I’m such a Debbie Downer

With all of this holiday let down/BFF leaving me/meds kicking in….I forgot to mention one of the greatest events to happen in the casa de filthy laundry as of yet.

I know.

How could I do such a thing?

Stop being such a pissy pants and get on with the good stuff already, you say.

I said, I know.

Those of you who know me since the first blog that I started in June 2006, know that I have been sweating the potty training for almost that long.

Remember the poems I used to write?

As I sit you down to pee
I pray the Lord you won’t release
Upon the tiles beside the loo
Oh, please not again on my shoes!

___________________________________

God grant me the serenity
to accept the fact that I cannot change Fa’s mind about sitting on the potty;
the courage to change her fears;
and the wisdom to know she won’t be wearing diapers to college.

Remember that I had approximately 25 Potty Posts and 35 Doodie Posts?

(For those of you who don’t know them, I will bring some of them back just to celebrate this amazing occurrence!)

Remember how I stressed?

Well, yeah she’s been potty trained since the summer now, which explains the lack of mention of this subject. It kinda got ignored since she’s been so friggin’ good at it.

However, I neglected to give this next tidbit the celebration it truly deserved. (Those of you in the throes of potty training will revel in my joy!)

We RETIRED the Princess Potty on her 4th birthday!

No shit.

It’s stored away in the basement. Fa doesn’t use it anymore! Ever.

She went through a long stretch where she would only poo on the princesses. Not anymore my friends! She poos on the big pot like the rest of potty trained civilization!

Oh Rapture!

No more dumping the contents out and disinfecting until you want to sneeze from the odor…

No more TOUCHING doodie by accident!

No more tripping over that stupid contraption in the middle of the night.

No more! No more! No more!!!

I’m free.

We are let loose (pardon the pun) of the restraints of those damn princesses. (I hated those bitches.)

Mocking me every time I had to clean the crap outta their little purple cup.

Smirking at my pain.

Tramps.

Well, they are put away in the princess tower of death for all of eternity. Those little whores.

Ah, the little celebrations of motherhood.

Revel with me, won’t you?

I feel pretty!

Thanks to my sweetest friend Chelle.

See that new image header?

She designed it! And I adore it. It makes me feel sassy!

She worked on the idea on her own and surprised me with the image. I am in love.

See why I love blogging so?

I could never leave. You all make me feel so much better about things.

And you listen to my blather. All my complaining.

I promise, I will snap out of it. But thank you for putting up with me.

I hope I can be there for you friends, like you are there for me.

I wish we could all have a sassy margarita together…

Chelle, I wish I could repay you somehow…You so rock sistah.

Thanks from the bottom of my pink, satin bra!

Antique Goody!

Got my antique Eastlake Plantation Desk last night.

That was a quick pick me up.

We have an antique store here in town and I fell in love with it the second I saw it…Plus that corner needed a nice little artifact there…

It’s from the 1850’s and it is in fantastic condition.

You likey?

(The corner where we put the tree)

(Love the detail, and the mirror on top)

So this perked me up last night…

That, and your comments…Thanks for all of your comments everyone…

Holy Crap I’m Tired!

Now, you’ll know why I haven’t been reading my habits favorite blogs this weekend.

We did our Dining Room.

What a job. But I am so happy with the outcome.

Fortunately, I have two very burly and quite handsome men (dad & husband) to help me out.

Here’s a few before shots: (Click to Biggen all the photos)

(Messy)

(Moldings)

Here’s some after shots…With the new moldings, fresh, blue paint and crisp new curtains:

Keep in mind, I still need some junk on the walls. Oh! and a rug.

(My prize piece)
That is the antique piece I picked up cheapy…Matches the rest of the furniture.
My mom painted most of those ceramic pieces in there…I am getting her China too.
For that buffet.

(Blue Room)

(What should I put on this wall?)

We also put up the tree…Yay.

(I love our tree)

I need a nap.

(Zzzzzz)

You know what I keep thinking?

“What happens when the future has come and gone?”

Robert Half

I don’t wanna get to the end of my life and be disappointed.

I wanna look back and be satisfied with the path I’ve walked.

I look back and take inventory of where I have been so far and I feel so badly for the teenager I was. It was a dark, dark time in my life that followed me into my late 20’s. It was a good decade of depression until I got help (the first time)…I am proud of myself for taking the steps I took to seek help.

I’ve had some great years in between.

Now, I want the next decade to be a positive one. I have recently caught myself trying to navigate through the dark fog and it wasn’t working. I needed to step out and brush myself off and start again.

I’m in the process.

I’ve used my daughter as my beacon of light and hope again. It is a hard role to play…but it will show her how much she’s meant to me. It will show her how my love for her makes me want to be a better person.

When I die, I want to look back and say, “That was pretty great!”

I want my daughter to respect me and think that I truly did the best I could for her. I want her to be strong and independent and speak her mind. I want her to be the woman I am having a hard time being.

That’s what I keep thinking.

She has more friends than me and I’m glad.

Fa had her 4th birthday party over the past weekend.

18 kids were there. That’s about 17 more friends she has than me.

I am impressed.

Most of her school friends came and showered her with love and affection. My heart swells for her.

She is such a big girl. I look back at the first few days of her life and I was so unsure. Of everything.

Now, in amazement, I watch her interact with her friends and enjoy herself.

That’s the key. Enjoyment. She actually does that now. Without fear or trepidation. A big step in the life of Fa.

And a big step in the growth of her Ma.

We have both entered this world of Mother/Daughter unsure and anxious. Scared and doubtful.

But we are maturing into this uniform being of two hearts growing and learning from each other. Two souls connected by love. Two girls growing up. One into motherhood, the other into childhood…and beyond.

I am in utter and sheer love. Unconditional (yet, annoyed by tantrums) love.

I am proud of her for stepping up and being brave. I am proud of her for trusting herself to totally enjoy the moment without inhibition. She is teaching me to do the same.

I am proud of me for accepting this fate and enveloping my tiny charge into my heart and soul.

I was doubtful in the beginning. Doubtful that I could handle this job. This never-ending job of Motherhood.

But I am more sure now than ever before, that as she grows and teaches me how to love…There is nothing else in this world that I am supposed to do. But be there for her. And help her grow and teach her how to be a strong and independent woman.

Yes, I slip up. I curse at her and I yell when I really shouldn’t. I lose patience and throw things in frustration. But I am human. And I am teaching her that above all else, my love is always there. And no matter what mistakes we make, we will always love.

In her life, I pray that she is overwhelmed with friends and treats them with respect, honesty and love. I pray she guides them when they need her and they return the favor.

In my life, I wish to watch her grow and build the life she wants. I wish to support her decisions and I hope that I have taught her how to make the right ones.

I can only wish she sees how much I truly adore her. My life wouldn’t be complete unless she knew how much she was loved.

My very big girl. Out of all the little girls in the world, how did I get the very best one?

Blah!

That’s how I feel. Blah!

But thank you everyone for checking in on me yesterday.

The surgery went well. I’m still here. I was scared that I wouldn’t wake up…but that’s what goes on in my head. I can’t help it.

It’s amazing how my mindset has changed since becoming a mother. Before, when I had any ‘procedures’ done that led to anesthesia…I kinda looked forward to it. You know…gettin’ knocked out.

All I could think about now was Fa. She’d be motherless…See what I mean? So, that totally stressed me out.

But I’m done. It’s over. I’m tired. I’d love to catch up on all of your lives, but I think I’ll wait until I’m feeling better.

I’m tired and crampy and crappy and cranky too.

I’ll try to get pictures of the polyp if I can…The Pro said he saw them and it was like a thumb. Gah!

Pre-Op/We Got Spirit

I had my pre-op testing yesterday for my historical event: THE polyp removal.

I am excited that maybe, just maybe the visits from that mean, old Aunt Flo will get easier.

My polyp is 3.5 centimeters in diameter…anyone who has dilated to give birth understands how friggin’ big that is to be carrying around in my uterus. Gah!

So my surgery is scheduled for Monday the 26th. The Monday after Thanksgiving here in the States. I better eat well. (Lot’sa stuffing. You know, I haven’t had a really good stuffing in ages. I don’t eat red meat and every time I go to Thanksgiving dinner, the stuffing has pork in it. I know, the “other White Meat”…But I still can’t do it.)

Can you tell, I’m nervous? I’m chatty.

***

I’ve been reading a few books at once these days. A few from James Van Praagh. Know him? He’s a spiritual medium. I’m reading Heaven & Earth as I type…It speaks of communicating with the spirit world, meditation and finding your psychic inner voice. I’m into this stuff, ya know.

Whether you believe or not, it’s helping me find a center.

And I’ve had some interesting “Psychic Spurts” throughout my life. These days, they are happening again.

Instances as of late are leading me to believe the the ’spirit world’ aka ‘My Mom’ understands that I am trying to understand them/her…

Don’t think I’m nuts. I know I am, I don’t need you to add to that. This is different.

Some recent examples of Mom trying to let me know she’s here:

When I went to the bookstore the other day to find my next Van Praagh book, the shelves were packed to the gills. I couldn’t find him anywhere. I spent at least 20 minutes in the New Age section of the bookstore (with a salesperson) searching for him.

As I was about to give up and walk away, my eye caught a book, sticking out just a little bit more than the rest of the books on the shelves. I took a pause. I grabbed the book. Can you guess what it was? Yup. The EXACT book I was struggling to find in the midst of the packed, holiday shelves. No other books by him were there. Just THAT one.

I know.

Then, the TV has been changing volume all on its own. Without help from me or Fa.

I know.

Lastly, Fa came upstairs from the basement the other day. Telling me the lights are going on and off. She begged me to follow her downstairs. But I was on hold with the doctor’s office, I couldn’t go. I went downstairs a few hours later and a lightbulb was on the floor. It unscrewed itself from the ceiling socket and hit the floor without breaking… It was just lying there waiting for me. I called The Pro to see if he did it. Nada.

I know.

Whenever my Mom is near, I get a tingling in the back of my neck right above where my skull and my spine meet…It’s a quick flash of sensation, then it’s gone. It’s her way, I’ve grown to believe, of letting me know she’s here. This week, I can’t get rid of that tingling. It is a constant for the past day or so. I scratch and try to relieve the feeling but it won’t go away. It’s moving to the tip of my head and just kind of lingering. I can’t stay in my skin comfortably. It’s a constant tingle.

I know.

She’s here to protect me. I know. I am very nervous about the upcoming surgery (even though I know it’s really a normal procedure) but I am still thinking the worst. She’s guarding me. Taking every precaution not to let anything harm me. And she means business. For the first time, she’s persistent. She’s not giving up and she’s letting me know.

I just know.

I had to yell at her this morning:

“I know you’re here! I feel you. I swear it. But you’re freakin’ me out Mom! I know you’re here. I promise. But you really are freakin’ me out!”

She still won’t let me be.

I love you mom. I do. Thank you for protecting me. When I truly need it.