My Head Just Might Explode

I don't  know. Maybe.

So much shit I need to do. Too little time.

Sound familiar? Yeah, tell me about it! I swear, there's just too much! And too much to think about. I can't keep a straight thought most of the time anymore and that right there is enough to make me think my head really just might explode at some point in the very near future.

Work has been weird for the past month or so. I work nights. 5:30pm to 2am and most of the time I don't mind it. Sadly, for about a month there I had very little to do. Sure, sometimes it's nice to get paid to do practically nothing but I'm just not the kind of person who can handle having nothing to do for very long. I have to have work to do. My mind absolutely cannot wrap itself around being paid for doing nothing. It drives me insane. Plus, I really do enjoy being busy. I don't handle having nothing but time on my hands very well. The other problem is, I don't handle having too much to do very well either. And finding a happy medium seems to be impossible. It's either feast or famine and never the twain shall meet!

The beginning of last week at work I was bored to tears. Couldn't figure out what to do with my "free" time. It was like with nothing to do my mind just went blank and, really, there are only so many Facebook games one person can handle. Well, that this person can handle anyway. And then right about Wednesday night I believe, all hell broke loose and I had more work than I knew what to do with. The start of this week is no different. No. Wait. Let me rephrase that: There's even more work this week! Yes, I love being busy. However, I don't love being so busy that I don't have the time to even make lasting mental lists for the things I need to do when I get home or get up in the morning.


Work is only part of this whole equation, though. This past weekend felt like a brief nanosecond in time. Honestly, it was as if I went to bed after work early Saturday morning and woke up at noon on Monday. Okay, so maybe not that fast but you get the idea, right? It was a very busy weekend! Berry picking on Saturday with the kids. I made a terrible dinner (yes, I am an excellent cook but even sometimes I can screw up steak!) and then began processing berries after the boys were in bed. Sunday was Father's day so, of course, it was all about the hubby. Up super early (for me - remember, I work nights) to make breakfast for the kids and then make an even more special breakfast for my husband while sitting on the boys to finish their card for Daddy. Fortunately, Michelle had stayed up Saturday night to make cards for both Beau and her dad - really nice cards, too! 





Gahh, well, let's just say that Sunday flew by, too! As did Monday. Processing berries and making jam and canning said jam takes time. A lot of time, actually. Especially when you've got a picky husband who doesn't like raspberry seeds. Come Tuesday, we each awoke to a text from Beau's best friend saying "Pool party!" Finally, summer is thinking about making an appearance in Oregon. Just warm enough for some poolside fun! So, of course, forget everything else I might need to do and we head off with the kids to go play in the pool at John's apartment complex. The kids had a blast and we actually got some good exercise in. Plus, Momma got some SUN! It's kind of nice seeing more than just super pasty pale skin when I look in the mirror. Yes, I know, sun = BAD. But, you know what? I love the sun and I needed a very healthy dose of Vitamin D. I've been lacking in that particular vitamin and the supplements I got from Trader Joe's give me nasty burps. Better to get it fresh from the source anyway. 

Blah. See what I mean? I'm barely keeping a coherent thought here. My brain just races from one thought to the next, barely making any understandable connections. I have bills to pay. I have a party on Saturday that I'm supposed to be hosting and I haven't sent out any invites! Oi. And, really, I just need some sleep. I'm exhausted. Pretty sure my iron levels are low, too. Been taking another supplement for that and, again, more nasty burps. Doesn't seem to be helping, either.

I feel like my brain either goes 100MPH or it just stops dead. There's no in between. Nothing that will help me just get what I need done. Right now, I'm in at that 100MPH mode and I can't shut it down without some help. Help from my tasty friend: Beer. Sadly, beer tends to shut it down completely. Hey, at least it helps me sleep!

Please forgive me if there are typos, run on sentences, short sentences and incoherent thoughts. This is just the way my brain has been lately, and quite frankly, I have no time to proofread before publishing this post right now. There only about 5 things I need to go do RIGHT NOW.

Part 1: I Suck At Being A Mom

It's true. I will deny it no longer. I suck at this whole motherhood thing. And it is heartbreaking to admit. But I figure that admitting and accepting failure is the first step to success, right? So, here I go. Forgive me in advance if this gets long as I am quite sure that it will, what with all the crap floating around in my head right now.

Before I begin to detail all of my terrible not-so-motherly transgressions I want to first explain that I am not trying to steal an idea from other "Mommy Bloggers" out there. I am clearly not one of them, though I do follow many of them. One in particular comes to mind whenever I am faced with the fact that I am indeed a bad mom. She goes by @herbadmother on Twitter and you can find her blog at http://www.HerBadMother.com. Her name is in fact Catherine and her tagline is "Bad is the new good."  I have often tried to console myself with this thought, however, it just doesn't work. So, again, I want to say that I am in no way trying to capitalize on this idea that it's OK to be a "Bad Mom". I am also not suggesting that Catherine is a bad mom, from what I read in her blog and her tweets she is a very nurturing and loving mother. I just need to get this off my chest, K?

Now, let's see, where do I begin? I'll start at just about 25 minutes ago and work my way back. How about that?

Alright, about a half hour ago I kissed my husband goodnight and headed up to bed. I have a massive sinus headache and had planned to take some meds then crawl into bed and hopefully sleep off this pounding in my head. Sadly, this did not happen exactly as planned. I got into my room and was just about to start undressing when I hear noise coming from the kids' room. It sounds like the boys are playing and/or fighting. This ticks me off royally because they were tucked into bed an hour and a half before. There should be absolutely no noise coming from down the hall. At all.

Dismayed, I heaved a rather large sigh and walked myself down the hall. I burst into the room (surprise is the best weapon a parent has in these situations, yes?), turned the light on and yelled something about their having been up here for an hour and a half ... My tirade didn't last long. In fact, I'm not sure I even finished the thought because I immediately noticed that Noah is asleep (he lifted his head briefly then went back to sleep) and Adam is doing his weird half-awake freak out - this is semi normal as he has suffered from night terrors since he was a toddler.

Of course, I immediately went to him to try to wake him up and figure out what was wrong. He was shivering despite jammies and blankets. He was also acting like he needed to go pee. So, I pick up my 6yo little boy who clings to me as I take him to the bathroom. It took a bit of work but I finally get him seated on the toilet where he does his business though not without lots of shivering, crying and not really being able to communicate with me. He's got a little bit of diarrhea going on - same thing his father, myself and younger brother have had the pleasure (can you taste the sarcasm?) of enjoying over the past few days.

And here is where my most recent Bad Mom moment comes in.

My first thought is this: Dang it. I'm going to have to keep him home from school tomorrow. I can't deal with both of them all day. Alone. Ugh!!!


Yup. I suck that much. Here my child isn't even fully awake. He's obviously not feeling good - tummy ache, shivers, diarrhea, etc - and my thought is that I just can't handle a full day with my monstrous children all by myself tomorrow. And there I go again. I called them monstrous when in all actuality they're just normal little boys. I immediately berated myself and returned my focus to my poor little man.

Got him back to bed, snuggled for a minute, got him comfortable and within moments he was sound asleep again. And then I was back to hating myself for being such a worthless mother. As I left his room and headed back to my own I was inspired to start writing again. You see, I often lose my voice in the face of stress and I've had more than my fair share over the past 6 months. I decided that I needed to begin confessing all of my horrific "achievements" (ha ha) as a mom recently. In fact, I had intended on confessing to much more tonight. However, my face is still on fire. The light from my laptop screen is causing sharp stabbing pain behind my eyes and I really do just want to sleep right now.

But tomorrow? Yes, tomorrow shall reveal more.

The Portland Pie Off

On Wednesday of this past week my husband tweeted at me on Twitter about an event I had never heard of before: The Portland Pie Off. His tweet was pretty darned specific that I should enter. Like ASAP. So, I looked into it. I seriously considered it. Wasn't sure about it, though, because I only had a few days to prepare - the Pie Off was set for today, Sunday, August 16th. That's not much time to make a good decision! I talked with some friends about it to get some ideas. I talked with my husband about it and got his thoughts on it. Finally, I decided to go ahead and register online for my famous Buttermilk Chess Pie. Well, it's famous within my family anyway.

I was first introduced to buttermilk pie when I was about 12 years old. My uncle's then wife, Kim, was from Texas and this was her pie. She brought it to a family gathering at my grandparent's house and my older sister, Teri, was absolutely adamant that I should try it. Well, like any 12yo girl with discerning tastes, I was extremely hesitant. I mean, who wouldn't be with an ingredient like *shudder* buttermilk in it? In fact, it took a lot of coaxing from Teri to convince me to finally try it. Oh, but when I did I instantly fell in love! To this day, buttermilk pie remains my favorite pie of all time.

When I was 18 and on my own I went in search of the perfect buttermilk pie recipe. Over the past 14 years I have played with the most basic of buttermilk recipes and have made it my own. This is such an amazing pie that my entire family loves it and asks for it pretty much every year during the holidays. And I don't just mean my immediate family (you know, the husband and kids), I mean the extended family as well. Mom, dad, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins. They all love my pie. For quite a few years there I was known as The Pie Lady on both sides of my family (and then I had a couple more kids...less time for baking these days). Of course, I make more than just the famous buttermilk pie. But it is definitely my signature pie.

We do love it.

Of course, my husband being the loving and doting husband that he is (at least where his stomach is concerned haha) had insisted that the buttermilk was the way to go. So, yet again, I tweaked it just a little bit more. Doing my best to make it my own. This pie belongs to me and no one else. I also tweaked my pie crust recipe (which once started off as one from my Great Grandmother Effie Dilley) to make it just that much better. No, it wasn't just better. It was perfect according to judge Byron Beck of the blog Byron Beck's Window.

This afternoon at 1pm, I showed up at Peninsula Park in North Portland with my pie in hand and laid myself out on the table to be judged by one and all. The Portland Pie Off was my very first ever cooking/baking competition. For over an hour and a half we waited on the sidelines, watching the judging. Waiting. I managed to get a few shots of the judges obviously enjoying my special entry even though they didn't want any of the competitors milling about during the judging.

The kids played. We had a picnic lunch - my special home made egg salad sandwiches. We tried to keep ourselves busy taking pictures of the kids playing. Everyone enjoyed the merry go round quite a bit. Sometimes I worry that my 5 year old son has no fear ...

Finally, it was time to reveal the winners. All the competitors were called back over to the judging area and were asked to move in nice and close so that all could hear the announcements. I waited by my pie with bated breath as they read off the winners for the various categories. When the announcement was made for the winner of the Best Custard Pie I was shocked. I was excited beyond belief and boy, oh boy, was I PROUD! Can I just say how frigging difficult it was to keep from crying? I know, I'm a complete sap. But being that this was my first ever cooking or baking competition, I think it's to be expected, right?!?

Along with my Blue Ribbon for The Best Custard Pie, I also received a Betty Crocker Cooking Basics cookbook which I plan to share with my 11 year old daughter as I teach her how to cook and bake in the same way my mother did for me.

Once the revealing of winners was complete, all who were present were invited to dig in and enjoy all of the pie entries. My pie went FAST. No, it was faster than fast. It flew off that table! Lucky me - or maybe it was lucky for everyone else? - I had a 2nd pie on hand to give others a chance to taste my truly divine creation.

After today one thing is for sure (aside from the fact that I have a winning pie recipe). I absolutely will be entering more cooking contests. Baking, especially, is a passion of mine and has been for many years. Since we moved back in June I am finding that I have to learn how to bake all over again. But, having a convection oven does that. I certainly am enjoying the lovely convection oven ... and I shall continue to share my baking spoils with the world.

Bon Appétit.

Do You Ever Just Feel Rotten?

I don't mean physically. We all get sick every so often and usually the best word to describe that feeling is "rotten". However, that is not at all where I'm going with this. It's more a mental thing.

So, yeah, I've been feeling pretty damned rotten for the past week. I've even gone so far as to explore my use of the *F* word. You know which one I'm talking about: FUCK. Not on Twitter, mind you. In an effort to appease my husband I try to keep the cursing to a bare minimum on there. But Facebook is a different story. He's not on FB and probably never will be. Plus, pretty much everyone I chat with on FB is well aware of my fondness for this word. So, in hopes to help my mood and see if it truly is as therapeutic as some experts say I started a few "Fuck" rants on FB this week.

Wait! Stop right there! Before I go on I feel I should qualify something. Many of my friends and family who do read my blog already or who may in the future read this blog know this one basic thing about me: I am indeed a Christian. Baptist, to be exact. I love the Lord. I have been Saved since I was 12 or 13 (I remember the moment, just not the exact year). I am comfortable with my salvation and my standing with God. Yes, such language as is described above is not considered very Christian like and is in fact often considered hypocritical. However, I just want to point out this one little fact: We Are ALL OF US Sinners. There is not one person on this earth who can claim to not be a Sinner. Some of us are just more at peace with their "Sinner" side. I happen to be one of them. Again, I love the Lord and I confess Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I know where I am going after this life here on earth is over. I also know that I will have to answer to God for all of my sins I have willingly, and unwillingly, committed during my life time. But, I am who I am and I won't change that for anyone. So, if you think me a hypocrite and decide you can have no respect for someone who confesses Salvation while also accepting their Sinner status, well then you'd better just leave right now. Click that little red X in the upper right hand corner of your browser and never come back.

OK, now that I have the attention of those who truly enjoy my witty writing, I shall continue...

Where was I? Oh, yes, the "Fuck" rants on Facebook this week. Never before in my experience on FB (about a year now) have I received so many approving responses to my status updates. I'll admit it, I'm a bit of an attention whore. I do so enjoy having the focus on me at times. Not all the time, mind you, as I do have some anti-social tendencies and when those tendencies take hold of me I am mostly absent from the internet and draw into myself, away from my family and friends.

"Ha!" you say? "Jen? Antisocial? No way!" you're thinking? (Someone actually said something to that effect to me just last night.) But, yes, it is indeed true! In my teens and early 20's I had a very hard time assimilating into crowds. I hated parties with a passion and always felt out of place no matter who was there. I have worked very, very hard over the last 14 years to banish most of those issues and have learned to become a far more social person. I still don't have many very close friends and have lost quite a few over the years, but I now have also learned to surround myself with people who appreciate me for who I am - not for whom they think I should be.

Ahhhh, but I digress. I was talking about feeling rotten, wasn't I? Yes, indeed, I have been in a mostly rotten mood this week. Not entirely sure as to the full reason for this mood, either. But, the "Fuck" rants on Facebook were a sort of experiment. As I mentioned before, I wanted to see just how therapeutic it was and as much fun as I had reading through the witty and often downright hilarious comments, I found that it truly didn't help much. Now, I won't lie and say that I don't enjoy flying the F bomb every so often because I most certainly do. There are times when no other word or expletive will do. Nothing says it better than "Fuck!!!" when something has you just so darned frustrated that you can't think of anything else to say.

Well, I guess Experiment: Fuck was a complete failure. Or maybe it was a success? I guess that all depends on the way you look at it. Either way, the rotten feeling has yet to leave me. I have good moments, sure, but mostly I can't shake this BLECH mental feeling this week. Not only that but because of this horrid feeling of ultimate rottenness I've been a bitch to my family. I don't mean to be. In fact, I try very hard to stay more relaxed around the family - kids especially. Unfortunately, I have not at all been successful in that endeavor this week.

There is some hope on the horizon, though. My good friend Ariel is getting married next weekend. I am very excited and for many good reasons. I love my friend and am beyond pleased to see her so happy and in love after her last relationship that lasted 10 years and I'm not entirely sure any of them were truly good ones. The man she is marrying is awesome and he treats her like she's a queen - exactly what she deserves! Plus, I love weddings! Oh, and on top of all that my husband and I are photographing the wedding as our gift to them. I am also making her wedding day jewelry. So, with any luck the preparations over the next week for the wedding will be enough to lighten my heart and my mind if not the anticipation of finally getting to meet my friend Tori and her husband Wayne IN PERSON. Tori Wayne will be arriving Friday evening and staying with us so that they can be there for the wedding, too. This will actually be everyone's first time meeting Tori in person. We've known her through the internet for 2.5 years now and have often talked on the phone but have yet to finally meet up (even though she lives less than 4 hours away).

Hmmmmm...how do I end this now? Hahaha! I guess I'll end this by reiterating that having a "Fuck" fest on Facebook while feeling mentally rotten just doesn't cut it. However, I am pretty sure that the anticipation of a happy event and enjoying time friends is just what the doctor ordered.

Why Can't Sex Do THAT For Me???

Truly, it's just not fair. Just sayin' ...

My niece. My favorite niece. The oldest child of my oldest sister. She's a special girl, or rather, a special young woman. I adore her, she is truly a young woman to be proud of. This niece, whom I shall call S, is 18 (19 in November) and just graduated from high school last month. This same niece has also entered into her very first mature relationship just about 2 months ago.

S's boyfriend, J, is a sweet kid. He's 20 and absolutely adores her. Not only that but he's been good for her, she's really growing up even more. I am a very proud auntie. S waited to have sex till this boy. She was a good girl. She was 18.5 before losing her virginity and let me tell you, she did not mean to share that info with anyone, it just kind of slipped out one day.

Let me tell you about that first because it was quite comical...

You see, it was a Sunday afternoon and I was visiting with S's mom - my older sister - and one of S's other aunts - her dad's younger sister. We were all out on the back deck and talking about periods and hysterectomies and other womanly "issues". S's other aunt, G, had a hysterectomy last year due to some serious complications with her poor girl parts. Some very similar issues to those that I have as well. So, we were talking about birth control and heavy periods and such when S comes out to join in and visit with us. The topic of S's super heavy and horrible periods came up and my sister volunteers that S has been on the pill for 3 months to help with that (and apparently it has). But then my sister also made a comment about how the pill was not 100% effective (this was pointed at S) and that our own mother had gotten pregnant while on the pill. I, of course, chimed in that I had as well. This is when S blurted out, "Well, that's why I also use other protection!"

Whoops.

Yeah, she didn't really mean to say that. It ... just ... slipped out. And boy, howdy, did she get RED! A few minutes later J joined us out on the deck and the shade of magenta got just a little bit brighter. My sister, G and myself all being married women and mothers with at least three kids for each of us (S is the oldest of five), we had a good laugh and weren't at all upset or even embarrassed by S's untimely admission of her adult-like behavior. We just found lots and lots of humor in the way it came about. So, of course we had to clue J in on the conversation so he would understand poor S's flushed face. He, too, blushed a bit but took it good-naturedly and we all laughed it off and I soon left as I needed to get back home.

Fast forward to 2 days ago. Sunday at noon I show up at my sister's house to pick up my 11 year old daughter who had spent the night. S walks through the kitchen and it strikes me that her body has changed. She has lost a lot of weight, her waist has slimmed down and, if I am correct, she's even lost some size in her boobs (oh, that I could be so lucky!). So, being the open family that we are, I comment to my sister about the weight loss who then responds with this:

"It's all the sex! As soon as she started having sex, her tummy went flat! Why can't sex do THAT for me???"

And there you go. We are jealous of the newest addition to adulthood in our family: My 18 year old niece, S. She is a woman, full and true. And the lucky little bitch is losing weight because she's having sex.

Seriously. Not. Fair.

I Should Post Something New You Say?

Oh, I suppose it is overdue. So often I think of things I want to write about. Sitting on the bus or train to or from work I think of things. Or lying in bed, I think of things. Often, at work, while working on an issue for a user I think of something that's bugging me or that I think may be blog worthy. But then once I get to a place where I might actually have a few moments to write, I can't think of shit.

Really? Yes, it is true. Mostly, by the time I have a few moments to myself I've completely lost everything that makes me ME. When I have these moments for me it is only after working a full time job outside of the home all day, coming home to fix dinner for my brood, performing various household chores, spending time with afore mentioned brood and then putting them to bed. Once they're in bed I usually have a few other things to do and a husband nagging me to do yet more things for him. And then, usually around 11pm, I have some time for myself. I get up before 7am. So, yeah, I don't really get much time for me.

Being a full time working mom - outside the home - and the "bread winner" to boot is a tough job. A mother's job is never done whether she works outside the home or works as a stay-at-home-mom. Yes, I know that the job of a SAH-Parent is never easy and is also never ending. But somehow so much more always falls on the mother even when the SAHP is the husband.

I often hear from my SAHM friends complaints about their husbands who work hard (or not) outside the home to provide for their families. Complaints that these husbands "get" to go to work and then "get" to do whatever they want every night once they're home while my friends, these SAHM's, are constantly on the go taking care of the house and the family. Well, how does that play for the moms who work and the dads who stay home? I wonder what it's like for other families out there who are in similar positions as my husband and myself.

My husband has been unemployed for going on 3 years and not by choice, mind you, but it is what it is and we make do on my income alone. In fact, we have often made do on my income alone far more than we've had 2 incomes. Mostly, I don't mind this. In fact, it wouldn't bother me at all if I knew that my poor husband was happy at home with the children. But he's not and the fact is that he just is not able to make enough to pay for daycare at this point should he go back to work. And he especially could not support us on any salary he would make getting back into the workforce after 3 years off. Again, this is NOTHING to me. I have always had a sense of need to work outside the home. It is important to me that I contribute to the household.

When my now 11yo daughter was a baby my role was reversed. My ex-husband made more then than I do now and I was a SAHM because I thought that this was what I wanted. I soon realized that I equate my worth with my ability to provide for myself and not take from someone else even if he is my husband. Having been through that situation during my first marriage I can sympathize with my current husbands frustrations and diminished selfworth - though I am sure he does not think about this.

My husband, Lord bless him, is a GOOD man. To me, he is a desirable man. He is talented in so many ways, he is witty and funny and so amazingly full of love. But for some reason he is unable to keep a job for more than a year it seems. Honestly, I don't understand it and neither does he. And at this point, after his longest stretch of unemployment, he is feeling extremely disenchanted with life in general and especially with our family. He is miserable quite frankly. He hates being home with the kids. He sees my having to work as a gift. He tells me I'm lucky that I get to go to work and doesn't understand why I am jealous of him. He also feels that he does everything in the home while I sit back and laze around like a sloth and can't ever understand when I need a break - from both he and the kids. He truly and sincerely resents me my gainful employment. I have been with my current employer for 2 years now and prior to this position I worked on the Nike WHQ Campus for 6.5 years. But for me, working has never really been anything but a must. I have to work. There is no choice in it for me and especially not now. We are dependent on my income and the benefits I receive through my employer.

How do you come to a workable solution in a situation such as this with the unemployment rate sitting at over 12% in our beautiful state of Oregon? At one time I thought for sure we could handle this arrangement but now I fear it can't hold together much longer. It's become an immense strain on our marriage and, truthfully, I have no idea how to fix it.

So, there. That's what's on my mind right now. It's 2am. I should be in bed asleep having been up for more than 19 hours and yet, here I sit, writing something I am sure my loving husband will read but am not sure how he'll react. Truth. I only write the truth.

And now, off I go...to read for a few minutes until I pass out from sheer exhaustion. Until I blog again....

Insight into dream content?

All through my childhood and up until about a year ago or so I often dreamt of flying. But not just flying. I would jump and soar, then come down and gently bounce and soar some more. Each time I soared through the sky my flight would get longer and longer until I would finally wake up just before trying to land for good (landing was always a scary proposition in these dreams).

Well, yesterday I spent all day thinking on the dream I had on Sunday night. It was an odd one that started off in a restaurant with ... IDK who it was, just some random people that I seemed to know. I had to go to the bathroom but instead of using the restroom inside the restaurant I went outside and began to cross the parking lot to use one somewhere else. As I was crossing the parking lot someone called to me whom I apparently knew/worked with so I changed directions and went over to talk to him. He then started pulling a video camera and other equipment out of boxes and explaining to me how to use them and what my "new job" was going to be. That took a while and I never did end up going to the bathroom. Instead, once I was finished with him I went back to the restaurant to meet up with my group who'd already had their food delivered to the table. Once I was back at the table I realized I was naked. I wasn't embarrassed in any way, it actually was just an odd thing of "Where the heck did my clothes go?" I covered my chest with my arm but that was it. I searched for my clothes but it really wasn't *that* big of a deal and no one else seemed to care much. I did worry a little bit about what my new "boss" would think but it wasn't anything that mortified me in any way. It was just odd.

So, the more I thought on this dream yesterday the more perplexed I was. And then it occurred to me last night as I was prepping some steaks to fix for tonight's dinner that I have similar dreams quite often. I've been dreaming about being naked in public for a while now. But just as in Sunday night's dream my nakedness is nothing of any real concern. I am just left wondering what the heck happened to my clothes. I'm not embarrassed in any way by it though I do try to locate my clothing (unsuccessfully, mind you).

Weird, no? Any ideas on what this means? Feedback is appreciated!