Let's Play Pretend.

I have an amazingly interesting life in my head. At least, I think so. Often, I'm famous. Sometimes, I'm exciting, or brave and adventurous. I am always strong, and rarely crazy.

Most recently, I have been an actress with a recurring role on ABC's Castle. The cast and I have great fun hanging out and going to karaoke, where I bully Nathan Fillion into taking a twine picture for
The Bloggess. This will have to stop since Jenny has asked us to quit bugging Mr. Fillion.

Monday, during the Daytona 500, I was a NASCAR drivers girlfriend. The best part of this was the marriage I arranged in my head between Johnny and Jeff Gordan's daughter to take place 20 years from now. Free NASCAR tickets for life. YAY!

Sometimes, I invent an extra character in a novel I'm reading, so that the story can keep going even when I put the book down. I'm very good at this. Once, in high school, I was an Aes Sedai from Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series for something like 2 years. I had a bunch of online friends and we wrote the most awesome fan fiction. I miss them. Most of us are all grown up now with families. Some of us were already grown up.

Last summer, I was a the girlfriend of an Irish mobster who, unbeknownst to me, had killed  my husband 18 months before. The local mob was gonna make me a famous singer, like the Italians and Sinatra. This was quite fun as I was actually trying to write this into a novel. I wrote 10 pages. Maybe I'll try again. I had a really good plot line.

Am I the only one whose nuts like this? Or are there other adults who play pretend in their head while they do laundry or cook dinner, if only to make life a little less routine.

Ten Things Tuesday--Redneck life

Here are 10 things that put me in the redneck category, even though, in all honesty, I'm only a redneck when no one is looking.

Lily in her Camo dress.

1.) The best Monday of my life was February 27, 2012 because the Daytona 500 was postponed so I got to watch the biggest NASCAR race of the year followed by Castle. This was only made more redneck by the fact that I like watching BIG EXPLOSIONS. Thank you Juan Puablo for the entertainment. So glad you are ok. Wish is wasn't you. You are my number one favorite driver. Check out the action here.

2.) The 4th of July holiday starts with bump to pass races and a demolition derby on the 3rd.

3.) I dress both my son and my daughter in Camo. Acutally, we all wear camo. Or used to. My camo pants no longer fit, but I have asked my husband to stop buying stuff for everyone but me when he goes to the sporting goods store. I told him to bring me a pink camo sweatshirt or something.

Larch and his mini-me, Johnny, in their matching Real Tree coats.

4.)We go to Cabela's for pictures with Santa Claus

5.) I wear Carhardts. It's worse. I wear double knee Carhardts.  The look good on me too.

6.) I drive a jacked up Toyota. Ok, it's really my husband's jacked up 4Runner.  And I'm still kind of a Chevy girl. However, I drive his jacked up 4runner more often than I drive my crappy little Saturn that used to be nice before I fell asleep and drove it into a tree. We do own a '74 Chevy, but it doesn't run.

7.) My living room is decorated on one side with model ships, on the other it is a conglomeration of bears, bows and arrows, wood carvings, and elk, moose, and deer sheds. For those of you not redneck, sheds are antlers that are dropped in midwinter the way a dog sheds it's coat in summer. You go shed hunting just after the last snow melts. Shed hunting is basically a long hike, way up in the mountains, but you look at the ground and hope to find antlers.

8.)  I lettered in football in high school. I'll let you figure out how  a 5 foot nothing, at the time, 100 pound, wimp lettered in football. I was NOT a kicker.

9.) I own two cowboy hats. But I look the better in my husbands. It has bear claws hanging off the back of it.

10.) My backyard doubles as my kitchen in the summer.

Daddies Garage Has What my Husband Wants.

I really want to have another baby. I love my two kids, but I think that just one more would make my family feel complete. Larch is ready to be done with diapers and potty training and baby things. We are not currently on birth-control, but we are not "trying" to conceive. I, being smart and yet not overly manipulative, have taken the high road and been praying for God to change Larch's heart. I have asked my Bible study group to pray that we will come to a place of unity on this life changing event. I should have known that God is not like Westley in Princess Bride, who answers all requests with "as you wish."

The last few days have been rough around our house. The kids cannot seem to go for more than 15 minutes without getting into major trouble. Not the "quit hitting your sister, share with your brother, please be quiet" type of trouble. No I'm talking about that kind of trouble that resulted in the first ever grounding of my 4 year old. The kind of trouble that makes you want to pull your hair out and lock the kids in the closet kind of trouble.  In an unusual turn of events, I have handled this better than Larch. Normally, I am the one to fly off the handle and just shut down because I can't take one more minute. This time though, I have remained mostly cool-headed and have just taken things in stride. Larch has turned into me. I finally called his brother and arranged a play-date, just so that Larch could have  a few hours when he didn't have to be my husband or the kids dad. I gave him a free pass to go drink with the boys.

We can add to the kids inability to behave, my drawing near to a total mental break. I think we may have passed the danger zone and avoid total collapse. However, there has been tension between Larch and I, and as I discussed in my last post, my brain does not process his words or motivations correctly. I am losing my confidence in my ability to be a wife and mother. I am starting to doubt that I have made any progress on the road to recovery. (This is something I know to be untrue in my clear moments; I am getting better in some areas and I am discovering new problems in others.)

Back to my prayers.  I am in rebellion right now. I get the feeling that perhaps God is telling me that he is not going to change Larch's mind yet.  Perhaps, He is trying to tell me, that I am not as ready as I think I am. That while He may or may not have more children in our future, now is not the time. I don't like this idea. I want another baby. I might even tell you I NEED another baby. Maybe I just want to be pregnant so that I don't feel so bad about the fact that I no longer fit into 89% of my clothing.

Don't tell Larch I'm thinking these thoughts. It's more fun to joke about the next baby while he laughs at me and then we just kinda roll our eyes at each other. Surprisingly, my wanting a baby and his not is the thing we have the least tension over right now. It keeps things light.

Sometimes Life Seems to Hard.

This is gonna be a rather serious post. I'm not even going to attempt intentional humor. You don't have to read any further if you don't want to. 

I just feel that if I am going to be open about my BPD, I need occasionally disclose the struggles I face. This is hard, because I don't want to paint my husband or the rest of my family in a bad light. They may honestly live up to the negative I see, but having BPD, I don't always have a clear picture. I do what they call idealization/devaluation. I do it often. I do it a lot with my husband. I do it a lot with myself.

Lately I'm really struggling with my own self-image. I go from a high point, seeing myself as awesome and amazing and strong, to so completely low that I can't see how I am possibly excelling at anything. Right now, I can't believe I am even an adequate wife. I see myself as a complete failure of a wife. If I'm a horrible wife, then it follows that I am not a fit mother.  If I can't keep my house clean and the laundry done, I obviously am not providing a safe or healthy environment for my kids. (This may or may not be accurate, I really and honestly cannot see beyond my own sense of worthlessness.) Black and white thinking is not unusual for someone with BPD. In fact, it's one of the symptoms used for diagnostic purposes. 

I am also much more irritable, according to my husband. According to me, I am just defending myself against things he says. He may or may not be saying them in an accusatory, angry, or frustrated tone. I perceive his tone as such, but I may be deluded. He really is a good man. He's put up with my crazy for 5 years. I know that he has no intention of leaving me or the kids. We are both committed to the marriage. But I cannot help but feel like I should be worried that one of us is going to leave. Somewhere, I know this isn't true, but I can't shake the thought.

I have, for the first time in my life, found myself intentionally causing physical harm to myself. I'm not in anyway attempting to end my own life. The physical pain makes the emotional pain more bearable. I don't know why and I don't like it. In fact, I hate it. I always swear I will not do it again. And then, Larch and I get into a fight, and no matter who is right, or what it was about, I feel like I am not good enough for anybody. I remove myself to the bedroom and I try to calm down. I do calm down, but I dissociate. I totally check out from reality. I know this is not good and so I try to bring myself out of it. The problem is, I don't want to color, I can't focus on reading, my make-up and hair stuff hold no interest for me, and normally I can't think of anything to write that won't air dirty laundry to the world. This is when I start to scratch myself. It pulls me out of nowhere and it make me hurt less. The next day it stings like a mother and I can't believe I was that stupid. 

Today, I am writing. Maybe now I won't feel the need to hurt myself. But really I just want everything to be better and stay better. I want to like myself. I want to be good enough. I want to not fight with my husband, and myself and whoever else. I want to spend the hours after dinner enjoying my family, not worrying about who is gonna make the first explosive comment that drives me to my room to try and put the shattered pieces of myself back together. 

I want to make it very clear, that Larch does not in anyway verbal, emotionally, or physically abuse me. Any damage done to my confidence and self image is not so much a result of his words as it is a byproduct of my disorder. I can twist the most harmless word or phrase into a judgement on me. Larch is an amazingly supportive husband, and all of his complaints about my housewife skills are legitimate and called for. I am lazy and unmotivated and do not preform to my fullest capability. This is why when he comments it cuts so deep. My inability to see in anything other than black and white is where my self deprecation comes from. If I'm not excellent I must be horrid. This is not true, but it is what my brain tells me. If I am not full, I must be starving. If it is not hot, it must be cold. If my husband is upset with me, it is not possible for him to love me, he must hate me. Again, not true but that's how my brain works. I want to be healthy, but I have to walk the road to health and it is long and hard and painful. I will do it though. It just hurts right now.

Where Have All the Girl Scouts Gone.

I read a lot of blogs and spend way to much time on the internet. I keep reading about Girl Scouts and cookies and whatnot and have come to a conclusion. There are no longer any Girl Scouts in my town. I have yet to see one at a store asking me to please buy cookies. I WANT to buy cookies. I am a lifetime member of Girl Scouts (I'll show you my card as soon as I find it).  I NEED to buy cookies. Where are you Girl Scouts. I need my Trefoils, and Thin Mints, and my mom and dad and sister need Samoas, even if they don't know it yet. Please, please, please someone pester me about buying cookies.

It turns out, in my area, store front sales (called direct sales) don't start until March 23. I don't want to wait....the suspense is killing me.

I Stand Out on my Own Terms

I am a self-proclaimed karaoke junkie. I try to go once a week. And I used to be really good. Now I'm just good. I used to get the largest applause in the bard, now, I sometimes get applause if I have lots of friends there with me. My brother-in-law thinks this is because I've lost my passion for singing. I think he's right.

I also used to turn heads. I'm married and it's ok that I don't. But I'm vain and I miss it sometimes. I know, bad. But at least I'm honest about it. It could be that I've gained weight (I like to think that's not why and that everyone just knows I'm off the market. Yes, I do know almost everyone in the bar on the nights I go for karaoke). It kills me that I started meds to make me healthy and have gained close to 50lbs. If I have to choose between healthy and skinny, I choose being bigger and healthy. Larch is not so shallow as to leave me for my weight gain.

ANYWAYS...back to my karaoke habit.

I went out on Mardi Gras. Being as I don't normally take part in Lent and I'm not into flashing people other than my husband, I didn't realize it was Fat Tuesday until I got to the bar. It was pretty dead considering. It was also my favorite KJ, Sam's, birthday. (I normally make him cupcakes, but this year I forgot.)

Dead bar or not, I turned heads again. This time on my terms. I wore victory rolls and 1940's inspired blouse. And a large flower in my hair.  So what if most of the heads I turned were that of my friends, L and M, and my KJ Sam. I also caught the attention of a WWII vet, who came over just to tell how pretty I was, (blush) and how much he loved my hair. It reminded him of his youth.

I stood out because I choose to. I stood out because I looked like a women who would sing Billie Holiday songs (I did sing one, God Bless the Child). I didn't look like I was trying to hard to be hot, I didn't stand out for my mental illness. It didn't matter that I've noticeably gained weight. I didn't look like a frazzled mother of two preschoolers. I stood out because I choose to look vintage, and pretty. I got my passion back from the small boost of confidence.

And it felt really good to bring a man from  "the greatest generation" a memory and a smile.

Ten Things Tuesday--Derby Girl

Possible Name IF I Were Going to be a Derby Girl

My group leader at MOPS is a derby girl, and for the last couple months she has been telling me that I am too, I just don't know it yet.  The first time she said this, I came home and told my husband and he laughed. Then my brother-in-law, J.Z., came over and we started drinking and I beat up my sons punching bag. Then I forgot about it for a while.  Then I started on my vintage hair kick. I got a message via Facebook that I really am derby girl material. Still not so sure, but kinda toying with the idea now. Love the idea of new friendships, love the idea of the work out, not so sure about the bruises and the trip outside my comfort zone. I'm sure I would have a ton of fun. So, in the spirit of toying with the idea, I have asked my husband, his siblings, and other friends and family what they think my derby name would be IF I got over myself and stepped outside my comfort zone.  Here are seven.

Anita Str8jacket Ok this wasn't actually suggested by family, but it should have been since it fits me so perfectly. It was generated for me HERE.

Super8 This was chosen for me by my 4 year old son, Johnny. And he wants to be Super 7 and be my teammate. He also wanted to name his new baby cousin Pistol.

Madre Mayhem My sister-in-law, B, suggested this one. I kinda like it.

C!@# Commander My brother-in-law, J, suggested this....there are two options for the first word, neither of which I am willing to post un-encrypted on my blog. I will not be using this name if I get the guts up to be a Derby Girl.

Atomic Annie This was Larch's suggestion. I know as my husband he is excited about my new found interest in vintage hairstyles. He says it's so much better than my Punky Brewster look. This was his attempted at a 1940-esque name for me.

Breanna Wannalotta Payne my brother-in-law, JZ, came up with this one. Extra points for trying to use my real name.

Babe Ruthless My brother in law, B, came up with this one. I shot him down since it is the name the girl in Whip It uses. But he tried.

I know my lists are supposed to have 10 things (of course those are my rules so I can bend them), but after pestering my family, I only got 7 answers back. I'll gladly take suggestions from readers. Leave them below in the comments. I know you are all creative geniuses.

Redneck Saturday Night.

I suck at bowling. My high score out of three games was 81. I did, however, manage 2 strikes and a spare. No matter how badly I might bowl, the time I spending doing it is always so much fun. And the after party with all the siblings in law isn't bad either. Speaking of after party, I totally kicked butt at Scatergories, so I guess it's okay that I didn't do so great bowling.

Niece, I's foot, my foot, Sister-in-law B's foot.
Bowling shoes are totally stylin'.

Game 1. I'm the first B. yep. 75.

Again, I'm the top B. 81, High score of the night for me. Game 3 I didn't bother with, it was like 67. I really can't bowl.

How very redneck. Bowling and watching NASCAR. Yes we requested they change the channel so we could watch the  Budweiser Shootout.

My little Johnny, using a cool little contraption to bowl. He was so excited.

This Should Not Be Me, My Kids are Preschoolers

I've developed a really nasty habit. One I have GOT to break.  I realized today, I have started showering only once a week. And I am wearing the same clothes two and three days in a row. GROSS.

It is winter, so I'm not as active or sweaty, but really, this is so very very wrong. My children are 2 and 4 and my husband is home all the time right now. I have no reason to no shower. It's not even that I'm lazy. I just don't care. DOUBLE GROSS.  I am going to fix this.

I am now scheduling my showers. I have a husband at home; I don't have to wake up early or wait until nap time. I am going to plan a shower into my day the way I would plan a shopping trip or a lunch with a friend. I guess if the shower is hot enough, it is like a lunch date. I'm thinking Saturday morning (so my hair is a day old when I style it for church on Sunday), Monday night, and Thursday while Johnny is at preschool. I am not allowed to plan outings, doctors appointments, or anything else during this time. I cannot become THAT mom. I will be clean and well groomed. I will look like a together mom, even though I am tired and frazzled and overdue for a break.

Ten Things Tuesday--Valentines Day

Ten Things That Happened on February 14 That Have Nothing to Do with Cupid or Romance

I'm all for presents and attention from my husband on Valentine's Day. The hype of forced romance just because it is February 14 bothers me a little. My husband should romance me just because, not because the card, chocolate, and jewelry companies tell him to. So, instead of 10 things I wish my husband would do for me, I'm gonna give you ten non-romantic events that have occurred in the past.

In 1778, the United States Flag was offically recognized by a foreign naval vessel for the first time. French Admiral Picquet rendered a nine gun salute to the USS Ranger, under the command of Captain John Paul Jones, as it entered a French port. While looking for more information, I stumbled upon this blog http://boneinitsteeth.blogspot.com/2011/02/on-this-day-in-history-first-salute-to.html. If you would like more details on this event, check it out.

In 1859, Oregon was admitted as the 33rd U.S. state.

In 1912, Arizona was admitted as the 48th.

In 1919, United Parcel Service formed. AKA UPS. They actually originated in Seattle as American Messanger Service in 1907. February

Penicillin was mass produced by 1944.
This picture is in the public domain 
because it originally came from the 
National Institute of Health.

In 1929, the Saint Valentine's Day massacre occurred. Seven people were murdered in Chicago, IL. Six of them were gangster rivals of Al Capone's gang.

Also in 1929, Alexander Fleming introduced his mold by-product called penicillin to cure bacterial infections. Unless your children are allergic, you can thank him for ear infection relief.

In 1962, First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy gave a televised tour of the White House.

In 2000, the spacecraft NEAR Shoemaker entered orbit around asteroid 433 Eros. It is the first spacecraft to orbit an asteroid.

In 2003, Dolly the sheep - the first mammal cloned from an adult - was put to death at age 6 due to premature aging and disease aka incurable lung cancer.

And last year, in 2011, as a part of Arab spring, the 2011–2012 Bahraini uprising in the Persian Gulf country of Bahrain began.

I found a lot of "on this day in history" type information on wikipedia and history.com. It was a little more difficult than I thought it would be to pare it down to 10 facts. Take some time and check them out.

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

I will start by saying I love my kids and would never harm them no matter what I say in the next few paragraphs.

Sundays are normally relaxing, pleasant days around our house.  Football, baseball, or NASCAR plays on the TV, I sit in my chair crocheting or playing Angry Birds, the kids play with their toys or chase each other through the house. Sometimes we have family over and we talk and drink and generally have fun--or recover from the night before. This week, there was no football and NASCAR doesn't start till next week.  Somehow, between that and the house being uncharacteristically clean, the kids were lost. I put them upstairs to watch The Lion King (Lily's current favorite movie), and sat down to work on some future blog posts. BAD IDEA.

I went to the kitchen to get a snack and smelled nail polish. With fear and trembling I went upstairs. When I got to the top of the stairs, the kids were the ones experiencing fear and trembling.  I had finally learned to put all my makeup and hair gear in my latched makeup case.  Lily, who is fascinated with makeup, is not old enough or strong enough to open the latch. Despite this fact, my makeup case was open, everything was uncapped and spread all over. The air reeked of Moroccan hair oil, hairspray and nail polish. Johnny's eyes were as wide as saucers. He knew he was in trouble. I was livid.

Johnny admitted to opening the case for Lily. And to helping make the mess. He had painted his entire hands with nail polish, helped to cover my folding chair with lipstick and who knows what else. I swore loudly and marched Johnny out to the shop to work off the $30 of products he had helped to destroy: three lipsticks, a brand new foundation, and entire bottle of Moroccan oil, two bottles of nail polish, half a jar of face powder, and three tubes of lip gloss. I then went upstairs to clean up.

It took me 30 minutes to clean it all up. Johnny was told if he touched anything on my makeup table again he would not be allowed to go to his 100 days of school party Monday, and that if Lily touched anything he was to come and get me immediately. I went outside to smoke a cigarette (yes, yes, I have quit, but sometimes you just need one) and cool down. I was finally ready to face my kids, so Larch and I came inside.

I walked into the kitchen, covered my eyes and said "Larch, you deal with this, you just take this one, I'm done."

Both kids were sitting on the counter. The kitchen floor was covered in 2 or 3 banana peels and a dozen (yes a whole dozen, count them 12) broken eggs. Johnny said Lily threw all the eggs. I believe him. The last time he threw eggs, I threatened to hurt him, then we drove to grandmas, and I started treatment for my BPD.

Larch is so awesome. He set the kids in timeout (Johnny paused on his way to timeout to ask me why I was crying), cleaned up the eggs, and allowed me to order pizza instead of cooking. I could not have asked for a more understanding husband. With a smile on his face, he even asked after the makeup incident if I was going to kill the kids.  And laughed when I answered "No. I want to, but I won't."

Who Spends an Hour and a Half Fixing Their Hair?

I finally have my own laptop. (Thank you to my sister, A, for that). I am no longer trying to run this blog from my smartphone. It wasn't impossible, just very frustrating and time consuming trying to type on that teeny tiny little smartphone keyboard. So in someways, my own laptop is a good thing.

My own laptop may not be so great in others.  I have discovered hair and make-up tutorials on YouTube.

Before leaving for karaoke.

It started innocently enough.  I have been listening to Billie Holiday in my car for a while now. It's the only CD I have in there, and sometimes the radio just plays one stupid song after the other. Also, Larch really likes war movies. Any war really, but we seem to watch a lot of WWII movies since I think they have better stories outside the shooting and the flying and the blowing up. So, there has always been a passing interest in the 1940s. (Sometime day I'll post a blog about the coolest date night I've ever planned).

After getting home, but before going to bed.

Monday, ABC's Castle air an episode titled The Blue Butterfly (click HERE to watch it). Half the episode takes place in 1946 and '47 in a Irish mobster owned night club. Passing interest has now transformed into temporary obsession.  My Pandora radio is now playing a station seeded with Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, and Luis Armstrong.  I wanted 1940s hair to go sing these classics at karaoke.

Enter hair tutorials on YouTube.  I really needed help. I didn't even know where to start. I found two that I really liked. This one is a two part video that covers that sort of everyday rolled back up-do sort of look. You know, the one the nurses all wear at work in those WWII videos.  The other one is really 16 tutorial videos covering everything from bombshell curls and make up to Rosie Riveter to Victory Rolls. I haven't tried the Victory Rolls yet, but I'm super excited to try them. (I'm waiting on a 1" curling iron. I dropped the hint that maybe this would be better than flowers for Valentines day).

So, last night, for karaoke, I attempted a 1940s look.
It took an hour and a half. My arms hurt, my feet hurt, and I burned the top of my ear. But I was so proud of myself. And the really awesome part: my hair holds curl really well. I woke up this morning and still had an amazing mount of curl left. I ran a pick through it and it still looks good. And my make-up was still on. I could have rolled out of bed, thrown on clothes and gone for a job interview. I didn't. I threw on clothes and took Johnny to pre-school. I sang along with Billie Holiday the whole way.

Don't Spit in the Peanut Butter

I'm starting something new this week. 10 Things Tuesdays. I really like making lists, so I'm gonna share them with you, 10 items at a time.
First up, 10 things I never thought I would ever say to my kids.

"Don't spit in the peanut butter jar."

"Don't drink the mustard."
"Yes, you have to. Everyone must wear pants at the dinner table."
"Don't bite the cat."
"You cannot have a peanut butter and syrup sandwich for breakfast. Or lunch. Or ever."
"I can't pull over right now. Your choices are to pee in a cup or pee in your pants" (for the record, he peed in the cup).
"No you can't help me shave my legs"
"That's not candy, it's toilet cleaner. Don't eat things from the bathroom." (Poison control says in small amounts Scrubbing Bubbles toilet bowl stamps are not harmful in small quantities, but don't let Lily eat anymore).
" Ohh my god, the cat peed on Lily's head" (said cat is no longer allowed inside over night).
"No you can't play x box, mommy's watching sesame street."
And a bonus for week one.
" I promise the bird poop missed your head."
What about you? What has come forth from your mouth that you never would have ever pictured yourself saying.

Giant Vulture Poop!

I was on twitter and came upon this tweet
If a bird shits on your head, you're lucky. If a human does it, you're a German porn star. -- PaxPaxochka (@Paxochka)
I found this very amusing. Partly, because I am not a lady like my mother tried to raise me into. And partly, because it made me think of my son.
Last September,Johnny, Lily and I went to New Mexico for my grandpa's 85th birthday party/family reunion. So much fun.
Because here, in North Idaho, the closest zoo is 8 hours away, I took advantage of the Albuquerque zoo and took my children to see all the animals.
We were in the birds of prey section, there was this bridge. The large vultures were able to perch on branches above the bridge. It was obvious you needed to cross with caution from all the bird poop on the ground. Just as my mother and I commented on this, one of the giant vultures dropped a turd 2 inches from Johnny.
I wish I could have gotten a picture of the look on Johnny's face. I have never seen him so freaked out. I don't have a picture because I chose that moment to be a good mom and reassure him. It took 2 or 3 minutes to convince him the poo did not land on his head.
They might say, if a bird pooped on your head you're lucky, but I am so glad this one missed.