Friday, January 28, 2011

Butter is just a little stick of smiles and happiness.

According to Paula Dean that is...

Allison: "Mom? Would you make that Breakfast Cheesecake thing again?"
Me: "You liked it, huh?"
Allison: "OHMYGOODNESS YES! It made my tastebuds jump up and dance the swing dance with little poodle skirts on and big puffy hair!"
Me: "Um...ooooo-kay"

I teach a cooking class for the school district and this week we made a Paula Dean recipe for a breakfast cheesecake. I'm not sure Paula Dean has ever made a dish without an entire cube of butter poured over it.

Hashbrowns? Butter.
Pound Cake? Butter
meatloaf? Butter!
Shampoo? I'm sure she'd manage to stick butter in there somewhere.

I'm amazed to see that Ms. Dean has a functioning cardiovascular system if this is the manner in which she constantly cooks.

But hey, if her food causes my daughter's taste buds to dress up in poodle skirts and swing dance, I'll simply have to stock up on more delicious sticks of smiles and happiness.

Sunday, January 23, 2011


I miss writing. Like I used to do, you know? Writing and getting paid to write was such fun. Sometimes difficult but mostly fun.

I might start again. Here a little, there a little. Not as much as I did before because I've got enough jobs to keep me uber occupied otherwise. Perhaps just a dip or two in the warm water of writing to clear out what's in my head. I had a gig at a paper or two here in town and they said I could always come back if I wanted to do so. The editors were fans. Which was nice.

It was always great therapy before. I'm sure it will be again.

And I'll try and tone down the snark. I said try. Try.

As in I can't promise anything.

In other news, someone gave me a can of sugar free Rockstar today. Have you tried this stuff? It tastes exactly like Nyquil of the cherry variety. I take that nasty stuff only when I am desperate for oxygen during nighttime periods.

It was full of ick.

I won't be rushing out to purchase that anytime soon. Or even later than soon.

Does anyone out there even drink that stuff? Sound off. I'd love to know.

On an emergency basis I will drink a lemonade sugar free AMP, but I rarely do that any longer. Except in a emergency. We call it my Emergency Amp and it's hidden in the suburban know. Emergencies.

And on that note, I think I'll call it a night.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

They tried to make me go to Rehab but I said no no no...

Ok, it wasn't me that was sent to rehab. It was my kitty.

We thought we had taken care of Mr. Mitten's drinking issues when we sent him to Kitty Rehab. As you can see from the picture----it didn't take. He's now added a crown.

It's gotten worse in the past few days. He's gone all south of the border on us and we just can't figure out where he picked up that tequila and bling. Bad kitty. Bad, bad kitty.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Unwelcome Guests

I caught some nasty buggy somewhere. Not sure where it invaded my personal perimeter, but I am not pleased. NOT PLEASED. Do you hear me buggies?

Cease and desist upsetting my respiratory system and then causing me to upchuck my dinner and other unpleasantness best left unsaid. Or unwritten. Or whatever. Just go away. Please.

I missed church on Sunday and work today. I don't want to spread the fun horror.

Most of today was spent curled up in the fetal position under many blankets. Also under a cat. The cat seems to believe I am his bed, which is fine except when he gets all uber lovey and starts that kneading thing with his paws. Then I become less a bed and more a pin cushion.

In other news, I'm walking better. I've begun walking around inside the house without the cane (yay me!) but I think I'll keep it for longer adventures just in case. I still have other issues with the leg and the burseas. Those aren't healing as quickly and still give me problems. I wonder when that will leave?

Maybe I'll be lucky and the buggies and the busted up burseas will all leave together. I'd love to be back to me again.

Thursday, January 06, 2011

Changing the Conversation

If you're like me, and you're probably not (lucky you), you have ongoing internal conversations with yourself. I tend to lay awake at night and can't shut my brain off.

I wonder if that cleared the bank yet.... Hmm, yes definitely Johnny Depp.....wait, did I give Ash her meds tonight?.....mmm...chocolate...

Those are mostly the benign thoughts that pass through my gray matter. Then I really get going with the good stuff.

Wow....I really messed that one up today.....could I BE any more hideous looking? I mean really....I wonder who it was that did that to me....why didn't we have family prayer tonight? ARG I AM SUCH AN IDIOT.....I didn't know I was doing it wrong, did I? Was I told that before? Who did I tick off? I don't remember messing that up but I must have if they complained about it....Oh CRAP, how many days till the state visit to check my records?????? ARGHHHHHH!

At this point in my internal monologue I'm usually squirming and my stomach begins to hurt. I flip and flop in the bed. I continue to excoriate myself for my failings that day...and then I move on to my past failures, of which there are many.

What was I thinking??? I wasn't, as usual. I am too dumb to live. I can't believe I did that. Why did I do that? What IS WRONG WITH ME? I knew better. I did. I'm not a good person. How can I be a good person if I did that? .... I'm so stupid....dumb, that was dumb...I know I looked like an idiot when....

And on and on it goes.

Last night as I was writhing inside, chastising myself for my weaknesses, for my stupidity and foibles I (as usual) felt horrible.

Then I stopped and a thought ran through my mind.

Why do I always tell myself how awful I am and catalog my mistakes? Why don't I lay here and think about all the GOOD things I've done instead?

So I tried. I really did. Like most of us, we've been taught not to blow our own horns, to be humble. I've raised self deprecation to an art form. If there was a Self Esteem Destruction Olympics, I'd be on the top platform trying to stand up under the weight of all the gold medals around my neck.

I tried again.

That Hispanic woman in line behind me at the store didn't have enough money to buy her I paid for it for her. I bought that homeless guy breakfast and gave him a hat, poor guy it was so cold out I can't imagine sleeping outside when it's like this....I'm so glad I can finally stand up long enough to make dinner...that meatloaf was really good tonight...everyone seemed to like that he's got a battery for his car I hope he can find a job...I better put more protein bars in the suburban to give to the homeless guy...I love my husband. I'm so blessed to have this man in my life....

My tummy felt a little better.

I've decided when I lay down at night to account for my day I will NOT focus on my weaknesses. I will NOT recount all my sins, going back to my infancy, and I WILL talk kinder to myself during my internal conversations. If I don't, who will? :)

Monday, January 03, 2011

Back in the Saddle Again....

Yes, that's me. I'm baaaaaack. Well, back to work anyway. No saddle involved. I managed to work a total of FOUR ENTIRE HOURS today.

Yes, I know. Amazing. Miraculous. Stunning. It was all those things and more!
Not everyone can push forward in such daunting circumstances for FOUR ENTIRE HOURS!

Yeah, ok. There were pain meds involved, but who hasn't needed legally prescribed narcotics to make it through their day?

Better living through pharmaceuticals is what I say. Only when I'm actually using said pharmaceuticals.

Actually, truth be told, I'd much rather not need the drugs. They make me woozy and fuzzy and today I was asked a question by a coworker and after I said, '" several times, she asked me if I was on pain meds.

Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!

Yes, I'd taken ONE pain pill. Yesterday I was pleased that I didn't have to take any. For the first time in nearly a month I didn't ---oh wait. I did too take some. I was out at church and needed to.... phooey. Ok. Well, I'm sure soon I won't need to take any.

A girl can dream, right? Right.

Being back at work was good. I managed to get a lot done---so I actually felt accomplished for the first time a month.

We'll see what tomorrow holds.

Sunday, January 02, 2011

I never stopped loving...

Today marks the 22nd anniversary of the most amazing event of my life; the day I became a mother for the first time.

It's something of a miracle to me that I can remember every moment of her birth.

One of the lighter moments in my 21 hour labor (and it WAS labor) came seconds after her birth when my mother said, "Oh Pam, it's a boy!"

I distinctly recall laying there with my eyes closed (I was exhausted) and thinking, ', it's not a boy. I know it's a girl'

The doctor then pronounced, "Mrs. Kinnaird? You have a beautiful baby girl"

My mother's intuition was far better than any ultrasound could ever be,

They laid that tiny bundle in my arms. I can still feel her velvety soft cheeks and her wrinkled up brow. Oh how I loved. How I still love. How I will always love.

From diapers to potty training, from snuggles to teenage hormonal horrors that often left me shattered and nearly broken, I never stopped loving. I kept a Mother's Journal for her and in it I wrote that there were times I would quietly go into her room as she slept to look at her. Tears of pain and frustration running down my cheeks I would gently caress her cheek, whisper to her how much I loved her and then return to my own bed.

Parenthood is not for the faint of heart.

I'm so proud of my daughter--for her quiet strength, for her return to the strong faith in God and the gospel that she's been taught all her life but had to find out on her own the truth of it all. I'm grateful for the trials and the hardships and the heartaches.

I never stopped loving.

Thank you for teaching me unconditional love, my daughter. Thank you for leaving your heavenly home and for being loaned to me for this mortal life.

I love you. Always remember that m'ija. Always. Happy Birthday!