I don't feel like thinking of a title.

I'm having a "Ralph" kinda day.
So if you came here for a laugh, sorry.

I don't feel like thinking of a title either, or using spell check.

If you don't know who Ralph is, then read this blog entry and get caught up, will ya?!
 http://crimimommlyinsane.blogspot.com/2012/07/lets-talk-about-pets-bay-bee.html
 

So here it is. Take what you want from it.






Who's that little girl?

She is INNOCENCE.
She knows nothing but unconditional love.

She likes to draw rainbows.
To climb trees.
To laugh.

No words have hurt her. No person yet to scar.

Her heart is pure. It has not been exposed to rejection or judgement. To hatred or suffering.
The walls are down completely. No barriers to protect her.
She knows of none.


Her mind is fresh to the ways of the world, yet it is a sponge, that will slowly absorb the hurt that surrounds her.
Even the hurt from those who came before her, that loved her... who slowly put up THEIR walls, to survive the cruelty of life.

She absorbs it. ALL of it.
Maybe deeper than most.

Her feelings are seen as weak, so she hides them, trying to fit into a hardened world that she doesn't understand.
She morphs into someone else, as her innocence slowly fades.

The paper is empty of rainbows now, and only filled with words.
Words of anger.

She's learns that it is rare to be loved the way she needs. Even by those she left her walls down for.
So they ALL go up. All the walls. And she is lost behind them.

She becomes an empty shell.
A shell, WITHOUT a pearl.

As she grows, her armor grows.
So much, that she doesn't even know the face she sees.
The one in the mirror.

Cruel words seldom hurt now.
Rocks are thrown her way, but they break, and fall to the ground.
Nothing can bring her back to who she was.
She became lost. Within herself.


But time brings another little girl.

A new generation of innocence.

Her face, similar. 

One who also looks to those before her.

Her laugh seems very familar.

This little girl sees the ugly shell. But not as it is.
Only perfect, and beautiful.

She picks it up slowly. Studying it.

On the outside of the shell, she draws a rainbow.
The shell opens slighty, letting in some light.

She giggles with her big blue eyes and untainted smile.

Then, reaching her tiny fingers inside, the little girl opens it ever so gently.

But her excitement turns to sadness, quickly. Because inside of the shell, she sees the emptiness.

She doesn't understand.

Without even thinking, she reaches into her pocket, and pulls out a pearl,
placing it into the empty shell.

She closes it back carefully, holds it up to her little mouth, and kisses it.

"I love you" she whispers.

"I love you so much that I gave you my only pearl, so that you wouldn't be without."

But the shell had nothing to give her.

The little girl's smile started to fade quickly.
Her own shell beginning to form.

"No, Take it back! Please! I don't want you to be like me! I love you too much!"

Then out of pure love, the pearl falls to the ground, rolling to the little girls feet.
She leans down and picks it up.

She thinks for a moment, holding the pearl tight, then looks back at the shell.

But the shell was different this time.

It had completely opened up, all on its own, exposing all that it was.

And inside, another pearl.

It was the same one that used to be there so long ago.

And it was there, especially for her,

Because of her.

Who is causing my insanity?

Since ALL of my kids are in school EVERYDAY, I think I may be losing my mind.
OK, more than normal, smart ass.
Yes, I heard your thoughts.

First, look at this picture and tell me if you see a face with a mustache. That way, if you do, I won't appear AS crazy. Hint... it's on the vase.


So I was sitting on the toilet today and saw faces in the patterns of the tile. Again.

I also see faces in the trees... my carpet... the bricks... the marble counter tops.
They haven't started talking to me yet, but if they did, I would probably tell them all my problems and see what kind of insight they had.
Keeping my fingers crossed on that one.

I figure it is either normal, my imagination is WAY out there, or I need to switch up my meds.

I find myself staring at the walls, looking for these faces, wondering if I could make a fortune drawing my own collection of never seen before images.
This only makes me realize that I need to get off my ass and get some stuff done around the house.


I started painting some crosses for a project "MY MOM" is doing, but went into attention deficit mode, as I so often do.

The crosses reminded me of my Sunday school lesson that I need to teach Sunday, so I left my task and went to figure out where I put the lesson book.

It was on the carpet, next to some shredded cheese.
Yeah. No clue.
As I start picking the pieces up one by one, I see one of the faces in the carpet. It had squinty eyes, big nostrils and a down turned mouth.
Ignore the face. Ignore the face.

As I focused back on the cheese, I started craving some. That is normal enough, right?  RIGHT?!

I made my way to the fridge where I went to grab a cheese stick.
There was none.

When I looked around inside of the fridge, I saw how horrible it looked in there!
How come one day you just SEE IT.
You ignore it every other day, but one day it is just SO obvious.
Like an episode of "Hoarders."

I saw some moldy green beans, a sip of milk at the bottom of the milk container, which we all know is good for NOTHING.  Old leftovers, a drawer full of cardboard and plastic left behind from the yogurt, juice, and cheese stick packages, a crap load of pickles that no one EVER eats, yet never really go bad enough to feel like you have the right to throw them away. White, cracked carrot sticks, and a shriveled grape.
The strangest thing though, is the MAYO JARS.
They always somehow make their way onto the shelves of my refrigerator.
No really. One time, I had like 7 of them in there! It's a freakin' mystery in my house!
We just can't figure it out.
Maybe the faces put them there.  YES, the faces did it. There really is NO other explanation.

Anyway, this made me realize..
(1) I need to clean my fridge.
(3) I need to go to the grocery.
(D) I'm a shitty housekeeper.
(and blue) I forgot to feed the dogs.

I head outside to feed Cami and CoCo and decide I will sit down for a minute on the porch, to enjoy the weather. Plus the smell of fresh air usually reminds me of how trapped I feel inside the four walls.

As I put my feet up, I turn my head toward the bricks. I squint my eyes a bit, and see another stupid face.
This one looked like it was screaming.

Then in my sun room, through the window, the man with the mustache, on the tall vase.

The mysterious mustached man had me thinking about some children's character from a book. Or maybe it was Colonel Sanders. Either way, it made me go into my children's rooms to clean a little.
Talk about a freakin' DISASTER!

Carly's room looks like her closet threw up tu-tus and stuffed animals.
Devin's room looks like it threw up dirty clothes and capri sun straws.
And Brice's room, well, it just looks and smells like a large animal threw up in there. Or maybe Lightning McQueen.

I think... Shit, I REALLY don't feel like tackling this today.

So I walk back out into the living room. Looking around.

I start picking up the couch cushions that were thrown on the floor from my kids the night before and the TV starts switching channels by itself.
OMG! The faces! I knew it!

Then I look down and see that I am standing on the remote.
You're lucky, faces! Next time I will catch you!


Wait. What was I doing? Did I ever feed the dogs?... Why is there still cheese on the floor?... Am I looking for my cell phone again?...
OOOR was it that we are OUT of Mayo?

YES! THAT WAS IT!
I need to go to the store to get some mayo!


I MAY be the cause of my own slow deterioration of sanity, BUT when life gives me mayo...

Well...  I'll have plenty, that's for sure.

At least enough to make sandwiches for me, and all my invisible face friends.

Now back to the question... Did YOU see the face in the vase?

Mmm hmmm.

Go check your fridge.

Take it from me.

 

Life is freakin' FUNNY.   Even the sucky parts.

At least that's how I think everyone should see it. Just don't take life SO damn seriously.

Even when it seems absolutely crazy, just LAUGH.

Why laugh you ask? Well, OK then, I will tell you.

So like I said before, I have some major A.D.D, a few personalities, and 3 children that could have possibly inherited these wonderful traits from me. Which will undoubtedly, slowly lead to insanity if I were to let it get to me. I HAVE to laugh at myself.
I also, for a long time, felt a strong need for acceptance and had to prove that I was tough. This perfect concoction of screwed-upedness lead me to be QUITE unique.
But my Mommy thinks I'm special.

I went to a birthday party when I was like, 6. All the girls and boys were on their best behavior.  You know, typical party. Hang out with friends, open presents, sing happy birthday, eat cake,
RUB CAKE ALL IN YOUR FACE AND HAIR...
WHAT? That's not normal you say?
No shit.
They sent me home.

When I was in 2nd grade I remember the teacher asking some sort of math question to the class. I already felt like I was "a bit different" at this point in my life. So when everyone seemed to raise their hand with confidence to answer the math question, but me, it kinda confirmed my learning problem.
I ended up raising my hand after the fact, just to fit in. And to not feel so stupid. I mean, what's the odds she would call on me? Right?
Well. She DID.

All eyes turned towards little ole Leslie who had just got done drawing 3 stick figures out of those little holes in the side of the loose leaf paper.
You don't know what I'm talking about?
Oh, then YOU missed out!
Wait, what was the question?
Hell if I know.
I think the answer was 24.
What was my answer?
"blue."
A.D.D


When I was in 4th grade, some girl was picking on me. I wasn't going to take any shit from anyone, just because I was small, so my short, scrawny little self told the girl to
"STEP OUTSIDE!"
Well, she did.
CRAP.

She was bigger than me, like most kids my age, and when we snuck past the teacher and out the classroom door, that realization became obvious to me as I was standing, facing Goliath.
I must show NO FEAR!

With all of the tomboy inside of me, I blindly started swinging my fists at her. But I was no David.
It pretty much ended up like one of those nightmares, ya know, where you are trying with all your might to move as fast as you can, defending yourself with punches and blocks, but you are moving in slo-mo, while the other person just laughs in your face.
Then you get punched in the nose at ultra mega speed.
Well, that can happen in real life too.
No shit.
Personality #1. Tough girl.

Then after, you walk back in the classroom, sit back in your desk, and pretend like THAT nightmare never happened.
Oh, but it gets worse.
Because the teacher sees you walk in.
"Go to the office!"
"But.. but...teacher...the other girl..."
"GO! NOW!"

As you storm out of the room, nose bleeding, upset that the teacher will not see your side of things, you make sure to knock all of the papers and books off of the teachers desk, flipping the bird,  then "accidentally pushing" her out of the doorway she was blocking.
Know what I'm talking about?
Yeah, I don't know anything about that either. Was just hoping you did.
Personality # 2. Temperamental girl. Or mental girl. How ever you wanna see it.


In high school, I would always sit in the back of the class, keeping my unraised hand to myself.
But there were windows in the back. And windows open up.
I would slide them open and crawl out when the teacher looked away, then go for a stroll around the school.
Thirty minutes or so later, I'd eventually make my way back to the class, walking through the door.
This confused the teachers.
"You told me I could go to the bathroom!" I would say, looking at them like they had dementia.
"I did?" they would respond, confused.

The kids would laugh at this. So I found MANY more things for them to laugh about over the years.
Personality # 3
Funny girl.

I was like a mega sized surprise Christmas present, from HELL!
You never knew what was gonna come out of the box.
A ninja? A mental ward patient? A clown?
Your guess was as good as mine.
There is a good girl in there somewhere. But that story would just be boring.


Needless to say, I served many detentions throughout school, didn't excel in any particular subject except the art I drew on my paperwork, and didn't graduate with the best of grades.
I know.
You can just SEE the pride radiating from my parents.
Don't let it blind you.

So what was the answer to nurturing this uniqueness of mine?

Duh! Join the military!

17 years old. Boot camp. Week one:
"DID YOU RUN AWAY FROM HOME PRIVATE!? DOES YOUR MOMMY KNOW YOUR GONE?!"
"ARE YOU GETTING AN ATTITUDE WITH ME PRINCESS!"
"UP THE STAIRS! DOWN THE STAIRS!"
"50 PUSH UPS!"
"This is a MAN'S Army!"

I began to think that maybe it WASN'T a good choice.

While low crawling through a field of fire ants in the rain, with chaffed thighs, your period, and a fever starting from the cold you've had for 2 weeks, you wonder... What the HELL did I just sign up for??!!
But whatcha gonna do.
You just gotta LAUGH.
Cause the shit couldn't possibly get any worse.


The second time I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane I was in combat gear that weighed about the same as I did.
"How the frick am I going to walk in this! How am I gonna lift my body off the ground and JUMP out of the plane in this shit?!"

You don't jump. Because the plane sucks your little body out, not giving you time to even THINK about how to jump. Then you repeatedly get slammed against the side of the door, bleeding, landing on your ass, smacking the back of your head against the ground as the parachute pulls you away with the wind, scraping you against the hard dirt, while a guy in a black hat yells in your face.
Just laugh.
Shit happens.

When I gave birth to my children I remember the oh so dreaded thought of... what if I poop on myself while I'm pushing out the baby? Oh my God, how embarrassing that would be!
You worry and worry. You read the horror stories.
I mean think about it. EVERYONE is watching, staring at the one obvious area to be staring at while your knees are back behind your freakin' ears.
So what IF it happens?

Well, once you are in labor and your uterus feels like someone is constantly using it as a football to kick 80 yard field goals for 14 hours straight, nothing else seems to matter.
When "using the mirror" seemed like a good idea at the time, but then they give it to you as the football makes its way through the 1 inch wide goal posts, and you see your body do things you never imagined it doing, you could care less if you crap on yourself. You could care LESS if your husband sees. Your Mom. The 2 doctors. The group of nursing students.
Either way, when it is all said and done, you just...

LAUGH.

Because what else can you do?
Worry?
Nah.

My husband and I were living in our last duty station in Alabama before he was retiring.
We had to sell our house. Easy enough, RIGHT?
Riiiight.

We walked around the house making a note of all the little things we had to repair. We figured after we fix it up, clean it up and stage it up, we would sell that bitch in a week!

HaHaHaHa!!!!!
Looking back, That's reeeal funny.

My husband had to have surgery.
This left me at home to do all of these tasks, ALONE, with 3 kids to take care of.
At the time they were 5yrs, 2 yrs and 3 months old.
Brice was obviously in his terrible 2's which is never good when you have a 3 storied house.
My 5 yr old, Devin, was in his terrible 2's as well.
And Carly completely relied on my boob milk to keep her occupied and happy.

Here is a little snippet...

Ok, let me move all of this furniture to the POD.
Oh, wait, I have to feed the baby. I'll just pop her on my boob while I wipe down the kitchen.
Brice going down the stairs? Brice tumbling down the stairs? Ok, well, let me put up the gates while i'm not moving stuff.
Devin screaming his head off because toys didn't line up the way he needed them to, to make the form of a robot? Ok, let me help him.
Oh, let me switch boobs first. 
Ok, Brice is climbing OVER the gate.
Devin is now throwing the toys at the wall, scraping the paint.
No biggie, I will just paint over THAT spot too.
Oooouch! I think Carly just bit my nipple off!
Ding dong!! Shit, the real estate agent is here!
Where's Brice? Why is Devin eating the paint chips?
Damn!!! I still have to clear out the basement and garage!

 After I change out the electrical socket covers, texture spray over the ceiling, find a way to glue down the toilet that rocks, re caulk all three bathrooms, clean carpets, move more furniture, go through closets, pack up all of our clothes, fill out all the paperwork for the real estate agent, AAAAAAND feed the cat. Crap! Where's the cat?

Throw the kids in the car, grab a bite, go see Brian at the hospital...
Come back and finish up that work I never started on, oh yes, and stain the back deck because that would help the house to sell. Where is the cat though?? Then I can stage it up real nice for that open house on Saturday, get the house sold, and be on our way to Louisiana! I got this!!

Oh, I got it all right.
Every last bit of it.
By myself.
During the beginning of the friggin' ECONOMIC HOUSING CRISIS!

The house was on the market for a year and a half.
Renters for 3 years.

I developed a twitch that still creeps back when someone mentions the words, kilz, paint roller, vent covers, housing market, surgery, Home Depot, nipple... well, just about any world really.

And my cat?
Yes, I found him.
In the middle of the road.
After a car did.

 You can't worry about shit you think MIGHT happen, and you can't worry about things once they DO happen. Because it's never what you expect and you usually can't control it anyway, so you will have worried for NOTHING.

When life throws you a curve ball, rub cake all in your face and hair, and just LAUGH.

Because life is freakin' funny.

And so are tough, phychotic, attention deficit, baby- making clowns in combat boots.

Things may suck at times, and I may not be perfect, but hell, I least I can laugh about it.