Mel: 0 Pavement: 1 Pool out because of injury

I haven't been sleeping good lately. Not sure what I've been worried about, well that's not exactly true. I keep preparing for something bad to happen to Josh's job. Which Josh loves. He has a really good job.

So really I've been going to bed worried and that translates to insomnia.

That and I know I'm not being a good mom lately. I know I haven't been paying enough attention to my kids, and today I plan on just sitting on the floor and playing until they get sick of me. And with 3 of them, that's hard to do, especially with a 1 year old who loves attention. Let's get down to what's really important here.

I am getting new contacts/glasses today. Not exactly by choice, but I won't be able to see if I wait any longer. I'm surprised that my contacts haven't disintegrated.

I've started running this week in the morning. Today I was running down my road and this semi stopped on the side of the road ahead of me. I decided that wasn't exactly the safest situation, with houses set back from the road 1/4 of a mile or so, and if something happened, no one would hear me scream. So I turned around. After the semi started up again, he ended up driving past me, and I was so busy watching him, to make sure he didn't stop again, I took a dive and the pavement decieved me and won. Luckily, after hitting the pavement I rolled right into the grass on the side to stop momentum, otherwise, my face would have met and kissed the pavement. I wasn't about to let it do that. I'm sure that the guy who was driving toward me, was busting a gut, (I could think of several funny things they could say in that instant: now you see me, now you don't....or shouting: Runner down!!!) he didn't stop to help however, and I think that I was more grateful that he didn't, I probably would have bit his head off.

Oh yeah, and that kid pool in our backyard bit the dust. My mom ran it over with the lawnmower. Thank goodness I don't let my kids out while she mows(minus sitting on her lap, she can't mow over them that way). I really don't want a mulched kid.

I get into more trouble fighting with inanimate objects than people.

Newsy blah blah

Today was really good. Although Mint Fest was somewhat middle of the road, we went out with Bj and Melissa, and had some really good conversations. I love that.

And come on, the irish pub at eastwood towncenter had pepsi products. What a rip off. If I'm going to get a rum in coke, I want it with coke. Geez, get it straight. Although they had my favorite rum, so one point for them.

Yee-ha.

I decided today that it was a good thing that my parents named me Melanie. Simply because I look and act like a Melanie. I just don't look like a Francis or Juanita, you know. I'm definately a Mel. And that's all good.

I never thought that I was a Mel until I turned 16 or so. I was never worthy of my name until then or something. Before 16 I think (deep down inside) you just want to be someone else, and don't quite understand that you can be someone totally unique, although not always likable, but different. Different is good.

Oh yeah, I'm in an easy going mood. It was a good night.

Well that was random

Laurel was sick tonight, we'll check it out in the morning to see if she can go to the parade tomorrow. Bummer if she can't! You can tell when Laurel is sick, because she starts crying when her stomach is off, and instantly wants to cuddle. Which is a sure sign of get to the bathroom, quick.

Life is so weird. It seems like everything is going great, and I am waiting for a huge screw up to happen so I can act. Maybe that is just my instincts after living most of my life, jumping from situation to situation, barely making it through. But I get through. I know that God will get me through. That I have no doubt in.

And maybe that is why I make it through. Barely, but probably because God gives me just what I can handle and once I digest that concept, he moves me onto something new. Barely getting me through that as well, just because of my stubborn will, most likely. Usually is.

Can you imagine what responsibility a saint has. Not only do you have to be good 24/7 but you have to prove it to other people. And be humble about it as well. I know...cynical thinking, I just can't fathom what an awesome person you would have to be in order to be deemed a saint. In reality, it's just a human title; what men (really, clergy) decide who is to be saintly. I'm curious if God has rejected earthly saints before. Just a random thought, I suppose. It's mostly a Catholic concept anyways, sainthood.

I've been listening to songs and thinking about lyrics, how people decide to form an idea, and mold it so it will make some sense. Unless they are totally high on drugs, (Yellow Submarine, hello) it just makes me wonder what was going through the lyricist head to make them write it down. Were they just trying to get some words out, to finish their last song for an album, or did they really believe their words? Do they hate their own songs, or are they obsessive about the song they've created? I guess that could go for any art form, poems, stories, art... I kinda hope they believe what they write down, and are explaining the person they are by their songs. I know I have songs I've created and hate, although I know they are decent songs, they just don't fit anymore, like they may have described a part of me in the past, but I was wrong, or I've learned something better, and I don't want to associate my name with it anymore.

Probably one of the wisest sayings I ever heard about musicians and their music is this: To a musician, there is always a way to make the piece better, it's whether the musician decides to let it go, or make it a work in progress. Thus like life, the song is never finished. There will always be a part of a song you hate. And that's alright. Why do you think that Schubert's Symphony is Unfinished? Why Tchaikovsky hated his Nutcracker Theme? Thought it was a waste of time. The whole ballet. Why did Mozart make an almost impossible Aria for a soprano to sing?

Although I don't expect to be one of the greats, I can understand the frustrations of life, through my music, no matter how much I love a piece, and think at one point it is the best, and hate it with a passion later. It shows that I grow. And without that growth, I am nothing.

Wow, that was heavy.

Un-Mel like

I'm excited because it's Mint Fest this weekend in St. Johns. Everyone (alright all the geeks) in St. Johns and their kids get together to watch a parade, look through the crafts, animals, listen to music (good and bad alike) and you name it all in the city park (minus the parade, that's downtown). Anyways, last year the Pung family all walked down from Josh's parents house to the park, and we split up to look around and sometimes caught up with other Pungs, and walked around with them for a while. It was fun, so Melissa and I planned on doing it again, but neglected to tell the Pung boys. So Barney was on the phone with Josh, and he's like so what are you doing for Mint Fest.

Ha, we booked you already.

So Melissa and I told them what we had planned already, and really started ripping on them, so this weekend should be fun. Good stuff.

Josh is getting out at 1 today for Mint Fest. And his boss gave him a totally awesome raise. We were satisfied with what we were making, but he likes Josh and his hard work a lot. We are so shocked that God is that good to us. I am certainly not that good to Him. Especially lately.

Josh and I have been having long talks lately, which is really great. Quite frankly I don't get enough of those, and am left to my own devices of destruction. Such as thinking I am doing everything all by my lonely self, pity party here, and telling myself that the pity party isn't accomplishing anything, so I move on. It gets pretty pathetic, and actually having decent conversations, (that don't involve what Dar made out of noodles today) keeps me somewhat balanced.

Yes, I said somewhat balanced. Come on. You think I could be totally and completely balanced? That is very un-Mel like. I wouldn't be me without the unbalaced but interesting lifestyle I have so created. It's just not possible.

I'm a saint, what can I say...

Saint Mel.

Sounds good.

Liar

I know I haven't blogged lately, but I just don't have a lot to say. Okay that's a lie. I've got to have something to say but I don't know what. Alright, that's a lie too.

Josh just got home, and complained that I sat down at the computer to write after having it all day long. Actually, I haven't even thought about the computer today, so really it's an object of not thinking. So goes my life.

Yeah, I'm not the smartest one in the bunch (bunch of what?!) but there is some obvious reason I am here. Besides the fact that I take care of my kids, and really I don't even feel like I do that. They take care of themselves more or less. Tell me when they need things and so on.

Okay I lied a little, this week I have been so tired (and lazy) that it seems like I am crapping up my unpaid day job. Maybe I will get some motivation tomorrow, and get something done.

I'm just one big fat liar today. And I don't mean big and fat as in the reality sense, I know I'm not the skinniest one of the bunch (of whoevers) and quite frankly I really don't care about the fake lies I've been telling. So really I lied again. Bring out the soap.

So I'm one medium average liar today. Is that better???

Take me out to the ballgame...

We went to the lugnuts game last night. It was good and the lugnuts won. Even Gov. Granholm was there, although I would prefer not to associate I was within 20 yards of her, but I guess if I went close to the capital building I would be closer so there you have it. Someone famous that is a politician was at the ballgame. And I saw 2 people I graduated with, one who lived down the street from me, and the other was like a valedictorian or something, something extremely important if you are that person, but pointless if you are anyone else. How cynical I am tonight.

Anyways I was flattered that Josh's boss asked if I was for hire for cello playing. His wife's job is to arrange appointments and activities for the state, (including that Granholm thing) I decided rather quickly that my music is a hobby right now, though after telling Josh and mom I had said that, they said I was selling myself short. Although I wish I were single and could pursue my music actively, it's just not possible with 3 kids. I can practice, surely, but what about events? Josh can't watch the kids all the time I would be away. He has a hard enough time watching them for my games. No, I should wait until the girls are older, more capable of taking care of themselves, and hopefully I will have the time to become more than a hobbyist of music.

Who knows, maybe it's just not meant to be.

The girls were so cute though, the girls started to cheer when the lugnuts (okay anyone) hit the ball. But soon Laurel figured out who was the good team, and started to yell out, Hit it! or Catch it! Way ta go! Run batter run! Even knew when to clap when the music came on. It was fun. The girls were super. I was so proud of them. We even got to meet the guy above Josh's boss. Which I didn't know at the time and still managed to be okay. Even though I was watching the kids like a hawk (which is usual). I'm horrible in social settings with kids anyways. I can't make conversation when I have them with me. I'm always up and down and running around with my head cut off. Which by the way, I've actually seen a chicken with it's head cut off, several thousand times, very interesting. My dad used to raise chickens and butcher them. We had a mean rooster that would attack, so one day my dad was collecting eggs and it attacked him, and must have gotten Dad good, because he went after it with a wooden pole and threw it like a spear. And for the one and only time in his life I'm sure, his aim was true and he ended up killing the rooster. Boy did he swear about cleaning that rooster that night. Nothing worse than cleaning a chicken, than cleaning a chicken after you killed it and didn't expect to be cleaning it. Chickens smell when you're cleaning them, I think they are almost worse than fish. Okay, that was just a little useless fact about me.

Yeah that was a little more than enough that you wanted learn today, huh?

Well that's all for now, folks, tune in next time for "How to clean a chicken in half an hour."

Rain

Somedays I hate contacts. I went to put them in and one fell out, so I spent the next 10 minutes looking for it. After I found it, I tried to put the other one in, and couldn't. I need to get contacts anyways, just makes it more evident. So I am sitting around in my glasses with this dark storm cloud over my head. Luckily it's disapating quickly.

Oh yeah and it's raining, so really, I have 2 dark clouds over my head....

But I love the rain. It's so relaxing and it usually makes the house cooler. Which makes everyone happy.

The girls are really quiet this morning, (it's all about the rain) and I haven't gotten around breakfast yet, so I better start the day right.

Happy birthday Laurel.

I'm an official girl. I mean I always had all the parts, just never let myself be a girl. I want to be the strong guy. I push my feelings and emotions to the side, so I can realistically look at things. Which isn't a bad thing exactly. Except I don't allow myself to feel, anything.

I noticed this started to change when I had my first daughter, which it's her birthday today, how coincidental, I looked down at her little face and it was like I detached from her, (besides the real sense of detachment) I wasn't sure if I could love her more than myself. If I could provide a sane and balanced mother who understands and is always there to love her 24/7. Even when I am angry could I still love her. And I realized that this little baby deserved to be loved and that I was capable of that. More than capable and qualified. I could love someone more than myself that wasn't of my choosing, that literally was dropped in my lap, a person I could help shape, but couldn't change. I could give her my opinions, but she could decide whether to take my advise or try it on her own. This was my chance to be a fair parent and give my baby a chance to live a life that she deserved. One that glorifies God more than my life ever could.

Moral of the story: I turned into a girl the day my daughter was born. And quite frankly it wasn't such a bad change after all. I'm still learning how to be me and I'm fortunate that my girls and Josh are patient with me about it. If I were totally balanced then I would be no fun and dull, but for now I'm going to enjoy the quirks that makes me, me. Girly and all.

Even if that makes me need to feel again.

Dishes are vicious.

Hard to believe Laurel will be 4 tomorrow. It seems like she's been 2 forever for me, minus the terrible twos, she had that at 18 months. Maybe I don't want her to grow up after all.

Cassie is turning more into a toddler every day. It's funny to see her grow out of her baby look and into her kid face. Lately she has been giving these toothy grins when she is really excited and happy about something, and it just lights my world. She is such a sweet kid. I don't know where she comes from.

My mom bought dish soap so it means I have to do dishes again. I was hoping it was one of those things that just stayed on the grocery list for weeks, and I would have an excuse to why I wasn't doing dishes. Now it's just all my fault. I'll admit it. I hate dishes. And though I try to just get through them, some days it just doesn't work out. I really have to talk myself into it in order to get them done. It's just one of those things. That and it makes me irritated that they are never done. Like laundry, you can be done for a week, and it gives you a nice rest in between. Dishes are vicious. Yup, that's my new motto.

I wish I could say something else besides describing the aggravation of getting my dishes done, but I just plain don't have anything else interesting going on. Except falling into pools. Highlight of the week, you know?

Mel vs. Pool

I decided to be super mom today. The kid's pool was getting pretty gross, since a frog jumped in and I couldn't even see it at the bottom. So after I fished out the frog, (and showed it to the kids of course, Laurel wasn't too thrilled) I decided to clean out the pool. Well I got as much water out by a 5 gallon bucket as I could, by bailing it out like on a fisherman's boat that sprung a leak. Then I tried to tip it over. Well evidentially I wasn't strong enough just to "tip" it , as simple as it sounds, and managed to get into a fight with it. I'd get it half over and not be able to lift it, and so on. So I finally get it to stay half over and have this great idea to ride the pool so my weight would make it tip over. First try, and I figure I just didn't do it right, the second time I give it a good rush, and the pool flings me backwards, tossing my butt into the rest of the water (fully clothed, although already muddy) and my legs above my head wrapped somewhere in the middle of the rest of the pool. Laurel starts busting a gut seeing me fall into the water, since physical humor is so rich when you're 4 years old. I manage to get out of the pool, though I am not sure how, and notice that since the pool is in half, I can bail the rest of the water out, and actually tip over the pool. Success. Muddy but successful.

You were rooting for the pool to win, weren't you!!!