Journal Less -- Blog More

Just the other day I was writing a blog post, and I started thinking about how my life could be broken down into three basic segments:

1. The Diary Years
2. The Journal Years
3. The Blogging Years

Like so many young girls, I kept a diary ... one of those with the pink padded fabric, adorned with flowers or butterflies. Complete with the little silver  lock and key. Inside, the pink padded covers, the pages contained all my inner most, deepest thoughts. Mostly about BOYS. I was undoubtedly boy crazy, much to my father's dismay. Luckily, I outgrew my fascination with boys, much to my father's relief. I do find it a bit ironic that I'm now raising two boys of my own. I'm sure my father has thoughts on that too, but graciously keeps them to himself.

The next phase was my journaling years. As a young adult, I kept a leather-bound journal containing snippets of what was going on in my life at that time. It helped me to make sense of the world around me, as I waded through first jobs, settling into married life, figuring out how to be an adult. But, mostly, it's where I poured my heart out about the unexpected death of my mother. My journal was where I worked through the mountainous pile of emotions brought on by grief. My journal was my therapist. It helped me come to terms with her death, which was a pivotal point in my life. Her death has definitely shaped and defined much of my life since.

Then as I entered my forties, my journal became a web log. Then just a blog. Over the past five years I've been busy raising a family, so I haven't been blogging consistently. However, now that my boys are five and almost four, I find that my arms and hands aren't as busy holding babies, changing diapers, removing fiery, tantrum throwing toddlers from public view; therefore, I'm able to devout a bit more time to it. The biggest change is that the diaries and journals were private in nature, and the blog is public.

I've been privately blogging for a little over a year now. Bill tells me that since I blog, in private, it's really more of a journal - a web based journal. I tell him to mind his business, and stop snooping over my shoulder. I'm just a girl, a wife and mother, trying to find her inner writer's voice. You know, before I go all public and stuff.

Before this blog, I had started a couple of other blogs, but can't remember the names or even locate them on the WWW anymore. I've changed the name, design and content of my current blog many times. I'm almost ready to come out of the blog closet, and share the link  to my blog, but not today. Today, I'm busy trying to hone my writing skills. You know, before I go all public and stuff.

And currently my new mantra is: Journal Less - Blog More!

Not So Spontaneous Valentine's Day Lunches

But ughhh ... again with the rain, I don't like it. Sunshine is my drug. I'm an addict. It gives me a natural high. I can't help but smile and feel good on sunny days. Gloomy, overcast days put me in a funk.

I called my walking partner, on this wet, dreary Valentine's Day to cancel our Tuesday morning walk, but she talked me into taking an umbrella and going anyway. So we did. That's the great thing about an exercise partner, they hold you accountable and talk you into it when you are making excuses. As we were walking along, chatting, trying to skip water puddles and taking turns holding her massive umbrella I started to think about how Bill and I have fallen into a bit of a romantic slump. This is mostly my fault. I'm not the most romantic person. He asked what I wanted for Valentine's Day, I said nothing. I think it's just a commercialized holiday without any real value behind it. Now how unromantic does that sound? So during my walk, I decided I would call him and make a lunch date. I would drive downtown to meet him .. and we could sneak away for a nice little lunch ... boys are in school on Tues/Thurs, so this is a great opportunity to surprise him! And just as I was about to tell my walking partner my big plans, a red truck pulls up beside us, and the builder of our house sticks his head asking if he can swing by to do some of the repairs on our list ... well, dang, what to do now? That would mean no romantic Valentine's Day lunch. I told the builder to swing by and start working on the list. That's the practical, not so romantic, side of me coming through!

Once I get back home, Bill texts me to ask what I'm doing (which he rarely does) then I realize he's probably going to suggest lunch as well! Well, of course, I instantly felt bad. The builder, and two of his helpers, had just pulled in, and I doubted they'd finish in time for me to meet Bill and get back to pick the boys up at 2:30pm. Especially since part of the to do list was in our bathroom, and I hadn't showered yet. My hair was a bit damp from the rain, as well. The rain and my curly locks do not mix well .. it's a frizz fest when the two meet.

The builder left at 11:40, so I thought about scrambling into the shower and trying to get ready, or maybe just forgo the shower altogether, but I'd still need to change and freshen up at least a little. Bill and I decided, over a few texts, that we'd postpone our Valentine's lunch date until Thursday. That's the practical side of us both!

He did come home with 4 cupcakes to share with us, and I had cooked a nice dinner, which included roast pork, roasted potatoes and roasted green beans. All in all, it was a lovely little Valentine's Day, and spent just the way it should be .. understated and with the ones you love.

Traffic Violations

Oh you can bet that I was just a little shocked when we received this in the mail ...

And, just the other day I was thinking, to myself, how I hadn't had any traffic violations since moving to the USA. Well, except for that one other time I accidentally ran a red light and scuffed the bumper of another driver. But, can that really count against me, since the gentleman driving the other car didn't realize I had "rubbed his bumper" and he kept driving? I tried to chase him down . I Followed him to a parking lot - I wanted to confess my sin - but, he just pulled out of his parking spot as I was running after him, and I mean literally running after him. I left my then 6-month-old and 2-year-old in the car to run after him .. waving my hands and yelling "Please Mr. Please .. STOP, I think I scuffed your front bumper." He didn't notice me. I just stood there watching his taillights disappear, as he drove off. I immediately ran back to my car, jumped in and drove to the police station to turn myself in. The officer, on duty, was so nice .. and he was totally confused as to why I was there turning myself in if the other person didn't even know he had been hit. His exact words to me were, "Well, Mrs. Sitton, I'm not sure how to fill out the paperwork in this instance. Usually it's the other person coming in to report it, not the actual perp." Well, OK, maybe he didn't use the actual term "perp", but heck I like using "perp" whenever I can! Anyway, I filed my report, but no one ever ever came in to report it, so the case was closed after two weeks.

Now, in the case pictured above, I really thought the light was yellow, and THOUGHT it had turned red as I was going through the intersection, but according to the violation they sent me, which is shown above, it was in fact RED. OOOOOOPS .. My BAD!

Even though Bill's name appears on the violation, it was without a doubt me behind the wheel. When I first opened it and realized what it was, I immediately checked the date on the calendar. January 31st at 2:17 pm. That would be a Tuesday, and the boys get out of school at 2:30, so I was obviously on my way to pick them up.

There is something a bit startling about opening up a piece of mail and seeing your vehicle pictured there .. even more startling when you realize it's you running a red light .. I felt violated by the paper violation!

Luckily, in this case, no one was hurt. I really didn't intentionally run the red light, and do my best to follow the traffic laws. This is a good lesson for me. I need to pay closer attention when behind the wheel. There is always room for improvement!

Anyone else have one of these things arrive by mail?

Diaperless Bags

I am diaper bag FREE! I feel liberated and a couple of pounds lighter! For 5.5 years a diaper bag was my companion. The next best thing to a BFF. I did make the transition from a traditional diaper bag to a more fashionable tote/bag a couple of years ago, but the contents remained the same. My tote, or bag, was full of extra undies, socks, snacks, drinks & hot wheels. Because, let's face it, mother's of boys are required to carry around various types of wheels--you know, in case of a Hot Wheel emergency!

My new VB Hipster in Night and Day.

Today, I'm sporting a more trendy Vera Bradley Hipster! A Christmas present to myself. I love the versatility of the hipster, and honestly, I totally dig the hipster name! Yes, I realize that using the words "hip" and "dig" date me ... but, that's OK, I'm predisposed to this type of language. I can't help it. I don't want to help it. I'm the product of a late 1960's love making session, baby! So, really, I am just staying true to my conceptual roots. And now I'm bopping around, in my chair, with the lyrics to Bob Seger's "Night Moves" going on in my head.

My bag may be "diaper free" but I still have preschool boys and sometimes I need my hands free to help with various things, so the hipster really works. I realize that other moms are more into Coach bags and such, but there is something about the Vera Bradley line that really speaks to me. Just a ringing endorsement there, not paid!

But, whatever the label on my bag, I'm just glad to have it free of diapers ... and fruit snacks and little boy undies. Of course, if I dig deep enough, I'm sure I'll still come across a Hot Wheel or two ... maybe I'm not totally ready to have a bag all of my own .. maybe hot-wheel-free bags aren't "all that."

Hot Sudsy Laundry Confessions

It's crazy, I know, but I need to profess how much I love, love, love my fancy new washer and dryer. I can't even seem to put it into words. I rub them down, shine them up .. stop to admire them. The best looking set of twins EVER! I should mention, this is my first new set of laundry machines that I've owned. All the ones before this were previously owned. Sloppy seconds or maybe even thirds. So, the shiny newness of these two have me weak at the knees. It may even have something to do with the six, excruciatingly long months I spent at the laundromat, while we were living in the apartment, after first moving here.

Bill, being the trooper (or sucker) that he is, went with me for the first few trips to the laundromat. I felt so out of place, and I even said to him, with tears stinging my eyes, "I don't belong in the laundromat." He just chuckled and said, "No one does, honey." Then went on to tell me how even though the laundromat sucked, there was something to be said for how fast you could get it all done. Six washers going, then six dyers .. and then viola .. 1.5 hours later you have your week's laundry done. I just rolled my eyes .. what part of "I DON'T BELONG IN THE DAMN LAUNDROMAT" didn't he get????

I felt completely overwhelmed, and not just because of the mountain of laundry that we had to haul in there, but the washers were all front loaders, so I couldn't tell the washers from the dryers. I wasn't exactly sure how, or where, to add the detergent .. or the coins. Then if the place was busy there was the jockeying for a folding table .. oh the madness of it all! I was truly in laundry HELL.

Washer

After six months of renting here in Knoxville, our house back in KS sold, so we were able to buy a house here. Oh yes, you can bet that I was counting the number of weeks I had left at the laundromat. Finally, two weeks before we were set to close on our new house, we went shopping for a new washer and dryer. I have never been so excited over laundry machines in my life. Of course, I went over board on the purchase, but heck after enduring the laundromat for 6 months I more than deserved the fancy schmancy set! At least that's what I kept telling myself, and Bill let me have my pick.

Matching Dryer

 In the end, I think the purchase has paid off, since I rarely fall behind on laundry anymore. It's the one household chore that I'm usually on top off. In fact, I am doing laundry right now while writing this blog post! The low, quiet hum of the washer located on the other side of the wall, from my computer, makes for the perfect white, pink or brown  noise ( I'm not sure which)  .. to lull my brain while writing.  Whenever I do find myself grumbling about doing laundry, I take myself back to the "laundromat days" and I pretty quickly get over my laundry funk.

The Developer

Lately, I've been thinking about colouring my hair. The grays are starting to get out of control. Initially, I was hoping that I could just let nature take its course, and allow myself to age gracefully, without artificial intervention. But, I'm vain dammit! I don't want all this sporadic gray hair, so I set out to do something about it. In a budget friendly sort of way, of course. I am , after all, a SAHM on a tight budget! So, while at Target today ( I spend way too much time and money at Target!) I picked up a box of L'OREAL hair color which promised to cover those pesky grays. Once I arrived back home, I ran to the bathroom ready to tackle this hair coloring thing head on. I haven't colored my hair in a long time. Probably not since having children. Pre-children, I used to have my hair highlighted professionally. You know, back in the day when I was working and had a little extra money for pampering. Not that I'm blaming my boys for my gray hair, lack of disposable income, or anything.

Once settled in the bathroom, with my box of conceitedness, I briefly read the instructions, while thinking to myself that I should really slow down and read them thoroughly. But, hey, I was in a rush and excited to be rid of the gray strands once and for all!!! I read "Option B" which is for a full head application if you have never coloured your hair..and decided yes, that was me! So, I pulled out the Protective Creme Developer and began to "apply it all over" just as it read in the instructions. I could almost see those grays fading away with each stroke, and I was stoked! The entire bottle was empty, and my hair was "saturated" just as the instructions had stated, so now I had thirty minutes to wait until rinsing it out ... twiddly dee, twiddly dum, what to do now?

The culprit .. vanity in a box.

This seemed to be the perfect opportunity to dump out the remaining contents of the box and see what they were all about. I had been assuming the protective conditioner, which was mentioned in the instruction pamphlet, was in there. I did pull out the conditioner, and then I noticed a tube that read "protective color creme." YIKES-- it hit me! This meant I wasn't actually "colouring" my hair. I had just applied the "developer" and I wasn't exactly sure what the developer, without the added colour, was going to do to my hair. I immediately ran to the shower, turned it on, and began to frantically get out of my clothes .. I needed to wash this developer out of my freaking hair before it turned neon orange or something! I jumped into the cold shower with my undies still on, totally panicking. What on earth was I doing applying hair colour without reading the entire insert first? What part of "read the enclosed instructions carefully" didn't I freaking understand??? I deserved whatever bizarre hair colour I ended up with! Trying to pull off my wet undergarments, in the shower, proved to be a chore in itself .. and I was praying... please don't let me fall and break a hip or end up with some sort of outlandish hair colour. This I decided, is what one gets for being vain!! This is my punishment!

Once I had shampooed and conditioned my hair multiple times, I got out of the shower and began drying my locks with great trepidation .. squinting and peering to see if it was still the same gray streaked hair .. and lo and behold it was! YAY!! I'm not sure if I'll be brave enough to tackle home colouring again .. maybe some things are better left to the professionals.

Anyone else have an amusing hair colouring story?