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Well, it’s very chilly- currently 58 but should get down to 47 tonight, which has been typical these last few weeks. The sky is still clear and the grass dry, so its definitely Fall weather. During our frequent walks down to the Fremont Wild Oats area, (stop at Cafe Destino for soup, run some errands around Wild Oats-mail something out, pick up rice milk-,then onto the library to see what movies have been returned, so on), we were able today to pick up acorns and bright purple and yellow leaves: the first bits of Autumn inviting us to collect and admire.

I never share much about the specifics of my marriage or finances or relatives, etc, but I wanted to write today about our recent goals of getting out of debt, saving, financial freedom. Like many young parents, esp in college, we used credit cards to keep us afloat through our years of less than 30,000 combined (at least 4 years of our 5 year marriage), and in the end we ended up with a large amount of debt. We now pay minimum payments towards debt reduction that totals 25% of our monthly income, and about half of it is high interest cards (some student loans, some personal loans). At last Hubby has found work and is now working 2 jobs for us to recover from the move and unemployment of this past summer, and we have been struck with the conviction that we must get a handle on it while we are finally making a little income. Through a dear friend of mine, we were able to apply for a credit counseling service that does the one monthly, low interest payment type of thing. It turns out this will be incredibly helpful, reducing our minimum payments and, because we are “friends and family” we have no fees whatsoever. Because we are saving so much that would have been eaten up in high interest, we can put extra on our monthly payments and get out of debt sooner. Not including student loans, it will take us 4 years, max. Incredible, isn’t it? (Incredible as in- audacious, unbelievable, inconceivable- that a young couple with college education would spend the next 4 years climbing out of consumer debt.) Ah, America- delicious consumer market dream-turned-nightmare. With a little bail-out from friends or family here and there, we have managed to pay our bills when they are due and stay afloat, but barely.

Simultaneously, we tried to go to Imago Dei (our church) Financial Peace University, and although we found the 4 hours on Sunday morning to be a little long for our family day, in the end there are some sunday school conflicts with having children in both services so we have opted to continue educating ourselves and try to go without FPU at this time. In the meantime, I’ve paid my very last overdraft fee for a large corporate bank that cares SQUAT for the little guy, and have opened a savings and checking account with an internet bank, ING Direct. With them, there are never NSF fees (because of the automatic line of credit opened in case this happens) and the interest earned on the savings is 4.3 and on checking, 3.8 (for the balance we have in there, if you have more balance, you earn more). Then I grabbed a home budget tool off Kiplinger.com and with as liberal and comfortable figures as I could apply to each expenditure, including tithing (charitable/giving) and saving (automatically out of each paycheck and into that 4.8% savings account) combined 20+% of our income, we should still have $400 dollars a month left over.

This is where I just can’t believe it. With spending money, haircut money, every little thing accounted for, we should still have $400 lying around some where at the end of every month. Now, granted, our income has only been double in the last month, so September has been more like damage control month than starting your goals month. However, this was such an eye opener that I must track where our money is going and use the darn ENVELOPES and CASH like every thing I’ve ever read has said to do. If we truly have left over after tithing, saving, bills, debt, and even renting movies and drinking Starbucks here and there (budgeted for, using cash), then I will be floored. It means that when friends need funding for a missions or we feel called to give some other way, we actually CAN. It means if we need to visit family in Florida once a year, we can save this and actually buy the tickets. It’s just crazy.

I also worked out how we will save that emergency fund of 3 months worth of income (min.) by the end of 2008 using the compound interest in our savings account along with automatic transfers off the top of every paycheck into savings. One year, no surprises, we could actually have our emergency fund filled. This has never, I repeat NEVER, appeared possible for us. I’ve read books before, Suzie Orman and who nots, we’ve done coupons and budgets and snowball effect and bla bla, but for some reason or another- nothing really worked. Yet I’m very hopeful that discipline this time around will stick.

Discipline: the word brings definite negative connotation to my spirit. Perhaps by a church (shoot, an entire sub-culture of Christianity) that defined discipline for me for so long as the “walk the straight and narrow” road of a “disciple”. Read your bible and pray for hours, don’t do anything “wrong” (including kiss your husband before marriage, lol- which I was NOT able to abide!), so on. It took the joy out of living and created a sense of shame at every inkling of rebellion and questioning. When I was involved at a Presbyterian church in Lakeland, the emphasis was the opposite- there is NO mold, it messaged, your identity is in Him. The rules and rituals were not glorified, in fact maybe they were in some ways looked down upon, particularly if done with a heart that was trying to please God, to be enough for God, so God would approve or love you more. It was a great blessing to be around those who practiced unconditional love and extended grace in a very real way. But still, I came to see discipline as “legalistic” and shunned daily practices or boxes to squeeze into.

But I came across this quote, which I ironically wrote in my journal some time ago and had since completely forgotten, from Henri Nouwen, Catholic priest and writer:

“In the spiritual life, the word discipline means ‘the effort to create some space in which God can act.’ Discipline means to prevent everything in your life from being filled up. Discipline means that some where you are not occupied, and certainly not preoccupied. In the spiritual life, discipline means to create that space in which something can happen that you hadn’t planned or counted on.” (italics/bold added)

It struck me that in the regards to finances, discipline can be viewed much the same way. Discipline on how you spend and where your money goes creates ROOM, it means your cup is not completely dry, that you aren’t sucking the drops off the coffee table and paying high interest on your imbalance. It means you have SPACE in which “something can happen that you hadn’t planned or counted on”- another pregnancy, a broken leg, a family vacation you never thought you could take, a way to give to some one in need.

So, although this has become a slightly longer post than I intended, I have a feeling my journey with money and debt and spiritual applications could be useful to some of you, so I share in hopes it helps

Well, its been a week since I wrote last- crazy huh? Even Hubby had gotten used to checking in on me here, and has been wondering what the heck is wrong with me- no new content day after day!

I’ve been workin and such lately- oh and finished that book. In the end I really liked it still, so I’ll share that it was As If Love Were Enough. Now I’m reading The Year of Magical Thinking, (Joan Didion) and am enjoying that to, although very differently.

Hubby and I finally got out on a date night last night- we saw Broken English at Living Room Theaters (LOVE that place- and they make a mean Spanish Coffee Cocktail too!) then we meandered around the Pearl and found our way into a little cocktail lounge called District. We liked the atmosphere and in all had a great evening, ending it in a nice bubble bath in our claw foot tub (kept meaning to try that but haven’t gotten around to it yet). Well, that’s not exactly where we ended the evening but that’s going beyond pg-13 at that point. (TMI? Hey, you’re at Mama Need Java, what do you expect?!)

I’ve got some pics to upload one of these days, but my laptop is not reading my digital card. I think its due to the vista OS, but I’m not sure. Sometimes the drives aren’t recognized, built in webcam won’t work, things like that.

Well, potato leek soup is simmerin on the stove and Hubby has another evening off, so I’m going to get to dinner and write more later in the week. Just wanted to make sure it was clear that I didn’t drop of the face of the earth!

This morning, my day seemed to lay out before me as an open stretch resembling much too closely the day before, and the day before that, and so on. A little down, a little predictable argument with Hubby here and there, a little inevitable exasperation with Lil’ E from time to time…

Instead, I might have found my voice, for now, for this time, for me -right here, today. (insert post title here.)

Loving a book I didn’t think much of- turning out to be an unexpected page turner with wonderful ties to northern city-life verses suburbs outside of Orlando, with humanist vs. christian topics and Swaggart-christian vs. Christ-Christian topics and family vs. mistress to a married lover topics and suffice to say that so far, I’m not putting it down, which I’ve done with lots of books lately. All from a little fiction, Oprah book club novel… (insert post title here.)

Depression turned to elation when Hubby up and started dinner today- (this, folks, is a rarity of the Hailey’s Comet proportion)- and no, he did not opt for the tempting box of organic “maccy cheese”- he seared chicken breast, marinated in pinot noir vinegar and seasonings, with sides of corn on the cob and brussel sprouts. Like, woah! Now he is totally up against the wall, as they say, because this little known fact as to his cooking abilities has gotten him out of dinner duty for half a decade- not so, anymore! (Although, I did completely forget our rule about cooking and dishes, so this means that I do have to start dirtying my hands with dishes on the nights he cooks. Aaaaalways strings attached, I tell ya.) (Insert post title here.)

Totally a skipper today, in one way, not to dwelve into at this time. Let’s just say something about “learning how to read the bible” was like the last thing I wanted to do today. The bible being, to me, what it is. Anyway. Nuf or not Nuf Said, either way, I’m dun sayin it.

Ok, time to go play Tetris with Hubby. (Insert post title one last time.)

That’s what life feels like for me lately. It seems I should be a little further along sometimes, having gotten my “edumacation”, being married for nearly 5 years, a mommy for 2+pregnancy, working, bla bla bla- those should surely qualify me for a self-titled “intermediate”, right? Instead I feel in so many ways as though life has just begun. As though my lungs are crushing with the weight of my first breath of oxygen: I know nothing.

Yep, the lovely twenties, full blown in effect.

One of my many humble philosophies on life is sort of a “mind over matter” one- with regards to vices, depression, stress, so forth. Though I must have a zillion crutches that I don’t even think about or consider them as such, the ones I recognize I typically do away with rather quickly. Example- if I notice I’m using wine to “relax” too often, I’ll begin to formulate a different way to relax that is healthier, no side effects, etc etc. Aromatherapy, massage, yoga, whatever. I even considered recently the homeopathic medicinal value of herbs such as St. John’s Wort or Kava, though in the end even those had side effects I’d rather not deal with, not to mention that you cannot be on them while pregnant or nursing and that chapter of my life isn’t exactly over yet, so might as well not even get started on the treatment.

Side note: I recently read an article in a parenting e-zine where the writer and mother of the story confessed that she turned her weekend vice of smoking a little weed while her son is not around into a “one hitter” commonality whenever she needed to “get through the day” with her son. I wanted to scream at such stupidity, especially as nearly every single comment (there were over 80) to the on-line article went back and forth between arguing about the legality of pot or the irresponsibility of the mom while she is the care-giver for a young child, etc etc. While all those arguments are interesting, I felt like they really missed the point. Why not get to the deeper issue (IMHO) and learn to deal with your stress and anxiety as a mother without “mother’s little helpers” at all? Perhaps such levels of annoyance indicate a major change needs to happen, as in, more sleep, better diet, a little exercising, prayer (yikes, touchy subject!) or even counseling. I also feel, (though this opinion might get me stoned), that too many (esp mothers) turn quickly to the latest prescription drug for helping them cope BEFORE giving the aforementioned suggestions a hearty attempt. (Okay, that’s all I’ll say now about my extreme skepticism of allopathic medicine! Another day, another post)

As for me, I “confess” that I can fall into mild feelings of lethargy, depression, anxiety or what have you, certain circumstances trigger it more than others of course. I can tell when I want to “hide” that the cloud is over me. Luckily, it rarely effects my ability to fulfill responsibilities, although it does make doing them more difficult. Anyhow, this all to say that I am sort of in one of these periods lately and have the foreboding feeling that it hasn’t even completely run its course yet (it’s only the beginning!)- with upcoming cold, sunless, rainy days of Portland’s winter ahead, the holidays without friends and family around, hubby working double shifts nearly every day, and my only “hey, let’s go chill” friend starting a full-time job and having her mom come live with her, all of this seems to be indicators to me lately that I’ve got to catch this mood at the beginning and prepare for the “dark night of the soul” that could be quite lonely if I don’t proceed carefully.

This post has taken a slight detour from its original “I might finally know that I don’t know anything” but trust me, its all related!

So I’m open to anything, bar substance abuse, traditional Western medicine, lol, and perhaps some others things I haven’t thought of, to help me trudge along this phase with a deeply joyful heart. I have absolute assurance that this won’t happen without a much greater awareness of the daily conversation God is having with me, and perhaps I could even try responding more often in prayer instead of avoidance. From there, I’ve got to start reading some good books, doing my yoga again, and making sure my oil burner is always going with lavender, chamomile, and clary sage. Another tip: avoid too much refined sugars, alcohol and caffeine (yes, even here at “mama NEED java” we can all agree on the “too much of a good thing” factor )

If any one else can relate to what I’ve just shared, here’s a toast to your journey onward. To the other’s, I apologize for wasting your time on a very Vivian-centered subject (esp since my last post was one too!) and promise to upload a great movie tomorrow of Ethan singing songs.

What do these three have in common?

Not much, except that’s what I’ve been up to these past few days; Planting some cool season crops as the first chilly, rainy weather has graced us with its presence for a short time. I wanted to not miss the planting season since I realllly missed it last time and had pretty much zero Fall harvest to celebrate, except apples, figs, and raspberries which were already here. So finally I’ve got the veg beds up to par and have some soft, composted dirt to work with, and planted broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage variety starters this weekend. I’m trying to get the lettuce in the ground as well. I uncovered a bunch of bulbs, some kind of flower, as well as some onions, so Misty and I will be working our way around the yard to find the best place for these for next Spring, along with some bulbs of tulips I just can’t wait til those flower! We’ve got plans for some garlic varieties to put in the ground next month, (which is excited because, you know, I’m Cajun and all, and we could eat garlic like apples- the more the better as far as I’m concerned!) For color, I’ve thrown winter Pansies around, as a flower bed border as well as some in pretty pots. The yard is really starting to shape up and it makes for such a nice place to spend time in now- not the overgrown, unorganized spider jungle we faced a month ago!

On a Lil’ E note, I’ve had some luck curbing his tantrums with less punishment after the fact and more reward/distraction as the tantrum first sets in- what is he so excited about that he’ll do almost anything for? The promise of a sticker on his hand when we get home. Yep. That’s all, and he’ll slow his crying and between sobs mutter, “[I’ll be a] good boy” and “Star on my hand” etc. Now, I know enough about the most common parenting philosophies out there to know that a system of punishment/reward is usually not considered “ideal”- but I really find that he is more or less distracted by the idea of the sticker, and simultaneously sees it as a symbol of a self-affirming “good boy” behavior which he recognizes as favorable compared to, obviously, time out. I think the key is to continuously remind him that he is loved unconditionally and a “good boy” no matter what, but that his behavior can either have good or bad consequences. I haven’t had to do a time out or punishment in a few days, which is amazing when you think that 4 weeks ago I was spankin that bottom from sun up to sun down! He still gets overly hands-on and excited when allowed free play with other kids, and often shows off with defiant behavior, which is extra difficult to deal with because of the other parent’s involved or patrons at a store or whatever- why is it so much harder to parent firmly and patiently when you feel eyes on you? Maybe its just me. But anyway, I also know this is a product of needing a social outlet with kids his own age, to learn to share, not hit, not throw, bla bla bla, so I think it is its own inevitable cure. Practice, practice, practice. I just tell myself that one day he’ll be a charming gentlemen with amazing social skills, lol!

Lastly, I started reading St. Francis of Assisi by G.K.Chesterson and I’m finding this guy way more interesting than I expected- and a certain kinship to some of his loves and struggles, I must say. Though I don’t have stigmata or anything

Oh- and as a total P.S.- Hubby finally got a job he likes, full-time, decent pay, daytime hours, etc etc. He will continue working part-time evenings at Wild Oats for awhile until we’ve caught up a little bit more, but at last he’s got something he is looking forward to (has been looking since mid-May when we moved here)! He gets up at 6:30 tomorrow morning to head out for his first day, and I can hardly curb my enthusiasm, its the lightest I’ve felt in like 6 months. Not just for financial reasons but a myriad of them. So… yay!

People, I tell ya, I’m really climbing the ranks of world’s most clumsy/forgetful/absent minded mother on the planet.

My sister always says when things go just plain wrong over and over that “mars is in retrograde”. I’ve since been blaming mars daily for my faux pas.

Allow me to bring you a little comic relief:

Yesterday the fam and I were headed out for some errands, and since I had barely looked in the mirror all day I decided to slick down my poof (oh, gosh, that’s a whole other story, by the way) with some gel.

I’ve been on a real energy saving kick lately, like stringing up my wet laundry rather than use the dryer and not wanting to turn on the lights if I can help it. So with a little light coming in from the bathroom window I figured I could see pretty well. I opened up the medicine cabinet and grabbed the gel, which is in a can, that Bed Head kind I think, (it’s really my Hubby’s, I don’t like the stuff much, but back to the story)…

After application of said gel, I walked to the bedroom passing the view of the living room, where Hubby sat on the couch.

(Chuckles heard coming from couch)

“Babe, what’s in your hair?”

“Gel,” (duh) “Why?”

“Why is it white?”

… slowly the pieces fall back into place… the bathroom… the dim lighting… the can of…. of… NO, it can’t be… the can of SHAVING CREAM!

Thank GAWD I did not head out into the world with shaving cream streaked all over my head!!!

Needless to say, I quickly doubled over to wash my hair in the tub while we laughed so hard our bellies hurt.

When Hubby shared the story with his mom, she wasn’t the least bit surprised: “she’s a mom.”

I’ve had some pervasive thoughts lately, regarding time and waste, primarily.

And you are forewarned: this is a rant.

As I shared previously, I’ve been reading into some Waldorf-ish child development stuff lately, and I’m beginning to wonder if some how or another I am reclaiming my own childhood, values, virtues, principles, creativity, thought-life, and so on. Whether its regarding “seasons” I rarely experienced growing up in south Florida, songs and rhymes with motions I had long forgotten,  or childhood experiences I was enriched and blessed by my father’s insistence on playing outdoors with the good ol’ earth and sun and tree house- how EASY it is to become a regular American girl who puts a gazillion Baby Einstien DVD’s on her baby registry and sets out to pace her own family in the ideals of this consumer country with little thought to the down right twisted circle of it all.

I don’t remember a lot of cartoons from my early childhood. I half way remember enjoying Pee Wee’s Playhouse on Saturday mornings through a fuzzy screen of a small, rabbit eared TV in our one bedroom apartment on the Peace River. But I do remember the activities, the games my brother and I created and played with neighboring children in backyard’s and at the marina’s edge. I remember all kinds of “natural” things that thrilled me, down to singing the “Our Father” with my dad when I went to sleep. I read books and colored a hundred times more than I watched tv or movies, that’s for sure. My brother and I made a game out of spelling long words (”perpendicular” was my favorite!) or counting to one hundred when I was just starting grade school. By the time I was in kindergarten, I distinctly recall my frustration that the majority of the other children could not read a simple book or color in the lines or cut out a pattern.

And I don’t know why this was; I don’t know how much tv they watched or what type of parents they had or if we were just plan ol different and that’s that.  I’m merely reflecting on my own experiences as I now filter THROUGH them and try to imagine what memories my son will have in his twenties. I can only say that I can’t imagine who I would be today if I had grown up as so many kids are right now - with oodles of television and computer games and dvd’s in the back of the minivan (what ever happened to car games? I Spy and so on?! I was entertained during 5-15 hour drives with these games!) How sad that they memorize names like Dora and Diego and Elmo and Blues Clues before they even get down the names of their grandparent’s!

I also think of all the senseless hours I’ve wasted in the last decade on tv shows. I’m not talking about an awesome film or favorite show here and there- I mean the AM news, the daytime talks, down to the 11 pm news and Late Night shows, I mean I’ve seen them all- and when I looked around, every one I knew my age was doing the same thing, so I don’t think I’m alone in this! And we wonder all the time where all the hours go in the day and why our nation’s children are overweight on the whole. Maybe because so many of them are NOT out riding bikes and climbing trees and getting sweaty and grimy until dinner time every day? Most at best finish their homework and then play video games. Some have competitive sports or teams they are on, but few teens have an active, healthy LIFESTYLE. My own darling Hubby (very big TV fan, btw) has to “zone out” for most of his hours before or after a work shift with the boob tube- the mere thought of taking a walk four hours before he must clock in is too much (not cracking on him here, just pointing out a difference, okay?) I remember where we lived in Florida, our house was less than a mile from several chain restaurants, a grocery store, even a “Family Fun” place with put put golfing and so on. Yet if we needed a few things from the store or anything, we drove. We got into our automobiles and drove literally around the corner in perfect weather. This seems so silly to me now, and not a wonder I struggled with a flabby butt for the last 5 years! Now I’ve got to re-learn what it means to be active- not a 30 minutes a day exercise regime or gym membership, not a weekend outing here and there- but riding my bike and walking as a MODE OF TRANSPORTATION, weeding and pruning the garden, staying busy with things like this for several hours of every day, allowing the isty bitsy spider to make a web from the tree to the hood of my car because I so rarely use it! (It’s on Craigslist, if any one is interested!)

I was really inspired by a No Impact Man post recently, in which he muses over the fact that we live in a culture that WATCHES everything happening but rarely DOES anything. Why learn an instrument or allow yourself to sing in front of others, let alone connect with others in an intimate way on a regular basis, if you can simply watch such connections in a movie and listen to much better music on the stereo?

And don’t even get me started on 50, 60- 80 hour work weeks that deteriorate our health, families, and quality of life. “More-more-more!”: I’m guilty of it, very guilty of it, trust me. But I am getting MORE MORE MORE bothered by the time this way of living robs from me and the things I could be DOING and learning and how rich my life would be if I got a few priorities straightened out (i.e. putting money/things at the bottom!)

Well, there is a perfectly good afternoon out there right now, so I’m gonna scat now. Scat… isn’t that the word for animal droppings. Ew.

Ya’ll, I am so exausted! (and YES I say ya’ll- unlike some other Floridians I am ACTUALLY southern!)

After working about 11-12 hours total on Wednesday, I barely touched the first item on my “to-do” list for today before the hours zipped by without warning and before I knew it I was hauling off to downtown Lakeland’s annual Christmas parade. It was great weather and lots of fun, but I kept wishing I had just gotten work done instead. I am some what of a perfectionist, especially when it comes to hard work. If I feel like things are hanging over my head it is really hard to enjoy myself. This is yet another facet of “work at home” life: your work ALWAYS goes home with you! It squeezes into the five minutes Lil’ E is engrossed in “Dora the Explorer”, follows me into the bathroom while I oversee him taking a bath, and stays up late with me until wee hours of the morning while my dog snores at my feet. It is very rare to find “stopping points” or to take a breath in between projects, so there’s that constant tick in the back of my mind, always telling me to steal away another hour for some work.

There are many reasons why I put up with this, reasons which are not uncommon to any one who holds a job. First of all, I need the income. When I say that, I mean it. My money doesn’t support eating out or excessive car payments, it supports electricity! I also know that my work wanes in and out in volume. If I get no projects in January, I will be kicking myself for not taking all I could get in December to hold us over the lull. (This is why there’s no point bragging about all the hours/money I get this week, for they might be split three ways to spread into lagging weeks.) Secondly, I put up with the nagging feeling of always having more work to do because it is my job. There are a few things in life which deserve your attention. I miss lunch dates, I forget a conversation I had yesterday, I admit that. When it comes to commitments to family its a whole different matter, and to me, the same goes for work. If I say I want the work, and I tell my boss or a client I will get it done by a certain time, then gosh darn it, that’s my word on the line. I wish I were better at this in all areas of life, but some things gotta give in order to keep priorities straight. I feel badly when I have to put a friend off for hang out plans or re-schedule a million times, but then again if I hung out each week with every person who asked, I would literally be out of hours in which to do work. Lastly, I enjoy working to an extent. I would love to soley focus on personal writing, but of course THAT doesn’t pay bills, so who am I to complain that I get to keep one small foot in the door to the corporate world, to own a pair of closed toe shoes and wheel around a laptop from time to time while hoping for a small raise or promotion within the companies I do, basically, virtual or out-sourced administrative/clerical work for? All this while almost exclusively telecommuting from home, I mean, it is exactly what I desire: to be able to wake up and cuddle with my son, to be the one to prepare his meals and put him to sleep allllll day loooooong. I always felt like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world to have a child but not raise that child - ridiculous as in unnatural - to not have a parent or close family member be the sole providor for the child the family brought into the world. (Disclaimer: Of course, this is a personal conviction and one I DO NOT wish to impose on any one else!)

Long story shorter, to “squeeze” hours into my life in which I have honest to goodness “work” to do (aside from the full-time job of child rearing and home keeping) is a blessing and I have nothing to complain about. I simply wish there were more hours in the day, is that so much to ask for? Sheesh.

I know so many people feel like this. I hear every day people say how busy they are, and I can imagine! Between family, friends, holidays, work, church activities, physical exercise, meal planning, house cleaning, bill paying, pet responsibilities, travel plans, college classes - how are we even meant to have time for it all? I recall a time when, after just having the baby, my to-do list for the day was literally one or two points long: “Sweep and check the mail.” Seriously. The rest of my brain was taken up with memorizing when to nurse, when to diaper, when to bathe (MYSELF!), and how in hades to get myself and the baby dressed and ready to get out of the house on time for a doctor’s appointment!!!

It’s amazing how quickly we fill up our schedules again and complicate life with more DOING after brief pauses such as births, wedding, deaths, natural disasters or vacations.

Currently, my alarm clock is scheduled for 6 hours from now, so I can go meet up with some great ladies in my church and get “discipled by grace” (aka bible study, which I actually am “leading” tomorrow so I can’t skip this time!). I plan to stop at Starbucks on the way and suck down a triple tall cap for liquid energy. I have spent 15 minutes trying to work and re-work my agenda for the day to include all that needs to be done, but I finally gave up and will just have to trust that I will do my best and if things don’t get finished the sun will still come up on Saturday.

G’night! 

Hubby had off today and we set off on a roadtrip, a whole hour away to Tampa’s International Mall.

OUR ROADTRIP CONVERSATION: 

Me: “I saw the funniest thing today on a blog, it was “Signs Your Toddler is Watching Too Much TV” [very funny, go read it when you are finished up here.] And it was saying-”

Him [interrupts]: “Top ten ways to know if your husband farted!”

*Meanwhile, my face is turning green and I’m sticking my entire head out of the window for air*

Him: “One: You smell it.”

       Two: You tast it.

       Three: The air is heavy.

       Four: The windows are rolling down.

       Five: Your eyes water.

       Six: You look down to see if it was you.

       Seven: The baby napping in the back wakes up.

        Eight: You gasp for air.

        Nine: You stick your head out of the window

        Ten: You throw your husband out of the car.”

*On the way home, I get some sweet revenge”

Me: “How to know when your wife has farted:”

Him: “She makes a stupid face.”

True. Dead give-away.

Right now my brain is SO fried that every time I go to write something witty, I find myself wanting to type a line from It’s A Wonderful Life that is stuck in my head:

“Say, brainless, don’t you know where coconuts come from?”

There, I said it. Proof that my brain is seriously farting some silent but deadly’s.

Why is it that just when I feel great about getting some work done or folding the laundry I am scolding myself for not reading more, losing weight, or paying some “attention” to my husband?

Along the same line, how come there is no medium between over and under-achiever? If there is, I need some one to define it.

All that aside, maybe I’ll be over my whining tomorrow and give you poor readers back your 45 seconds you wasted on this one!

Why, might you ask, do I not have time for the 48 hours worth of things I want to crame into a 24 hour day? I wish I knew! One thing I do know? My laptop is seeing a lot more action than my hubby!