other small things I have enjoyed/noticed/maybe photographed lately:

*Watching a beautiful sunset unfold before my eyes while sitting on my front porch




*Chatting with my niece who I love dearly but don’t often talk to

*Watching my daughter handle situations with her friends with grace and wisdom that I did not possess at her age. Some of the things she has had to deal with lately with her so called “friends” would have left me in a puddle of tears when I was 12. Heck, if I had to deal with friends treating me like that NOW I’d be a puddle of tears. I have so often worried about her, and I know I will spend many more years worrying about her, but for now, she seems to have good head on her shoulders and won’t put up with any bullshit. I wish I could be more like her!

*An old friend who I haven’t seen for over 9 years is going to come to St. Louis in March with her little girls.

*Seeing the many tulips we planted in the spring sprout through the cold ground. Last spring, when Tony was still working at the zoo, he brought home a huge number of tulips. Apparently the zoo thins out plants each year, throws the discards into a big pile, and the employees are welcome to take them home. The flowers had already died and fallen off, so there was no way to know what colors they are, and I’m looking forward to seeing what they turn out to be.




*The organization We Love St. Charles! that gave our office a makeover back in the summer brought us all new office chairs last week, and the backs of them vibrate. Oh my, it’s heavenly. My back has been treating me poorly for the last week, and that chair vibrates right in the perfect spot. I was tempted to bring it home with me each night.

*I got a haircut for the first time since September, and I feel like a new woman and no longer hate looking at myself in the mirror. The last time I got it cut, it was a short layered style, and as it’s grown out, it started to look like Florence Henderson from her Brady Bunch years.

*I bought a new purse for the first time in I think 3 or 4 years. And it was only $12 at TJ Maxx. And it's pink! Check out this cutie!



I started knitting a new scarf in a lacy pattern that I have never attempted before. I love how it's turning out, even though by the time I finish it, it will not be scarf weather. Oh well.





*Girl Scout cookies are in!

I’m sure there are more things I could write about, but this is probably enough for now.

My Spirit is Weary.

I know I am supposed to be writing only positive things here, but bear with me for a moment, and I will eventually. I'm even going to share a delicious new cookie recipe I tried today.

I know things could (and have been!) worse. Much worse...Tony has a job, he really enjoys it, and even found out this weekend that he may have another job offer, at a company he applied to back in August. If he gets this other job, we will be moving, and I'm not sure how I feel about that to be honest. Like I said, I KNOW things could be worse. But, at the same time, I am just tired of so many things being hard. I do my very best every day to keep a positive attitude, and it is becoming harder and harder to do.

Okay, that's enough whining. Onto the postive things!

In true Rose fashion, this morning when the house was quiet and I really had nothing pressing to do, I really just wanted to huddle under my Aunt Mary's raggedy quilt on the couch and watch movies all day. Knowing that if I did, it would depress me even more, I did what I always do...I decided to cook!

The first thing I did was check out my favorite food blog. It's called The Picky Palate, and I absolutely LOVE it. I have found more unique, yet simple recipes there...remember the chocolate peanut butter cupcakes from a few months ago? That recipe came from there. I was in the mood to bake cookies, but none of my go-to favorites sounded good. So, what do I find as the newest post on The Picky Palate? A recipe for Double White Chocolate Peanut Butter Pretzel Cookies with Sea Salt. Oh my stars...you have to try these...they are so yummy. I've eaten WAY too many of them already.

Switching gears...what a beautiful day it was. I went for a walk for the first time in...well...a long time. I even got brave and took the black beast along. Big mistake...I'm just thankful my shoulder is still in it's socket where it belongs.

That's all I got for today!