pardon our progress

from an email i sent to my brother and My Friend Rachel. forgive the lack of capitalizations and the rambling. i was just getting my thoughts out...


its ok. could be worse, but only in that "just be thankful you have a solid marriage and no one is dying of cancer" kind of way.

tomorrow he and/or Napoleon will take care of the last things in teh warehouse that belongs to a customer - ie: deliver it.

some woman knocked on all the doors of the office today. the loading dock doors too. shook the office entry door. his truck was parked in the big warehouse. it didn't appear that anyone was there. probably some determined/deranged customer.

he apologized again.

he had the most pitiful "i'm gonna miss this" look on his face tonight while Stinkerbell and Lucky ate supper after soccer practice.

he is pursuing the catastrophe team job with the insurance company. he will be traveling year-round, working 10 days off 4. they will pay for his travel and a lot of his expenses. but he will be living in hotels and away from us - alone every night. missing them do so much and growing up so fast

and IT'S JUST NOT FAIR DAMMIT

why is this the price he has to pay? why does HE have to pay the price? why do our kids? this makes me so angry and sad and bitter and depressed and determined and scared - all at the same time.

wonder if the insurance company will let him install a webcam on his computer.

he asked me to help at the office some tomorrow. i'm going to exchange this laptop, with its missing "v" thanks to Lucky and his surprise bombing of a coaster over the top of the screen, for a faster, newer, bigger, cooler version, complete with a leather top and probably a great Swiss Gear bag.

i'm also helping carl do a resume. he's applying for a job at a water plant in Ga. he can retire from here and get whatever his retirement would be and then work over there also and get 2 checks.

he got his personal stuff out of his office tonight. its in boxes in the basement. i never got to take a picture of his office after the renovations were finished. we ordered a set of 3 framed, canvas portraits for his office. we also ordered some for here. so, i guess mom and dad are getting some portraits of us for dad's birthday or to celebrate September or some reason.

this sucks, have i told you that yet? well, i'll say it again now and later a lot more.

this is not about money anymore. this is about our family. how do we recover from this? how do we keep it together and stay close? how do I keep him in the kids lives? how do I maintain him as the leader in our family when he won't be here?

why do i have to do this shit?

when will i shower? how will i manage Stinkerbell to and from school, homework, soccer practice and games, art lessons (probably out the door), Lucky getting the attention he needs/deserves, doctors appointments, changing the light bulbs in the stupid fixtures at my vanity that scare the bejeebus out of me with their 30 year-old bare wires showing, the dogs needing to go to the vet and they make me itch and wheeze, and my job too?

oh, and when will i find the chance to shower? seriously. cuz its already a challenge now.

also, i like to sleep a little and occasionally have 10-20 seconds to myself. the alone time is negotiable, but the sleep thing is a deal-breaker.

have we been that ungrateful and prideful? were we so ingratious as to act like God had nothing to do with the business and its success that we had to lose it to learn some horribly painful difficult heart-breaking lesson? (no, i'm not sure if "ingratious" is a real word, i may have just made it up. whatever. screw it. call Websters and tattle on me. heck, if "ginormous" can be added to the dictionary, so can my imaginary words.)

we worked hard. we did a good job. we provided good products to good people. we worked with great people. we learned a lot. we made a little money. we paid our bills and others did the same - at least for a while. we did our best. we were scared. we were excited. we were confident. we were comfortable. we were growing. we were rewarded and rewarding others. we had hard times. we struggled. we fought. we lost. we are scared. we are sad. we are grieving. we are angry. we are disappointed. we are hopeful. we are humbled. we are repentant. we are filled with regrets over what could/should have been and the price we're going to pay. we are thankful. we are looking for God in this. we are resting in him. we are depending on him. we are reliant on him. we aren't where we should be, but we are getting there.

i'm so dadgummed tired but all i can think about is the price he and Stinkerbell and Lucky are going to pay over the next few weeks and months. and WHEN will it be that God provides him a means to come home to us and stay?

pray for strength for all of us.

More apologies

Mr Nashville didn't make the deal.

We are officially and finally and for-good out of business.

The Mighty Hunter apologized to me again.

He is following up with his job search with the Major Insurance Company for which he used to work, hoping to get another, Different job with them. This is the job that will require him to travel and not work here and be away from us.

Yet, this job has Security and Benefits.

Our company had Security and Benefits too.

Now it has Unpaid Debts and Collectors and Chapter 7.

There will be brighter days. We will look back on these days and be amazed how God got us through.

But today, I'm mourning the loss of something that we spent 3 years building. 3 years of long days and short nights. 3 years of sacrificing time with our kids. 3 years of Responsibility. 3 years of hard work. 3 years of making friendships that will last forever. 3 years of accruing debt that will probably go unpaid. 3 years of building relationships that are now damaged and may never recover. 2 years of Success + 1 year of Economy-Induced Debt and Failure.

So, pray for us and the staff, that we will find work to pay our bills. I know that we are all in God's hands (and it still feels good here,) I just wish I could find work that would allow me to continue to spend time with Stinkerbell and Lucky like we have done. I just wish that The Mighty Hunter didn't have to leave us to find work. I just wish that everyone still worked where they were happy.

I just wish...

And for now, that wish will have to do.

It made me cry

After Stinkerbell's final teeball game tonight, we had dinner with my parents. It was an unremarkable fast-food, chicken finger place. Stinkerbell had her Club Libby Lu backpack stuffed with pj's and a change of clothes for tomorrow, as she was going to spend the night with Nanny and Pa. (God love them.)

The Mighty Hunter and his dad went to a friend's camper at the lake for a night of fishing. (yeah, right.) "Fishing" is code for telling jokes, laughing, farting and drinking. They do this once a year or so, and most times, never get their line wet. Unless they pee on it while being nature-boys.

Tonight, it's me and my baby.

Lucky and I left dinner and with the intent of going to W-M and getting a dvd for Sunday (his dedication service at The Mighty Hunter's brother's church. Yes, his brother is a pastor. Scary, huh?) On a whim - yes, whim - I stopped at the Goody's store next to my W-M. Still fluffy with baby fat, I am unable to wear most of my dresses or skirts. I browsed the racks and came to the following conclusions:

1. I have no clue how to put together an outfit with the clothes on the racks now. No. Clue.
2. The dresses I see look like something from a Donna Summer video (did she make any videos then?)
3. Is there nothing out there that functions for a nursing mom with her wide bra straps and dumpy figure but still makes us look and feel sexy and not sexy in the that'll-cost-you-$50 way?
4. My answer to #3 is no.

So, I did what any post partum gal would do. I called Beverly and cried and talked about my big thighs and wide hips and that the one dress I tried on actually fit and was a bigger size than I've ever worn. And I only vaguely looked like a pro in it, but I definitely looked like I might to audition for Flashdance.

And you know what Beverly did?

She grabbed 5 or 6 dresses from her closet and brought them over to my rescue and laughed with me for a good 30 minutes and made me feel better.

Yes, she did.

And that's why she's one of my best friends.

That and the fact that she calls The Mighty Hunter a "butt munch" at work.

You gotta love a gal that can insult your husband, who is her boss, and get away with it.

Oh, and right now? I should be packing for our trip to Dauphin Island. Obviously I'd rather blog.

I still might cry some more over this whole clothes debacle.

So you think you can dance walk

Yesterday was just loads of fun.



Loads.



I needed to help The Mighty Hunter by securing the wireless network at his showroom. So, I gathered Stinkerbell and Lucky and enough diapers and crayons and construction paper to entertain and cover the butts of the population of Rhode Island, packed them into backpacks for Stinkerbell to carry down the stairs.



I was wearing a pair of sandals different from my faves for the first time this summer. My faves were smelling like someone else's feet. Because mine don't smell like feet. ahem



Stinkerbell was toting the backpacks down the stairs to the garage (in the basement) ahead of me. I was coming behind with Lucky in his car seat carrier thingy.



Halfway down the stairs the carpet grabs the toes on my right foot.



or



The sandals temporarily disables my right foot.



or



I clumsily drag my toe on the carpet like a doofus.







Probably the last one.



anyhoo. In slow motion, I went down. In my head, I said a prayer to protect my baby. From my mouth came something not nearly as wholesome and Christiany. "ooooooooooohhhhhhhh sh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!+."



The crash test results of a mommy falling down stairs with her child in his Graco SnugRide, ramming said carseat into a wall of very ugly 1970s panelling, mommy's knee hitting car seat's bottom portion of carseat near baby's feet?



Pass.



Mommy's knee? swollen and going to sport a very big bruise. Mommy's ankle that twisted as she fell down the stairs? stiff and achy. Mommy's elbow with a mysterious abrasion? ouch. Mommy's right shoulder? fine yesterday, but stiff and sore this morning.



Lucky was fine. It scared him and he cried for a few moments. Stinkerbell was also scared. She calmed down and entertained Lucky until I realized my knee cap was not broken and I could indeed move and bend my leg. I can walk, but I can't put all of my weight on that leg and can't climb stairs normally.

This is one of those times when you think of what might have happened. Stinkerbell could have been 5 seconds slower getting off the bottom step and would have been squished. There very likely would have been broken bones. It would have been horrible. But I'll be ok. I'll limp around for a few days.

I may go see my handsome orthopaedist Monday. That means I'll have to figure out how to shave my legs without bending my right knee. And, no, I'm not that flexible. I wonder if I can talk The Mighty Hunter into putting some of that Veet on me. Any opinions/experience with it?




My middle name is Sue, not Grace. I tell you this because I know you're gonna ask.

Because of you...

I'm writing this as my entry into the Christian Women Online Blog Challenge to describe how blogging has been a blessing to me. I don't think I'll win the prize, but I'd love to. I would so LOVE a custom blog design. Nevertheless...

Blogging is a form of journaling that I've actually maintained longer than any previous attempt at recording my thoughts and experiences. While I've never kept a prayer journal, I kept a diary for a few weeks after Stinkerbell's birth and, of course, as a kid. I never did much in my wedding book or baby books! I suppose those forms of expression were just not geeky enough for me, I suppose. Blogging allows me to tap into my intense yearning to express myself with words and sit at my computer much longer than I should, all the while making friendships with others in far-flung places and just down the road.

I've become fascinated with how some exceptional writers can paint pictures of their mundane lives with their children and husbands. Pictures that are just plain hilarious and poignant. Pictures that inspire. Pictures that build a bond between bloggers. (how's that for alliteration?)

I can peek through kitchen windows and watch other families go through their lives. Organ transplantation (here too). Adoption. Large families. First-time mothers. Major illness. And humorous gals who give to others.

But for me, blogging provides an interaction with adults (ADULTS! YAY! How's my hair? Let me change out of my pj's into real clothes!) that is precious to me at this point in my life. Staying at home with a newborn son, breastfeeding, etc., contributes to a pretty high level of loneliness and detachment for me. Admittedly, this blogging interaction is not face-to-face, but it works for those of us who suffer from varying degrees of social anxiety. And much like email and instant messaging, I can share what I want to share and hide what I want to hide. I can begin and end my "conversations" when I choose. I can ignore whom and what I want. I can avoid the things that cause me stress and grief. I can enjoy the things that I love. I can ask the questions I need answered. I can express my deepest, darkest thoughts. I can peel the onion of my emotions and sinful life. I can seek reassurance and love from others in similar circumstances. I can find God in it all. I can praise Him too.

Recently, I've reached a cross-roads in my life. A pattern of behavior must end and a new way must begin. This change has not come as a surprise. But it has been avoided and procrastinated. Facing my failures hurts. a lot. Knowing I've disappointed my husband tears my heart out. The guilt is killing me.

A few weeks ago, I was unable to sleep. In an attempt to exhaust my thoughts and distract myself from the stress caused by my guilt and self-loathing, I began browsing blogs. I stumbled across Kelly's blog and this entry. Her willingness to express the changes God made in her and her marriage truly touched me. And for the first time, I wept and asked God to heal my heart and change ME and not change my circumstances to suit me.

God hasn't finished with me yet. I'm way too stubborn for my own good. And, like in the past, God has to get my attention in a big way to get me to put forth the kind of effort He requires.

Through Kelly, I've been encouraged and challenged to be a better person and a more genuine Christian and to put my heart back into my marriage - as God desires of me. Through responses to my posts about this phase of my life and my requests for prayer, I've been shown the love of God for me that brings me to my knees. Now, when I can't love myself, God is loving me through His children that are strangers to me.

I've written this without proofing it thoroughly. I'm gonna leave it as it is now. I'm afraid if I try to make it better, I'll take something away from it. In my attempt to improve my grammar or syntax, I might remove some of my sincerity. I might close my kitchen curtains and shut you out, hiding my life and protecting myself.

But, this mostly anonymous blog allows me to tell secrets that I normally would bury in the deepest, darkest places in my heart.

It feels wrong to say these things about Kelly and the other blogs that have blessed me so much without saying one more thing. Thank you. Ok, two things: God Bless You!

This article is my submission to the blog challenge sponsored by Darlene Schacht,, the founder and editor of CWO Magazine, Uniting Women of Faith.

I don't want to be me anymore.

I don't know WHO ELSE I would like to be. But it's not me.

I know that everyone has their own hornet's nest of issues. I'm just tired of mine.

I know I'm not alone in this too. At least I think I am.

I don't like the things I do. I don't like making the same kind of mistakes repeatedly. I don't like me at all.

I could go back to bed for the REST of the day. And I totally would if I didn't have commitments and responsibilities. I wish I didn't have those particular responsibilities.

I'd like to eat a whole pack of chocolate chip cookies. Right Now. All of them. With a gallon of milk.

Screw being an adult.

Screw healthy eating.





I think I'd like to be Stinkerbell. Or Lucky.

I wish I could just like myself. I wish I could be a better Me.

Me sucks.



I guess it wouldn't be inappropriate to ask for a few up-lifting prayer and thoughts. Thank you.

Woohoo!!!
Pityyyyyy Partaaaaay!!!

woo

hoo

So, the credit card bill from Christmas shopping and baby supply shopping and final clearance maternity clothes shopping and and and and

Well, it was here last month and some of it was here in December. And, we put everything on our credit card because "we pay it off each month and it earns us points toward the very valuable and important and precious hunting addiction supplies and some great shoes and sweaters and Gore-Tex coats".

except I didn't.

Pay it off, that is.

I did make some substantial payments toward it, but OMG, the way this family consumes unnecessary things like milk and toilet paper and soap and diapers and formula too (because Lucky is a bottomless pit. bottomLESS, I say) and the car insurance and DirecTV and a few other things automatically get paid by the credit card. So, the balance is not going down.

It's not going UP either.

very much at least.

Well, The Mighty Hunter was given the news yesterday and the Great Money War began again after a tenuous cease-fire.

So, here's the damage.

I'm no longer handling money of any amount beyond pocket change.

pocket change = coins

I no longer have to pay the bills. I've hated and despised and loathed and hated that chore for years. I don't know why I've been the one to do it. But no more.

I have to consult with The Mighty Hunter before I make any purchases.

any = a coke

I have to submit receipts for every expense.

every = a coke

I have disappointed and hurt the Mighty Hunter and his confidence in me and his trust in me.

I can't begin to put into words the black pit of self-loathing and self-pity I'm in today.

He's not talking to me very much. He's forcing himself to answer my questions. He's not mad or yelling. He's through with that. It didn't change anything and he's through wasting his energy. He's civil. He's hurting and disappointed.

I'm responsible for that.

It breaks my heart to know I've done that to him.

Yet...


he still loves me.

his email back to me. Yes, I emailed him, because I'm chicken and it's the only way I can build the confidence to say that I need to hear that he loves me still...

"I will always love you. That’s something that will not change no mater what. It’s not something that I can turn on or off by your actions"



Party on, Gal.

Yes, I know that there are much worse things that I could be going through. There are much worse things that are going on in this world. This is just what I'm going through right now.

and it's really hard

really really hard





Not to be totally bipolar or anything, but...

Lucky's infant acne is not acne, its eczema. And that bottomless pit thing? Yeah, his weight gain is great.

Birth - 9 lbs
2 days old - 8 lb 2 oz
5 days old - can't remember
15 days old - 9.5 lbs
yesterday ( 1 month, 1 day old) - 11 lbs 14 oz

oink oink

bottomLESS PIT

Am I the only CRAZY one?

I'm beginning to think I am. But who knows. Maybe *I'm* the sane one and the rest of y'all crazy!!!

I was just looking over my blog here. I had added some links and the weather thingies and saw the pictures of my family. Therefore I saw the pictures of myself. And this thought actually crossed my mind. (Yes, I do have a mind!)

"Is that what I REALLY look like?"

And it wasn't one of those "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful" thoughts.

It was more of a "Don't hate yourself because of what you look like" thought.

(This topic had a lot more potential before my interruption.

Now I can't remember any of it.

As I review the above, I'm having some of the same thoughts as before. Deja vu all over again.)

As I was saying....

It was more of a "Don't hate yourself because of what you look like" thought.

I'm not an overly conceited person, I don't think so, anyway. I don't stare into the mirror for 2 hours while getting ready in the morning. I'm one of those who dries her hair, hoping it isn't going to go the wrong direction, because I couldn't use the curling or straightening iron (yes, I have both) to correct my hair's behavior for the LIFE OF ME!!! I merely use them to get a little lift or straightening or whatever they do.

Actually, I use the straightening iron on DD a good bit more than myself.

Just realized it's lunchtime and for ONCE I'm not hungry. That's strange. My stomach has a clock that very predictably tells me that it is 10:30. But it missed it completely today.

Sorry, should have warned you about that tangent. Today's attention deficit forecast is for a high probability of tangents. Take appropriate caution.

Back to my primping routine...

I'm pretty low maintenance. I haven't always been. But life would pass me by if I didn't reduce my personal appearance routine. I'll wear make-up a few times a week at best. I fix my hair to the best of my abilites everyday. I wear earrings 24/7 (my left earlobe is prone to growing closed if not constantly pierced) My watch and laptop interfere with each other. Since I have the OPTION of wearing a watch and my computer options are minimal, the watch stays on the dresser for nights out (vague memories of nights out) or church or other times when I won't need my laptop (aka Sally).

Everyone names their computers, right? My old one is now referred to as Ol' Bessy. My dad's old Dell is Old Blue. His new Toshiba hasn't been nicknamed yet, but Lucky seems to be my favorite, so far. Lucky seems appropriate as I was able to upgrade the warranty to include accidental damage coverage just in time for him to break the latch!

I warned you about the tangents. Stay alert! Both fingers firmly on the mouse!

You know how you think your voice sounds a particular way. THEN the most horrible thing happens. You hear your voice over an answering machine or voicemail. And you say, "Do I really sound like THAT? Turn it off. Turn it off!!"

That's what I'm experiencing over photos of myself while at Disney World.

"Do I really look like THAT? Delete that picture. Delete that picture!!"

I guess I thought my "angular facial features" (translated=pointy chin) were more Michelle Pfeiffery and less Miss Hathaway (from Beverly Hillbillies).

Tangent - did you know that the actress that played Miss Hathaway was also in Sabrina w/Audrey Hepburn? Yup. Saw it on AMC or somewhere this weekend and there she stood.

I think it would help if I were a litte LESS low maintenance. DH would like it. DD would have fun too.

We'll see.

Meanwhile, I have a bunch of pictures to paste Michelle's face into over mine.