Auld Lang Syne

Greetings from the South,

HAPPY NEW YEAR Y'ALL!!!

The Lord's Day

"But forget all that -
  it is nothing compared to what I am
       going to do.
  For I am about to do something new.
    See, I have already begun!
       Do you not see it?
  I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
  I will create rivers in the dry wasteland."

      ~ Isaiah 44:18-19

I'm Sorry, We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties...

So I was working at The Grocery Store Friday night, and it was about 11:30. At this point in the night, it's just me, the overnight manager, and the stockers. A young man walked in and handed me some coupons for two free packs of cigarettes, and I didn't think anything of it. I rang him up, and my register required an override from a manager because the free product went above a certain amount. No big deal, right? Right. I paged my manager, he came up to the front, and did the override.

His password didn't work.

He tried it again. His password still didn't work.

Yikes.

You see, when the register requires an override, there's no way to continue ringing anything else up until you resolve the override. Sigh.

Now we normally don't have anyone (and I'm not exaggerating here, I really mean that the store is empty) in the store at this time of night, but tonight (of course) we had five other people in line. Twenty minutes, two phone calls, one grumpy woken up manager, and five pissed off customers later, we finally got another drawer open and I was able to check out the rest of the folks in line.

I'm surprised they didn't riot.

Gosh, I love working at The Grocery Store.

Dirty Business

I changed the oil in my car today.

Yay me.

It was really, really easy. I honestly thought that it would be a lot more difficult. The only sticky wicket I had was trying to get the oil filter out. It was in a really awkward place, but I got it eventually. I'm ridiculously proud of myself, and I feel just a little more self-sufficient than I was before.

The only part of the whole process that really bothered me was the possibility of the car falling on me. Shudder. 

Does that make me weird?


Don't answer that.

The IRS

So, how screwed are you when you're so poor that even the IRS won't collect on you?

I'd really appreciate it if someone would let me know because I'm apparently there.

I'm still a little shell-shocked to tell you the truth. Because believe you me, it was with much fear and trepidation that I called the IRS to tell them that I wanted to do something to take care of the insanely large (well, at least to me) amount of money that I owe them. So, I finally pulled myself up by the bootstraps, called and explained myself to the surprisingly nice lady on the other end of the line. She asked for my financial info, and based on that, my account is considered not collectible at this time.

Hmmm.

Like I said, you're some kind of screwed when even the IRS understands that they can't get any money from you.

Too Sweet

Alex woke up really early last Saturday, and can you guess where I was? Yep, where any responsible parent would be. Still in bed.

Cough.

So I finally drag my butt out of bed and go downstairs to make myself some breakfast before Sarah wakes up, and I'm kind of confused to see a glass of juice and a full bowl of cereal on the counter. Alex comes downstairs, cheerful as only a seven-year-old can be at such an ungodly hour, and I ask him if he's eaten breakfast. He tells me he has.

I look at him, he looks back at me, "So, what's with this bowl of cereal and juice then?"

"Oh, I made you breakfast."

I had conflicting emotions at that point. Gosh, it was so sweet of him to do that. Gosh, how long had that cereal been sitting in the milk for?

I couldn't not eat it after he had gone to all the trouble of fixing it.

So, I sit down at the counter and take a bite. The cereal was Frosted Mini Wheats, and they had turned to complete mush and soaked up most of the milk.

The milk was warm.

Ewwww.

Have I mentioned that I love being a mom?

What I Know For Sure

When I was at work last night, the cover of Oprah's magazine caught my eye.

It said on the cover, "What do you know for sure?" And that got me to thinking, what are things in my life that I know to be true regardless of my opinions, emotions, or circumstances?

So, this is what I came up with. This is what I know for sure:

My God loves me.

I love my kids.

I'm in a lot of trouble right now.

It could be a hell of a lot worse.

Not a huge list. Not very significant things, at least as far as someone else might be concerned, but ones that are terribly important and reassuring to me.

It's nice to have some things that I can be sure of.

Shakespeare

So I was at work the other night, and I was startled to look up and see a tree coming at me.

No, I'm not kidding.

We had ficus', ficuses, ficusi? Anyway, we had ficus trees on sale and this gentleman had two or three in a buggy. I sold him the trees and was chuckling about it after he had gone through. The next customer noticed and said, "Hark, a moving forest."

I laughed and nodded, "Yep, Macbeth."

He looked kind of surprised, "Wow, you know your Shakespeare."

It's a comfort to know that I'm not wasting my education working at The Grocery Store.

I Love My Life, Really I Do

So I show up at The Grocery Store at 6pm for my shift. I clocked in only to have it say,
'Too early, see your manager,' which was really strange considering I was actually two minutes late.

Was I not scheduled tonight? Did I mix up my hours or something?

Nope, I looked at the schedule and they had changed my hours from 6-midnight to 8-midnight. All three nights this weekend, and the one night I'm scheduled to work next weekend.

Shit.

Sorry, but this warrants profanity.

In keeping with the theme of the night my friend hands me this thick envelope when I clock back in at eight that says 'personal and confidential' all over the front of it. Crap, this can't be good either. I finally got a chance to look at it an hour or so into work.

The IRS has tracked me down and decided to garnish my wages against back-taxes that my husband and I owe.

Shit.

When I finally stop having a heart attack and look at the dates on the paperwork I see that they were due October 6, and that 'heavy fines will be incurred if this is not dealt with in a timely manner.'

Double-shit.

Guess I'm making some phone calls on Monday.

This starts a whole avalanche of trouble and puts me in a world of hurt because not only are they going to garnish these wages, they'll come after my wages at the school, and then they'll clean out my bank account. I know this because they've already done this to my husband, and they're garnishing 25% of his paycheck.

What frustrates me the most is that I've been trying to take care of it. I've contacted the tax advocate office through the IRS twice now, and they've never gotten back to me. I've never been able to get a hold of a live person there. As far as I can tell, they only have an automated voicemail that tells you to leave your information and that they'll get in contact with you no later than one business day after you leave the message. My next step is to call the regular IRS number and to go down to the physical Tax advocate office. Who knows, maybe that's automated too.

Like I said, I love my life.

I'm going to bed.

Hurtful

Alex was on the phone with his dad tonight, and I overheard some things that he said that upset me deeply. I don't listen in on their phone conversations, I feel that this is a time for just Alex and his dad to talk. I don't think that his dad is saying anything negative or subversive, or anything like that. I trust him on this issue.

Alex, on the other hand, always seems to be negative when he's on the phone with him. I know it's silly to be upset by things that a seven-year-old is saying, but I can't help it. All I hear during these phone calls is, "It's boring here.", "Nobody can ever play with me.", "Mom never lets me do anything.", "She always makes me play outside and it's boring."... On and on.

It hurts. It really does.

I am trying my damndest to make things the best I can for Alex, and apparently it doesn't matter to him at all. I try and remind myself that he's only seven, that he usually enjoys himself here, that he's playing with his friends almost all the time, that we do things together as a family. It seems that these bursts of self-pity only come out when he's having a bad day or when things don't go his way, but it's hard to remember when I hear him telling his dad these things over the phone. And of course this makes me feel like a jerk, because what must my husband be thinking when he hears these things?

I don't know, it just sucks.

I think I need to go to bed now.

'Night guys.

Don't Try This at Home

I'm car-less, which is a sad state to be in.

Well, I suppose that I'm technically not car-less because I'm currently borrowing my Grandmother's car.

The Grey Ghost.

It's a '95 Ford Taurus that's a wing and a prayer away from falling apart. The air-conditioning is broken, the windshield wipers are on the verge of giving out, and the parking brake light is always on. All this doesn't bother me one little bit, (except when it's raining and I can't defog the windows because the air-conditioner's broken) I'm just grateful to have a car that will get me to and from work.

Thursday, however, was a different story.

I had just pulled into the parking lot at school, and I was putting lipstick on before going into work. I turned the rearview mirror so that I could see... and it came off in my hand. No, I'm not kidding. It took me a second to comprehend that the rearview mirror had just detached from the windshield.

So, for the last two days, I've been driving around with no rearview mirror. It's been fun. And nerve-wracking, and dangerous. Oh, and did I mention nerve-wracking?

My first priority tomorrow is to go down to Auto Zone and get epoxy so I can stick the damn thing back on...

Words

I don't want someone to save,
I don't want someone to save me,
I just want someone to walk beside.

Sorry It's Been So Quiet...

It's been a little hectic around here lately, it's been my first week of work at Alex's school.

I absolutely love it, and I promise I'll tell you more about it when I'm more coherent.

I work at the school Monday through Friday from 8:15 to 2:15, and then I work at The Grocery Store Friday, Saturday, and Sunday from 6pm to midnight. This week I worked Saturday, Sunday, and Monday at The Grocery Store because I wasn't sure when I would start at school, so I'm still out of it.

Alex's bus comes at 6:45, so I get up at 6 and then get Alex up at 6:30, get him ready, feed him breakfast, and walk him out to the bus. Then I run into the house, get Sarah out of bed, and put her in the carseat with a bottle (she eats breakfast at the sitter's). The traffic away from our house is horrendous, so Sarah and I have to leave the house at seven to get to the sitter's house (which takes me ten minutes to get to when there isn't any traffic) at 7:45, so I can get to the school at 8:15.

Wheee.

The Last of the Great Mutant Cucumbers

Alas, growing season is over in our part of the country. The tomato vines had reached monstrous (and seedy) proportions. The cucumber vine had a strangle-hold on everything else in the vegetable bed and started to creep beyond the box. Everything was way beyond its prime, we need to start planting fall crops, and so, the Mutant Cucumber Vine is gone...

...But not before I saved the last few Mutant Cucumbers to share with you!

As you can see, the last of its progeny did not reach the huge proportions of the previous batches, but they're still very odd in shape and color. Although, the one on the right is closer to the shade of a normal cucumber.... Yes? No?

Maybe it's just wishful thinking.

Saladbar No More

Tonight I worked my first shift back at the cash registers. My period as the Saladbar manager at The Grocery Store is now over. Thank God.

As you all might have seen on my sidebar, I got a position as a teacher's assistant at Alex's school, and I am so excited. I'll still be working at The Grocery Store three nights a week to cover babysitting though. The store was remodeled, and after they finished, our store hours were extended to midnight. So, I'm going to be working the 6 PM - 12 AM shift Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The TA position is Monday through Friday from 9 AM - 2 PM, so the hours are perfect for me.

My mom is going to watch Sarah for me two days a week plus the nights that I'm at The Grocery Store. The three nights that I work should just about pay for the three days that I need a sitter. You've gotta love the logistics. I don't know how I would make it work without my mom watching the kids.

I'm not really sure what the whole point of this post was... You see, I'm kind of tired right now, so I don't think that I'm making much sense. Please forgive my rambling, I suppose I just wanted someone to know what was going on.

First Words

Sarah said her first, real, honest-to-goodness word last week.

I mean, she's been babbling and making sounds (that I wishfully interpreted as 'mama') for a while now, but this was different. Language is a funny thing. See, Sarah has been talking for a long time now, at least as far as she saw it. The rest of us just didn't understand her. She finally figured out though, that she had to put together sounds that everyone else could comprehend. Because language isn't just about words, it's about being understood.

What I love about babies and kids is how they never do anything halfway. She had to make such an effort to say that one word. Her face scrunched up, and her lips pursed, "Puuuhh....Puuuhh.....Puuuhhppyyy." Puppy.

Her first word. She had communicated, and she knew it.

The way her face lit up was worth a million dollars.

Fragrant

I just finished pruning back my mom's lavender for the season, and you could smell me from a mile away. I think I'm going to be lavender scented for a week. Man, this thing was unruly. I was knee-deep in that sucker. My mom hadn't trimmed it in a while, can you tell?

I meant to take pictures of the god-awful mess that I made of the patio with all of the clippings and flowers, but I forgot. Of course.

There are two other bushes (Lord help me) that need pruning. I forgot they were there. My mom was kind enough to remind me when I was knee-deep in the other one though.

That'll be a project for tomorrow when Sarah goes down for her nap.

I'll take some pictures of those so you can see the before and after. I wish that I had done it with this one, though, it was a monster.

Woohoo!!!

I got the job!

I am so excited, and this is such a blessing.

They really, really needed a second grade TA(someone backed out at the last minute), so the timing was perfect. The teacher I'm going to be working with is really sweet and she's great with the kids. They're going to start me as soon as I go through the screening process and orientation.

Even better, they have all of their bus driver positions filled, so I'll only be on call. Whew. Don't worry folks, the roads are still safe for now.

I'll try and warn you if they call me in to drive the bus.

Love ya,

Jen

Wish Me Luck!

Keep your fingers crossed, pray for me, tell me to break a leg.

I've got my interview at 10 o'clock this morning, and I am so nervous excited.

This job would mean the world to the kids and I. Hopefully it will be the first step on the road to us becoming independent and moving out of my parent's house. If I get the position, I'm going to be socking away money as much and as quickly as I can.

If I don't get the job though, it's not the end of the world. I'll have to believe that God has bigger and better things in store, that this just wasn't the time or place for me.

Besides, the job requires that I get a bus driver's license. Maybe the world would just be too dangerous if I was driving a bus...

The Lord's Day

The desire to survive keeps us at a mediocre level of living.

John Maxwell


"My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

Galatians 2:20

Dollywood, Finally

Because I know that you're all waiting with bated breath to hear about our trip.

First of all, it takes about four hours to get to Dollywood from where we live, and I have to say that I was dreading it. Sarah screeches like a banshee, I mean this kids has lungs. And her favorite place to display this ability is in the car. Sigh.

So needless to say I was terrified worried that the drive would seem like an eternity. It actually wasn't as bad as I thought, much to my mother's and my relief. Alex didn't care, he was plugged into the DVD player and couldn't hear a thing.

We decided to go to Dollywood the day we drove up because it was supposed to storm the next day. Of course.

Those of you that have braved amusement parks know that they're hard enough to handle when you're well-rested, but throw in a 5am wake-up time and a four-hour drive. Yikes.

We pulled up to the entrance to the park only to be greeted with a honking huge crowd, a forever long line of cars, and a ton of people waiting for the tram to get to the gates. Apparently Dollywood was no longer the quaint little place that I remembered.

With much fear and trepidation we got out of the car, and to make matters worse, Sarah was soaking wet. Apparently I hadn't changed her enough during the trip. *coughcough* So before we even made it into the park, I had to change her into the one extra oufit that I had packed for her. Two day trip. One extra outfit, Not smart. But then again we've already discussed my mental deficiencies when it comes to travel.

When we pulled into the parking lot we couldn't even see the gate, but my mom went ahead and parked where all the other cars were parking. Can we say sheep? Baaaah. This was an interesting insight into human behavior that I'll discuss at another time. I suggested that we might want to drive further into the parking lot to see if there were any other spots, but that didn't happen. We didn't want to wait in the humongous line for the tram so we decided to hoof it.

It was a looooong walk.

There were ten parking spots in the lot by the front gate.

Well, I shelled out the $95.65 for tickets for Alex and I, and we finally made it into the park. I'm surprised they didn't charge me for Sarah...

All in all though, it turned out to be a wonderful day.

Alex rode his first rollercoaster.

He screamed like a girl.

He loved it and promptly drug me on the rest of the coasters in the park.

I screamed like a girl.

He and my mom went on the rapids ride while Sarah and I stood outside and watched. They got soaked.

My mom screamed like a girl.

I have to tell you, that was probably my favorite part of the day.

At the end of the day we were exhausted but happy. We had a wonderful time even though Dollywood isn't the po dunk little amusement park that I remember.

No Water

Let's play a game.

It's called, 'What's wrong with this picture?'

Oooh, oooh, I know! There's no water!

Yup, this is what we woke up to this morning. A water outage. Is that what you call it? Well, it's what I'm going to call it.

Oh wait, progress! (This was a couple hours later.)

Houston, we have lift off!

Thank goodness. Just when I had resigned myself to no shower and fuzzy teeth all day... Shudder.

The water pressure's still not 100%, but hey, I'm not gonna complain.

Mutant Cucumbers!

What? You thought I was kidding?

Nope, this baby is the latest progeny from our vegetable garden.

My mom and I have managed to grow very respectable tomatoes, some lovely basil, and even assorted lettuces. But our cucumbers? They all turn out like this.

It must have something to do with not getting enough sun.

You see, our garden is in a raised bed that my dad built for us, and my mom insisted on over-planting it. I told her she was putting waaaay too many plants in, but did she listen?

Nope.

So this is our penance.

Mutant cucumbers.

To Make Up For Yesterday

As a peace offering for yesterday's post, I thought that I'd post some pictures of the gorgeous flowers that our sweet neighbor, Julie, gave my mom.

Aren't they beautiful?

Julie got them from a vendor at our local farmer's market.

Our produce selection there is, unfortunately, pathetic. Which is ironic considering that produce is the whole point of a farmer's market, but I digress. What we lack in produce, this vendor makes up for in absolutely gorgeous floral arrangements. The photos don't do them justice.

There, isn't that better?

Unfortunately, I have to confess that juvenile outbursts like yesterday's aren't going to be uncommon.

Don't hate me.

Please?


~ Jen

Wait, I've been here before...

The other day I changed Sarah's diaper.

It wasn't two minutes later when I detected that telltale smell... again. Sigh.

Wait a minute, this isn't deja vu, it's deja poo!

We're Back

Yay! We're home!

It was a great trip, but it's good to be home.
We literally just walked in the door, so I'll be posting more about it later tonight or tomorrow.

Missed you guys,

Jen

Chicken Frito Casserole (a.k.a Male Ego Casserole)

I'm still not sure that I completely understand why it's called Male Ego Casserole. My guess is that it's easy to make, and, besides the chiles, there are no vegetables in it. Heck, you don't even have to turn on the oven to make it. It cooks in the microwave.

If any of you have a clue about the name of this casserole, please share, it's killing me.

Anyway, on to the food.

Chicken Frito Casserole (just because this is what I've always called it, and this is my blog. So nyaah.)

- 1 whole rotisserie chicken
- 1 bag of regular Fritos
- 1 small can of mild, diced, green Ortega chiles (unless you really like spicy, but it ruins it in my opinion)
- 1 can of cream of chicken soup
- 1/2 soup can of water
- 3 Tbl of dried, minced onions
- 1 C. shredded cheddar cheese

Okay, roll up your sleeves 'cause we're gonna get messy. Take the rotisserie chicken, pick off every bit of meat that you can and shred it. You don't need to be compulsive about the shredding, we're just looking for bite-sized chunks.

Put the shredded chicken and two-thirds of the Fritos in a 9x13 baking dish, and mix them together.

In a separate bowl mix together the rest of the ingredients.

Pour this mixture over the chicken and Fritos. Mix together.

Take the rest of the Fritos that you set aside and spread them over the top of the casserole.

Now here's the kicker, I know that this will go against most of your grains, put it in the microwave. Just trust me here, I promise that it tastes good. Cook it for six minutes, rotate it halfway, and cook for another six minutes.

Voila! Chicken Frito Casserole.

This is becoming a bad habit...

I really need to post things when I say that I'm going to post them.

Of course if there was actually anyone reading this blog it would be more of a problem.
Ahem, bout of self-pity over, aaand on to the post! Right.

So as I said, yikes, almost a week ago, Alex and I went and saw The Mummy: The Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. I was sadly disappointed. When I first saw The Mummy, I was disappointed because the previews had billed it as a really scary movie, and that's what I went in expecting. I wasn't expecting a somewhat cheesy, almost-parody movie. After I saw it for what it was though, I fell in love with it. It was hysterical. Not to mention Bredan Fraser is really, really sexy in these movies... Coughcough.

I was even okay with The Mummy Returns which was slightly cheesier, but still good. Especially considering that it was a sequel.

This one, however, was just plain bad.

First of all, Rachael Weisz wasn't in it which just ruined it for me. I think that she and Brendan Fraser have really good on-screen chemistry. The scenes involving their grown son and the parental angst that they have over not being good enough parents were just stilted and hopelessly cheesy. The whole thing was just so flat to me. It didn't have any of the depth or the character of the previous movies. Sigh.

It's really too bad because I liked the first two so much.

Alex, on the other hand, gave it an extremely enthusiastic thumbs up. Siskel and Ebert he's not.

Vacation!

My mom, Alex, Sarah, and I are going on a road trip. We're going to Dollywood, whee! I know, I know, terribly backwoods of us, but hey, when in Rome...

Just kidding, I've been to Dollywood once before when I was in junior high, and I really enjoyed myself. It had all sorts of neat crafty things as well as rides and shows. It has a whole street with nothing but craftsman stores and shops like a blacksmith, basketweaving, candlemaking. I love stuff like that.

I also love that there aren't going to be millions of people there like there would be at another big box amusement park *coughDisneylandcough* that I won't mention.

So, while I'm gone I'm going to use the nifty little schedule posts function. I know that I wouldn't want to disappoint my readers. *cricketschirping*

I'll see you guys in a few days, be good while I'm gone.

Love ya,

Jen

Library Fines

The whole point of going to the library is that it's free, right?

Well, that doesn't help when I'm not able to get to the library and return the FIVE videos which that I checked out for Alex. Videos which cost a dollar a day PER VIDEO every day that they're late. Sigh.

I really do think that I'm my own worst enemy.

When I go to return the overdue videos and pay the piper, so to speak, the differences between Southern California and North Carolina make themselves very clear. That's why I love this place so much.

Picture this scene:

I walk into the library, kids in tow, put the overdue videos in the drop-box, heave a huge sigh, and go up to the counter.

I hand the girl behind the counter Alex's library card because I'm not sure which card the videos were rented on.

Biting the bullet, I fess up right away, "There's going to be some fines on our card, I'm not sure which one they're on though."

She scans the card in and looks at the computer, "Okay, let's see... Nope, not on this one."

I dig out my library card, "They must be on this one then."

She scans in my card. "Oh."

Yeah.

In Southern California, my astronomical fines wouldn't have caused the cranky woman behind the counter to bat an eyelash. In this case though, the librarian leans closer to me, and whispers, "You owe $19 in overdue fines."

I guess she didn't want to humiliate me.

Bless her heart.

The Lord's Day

"God leads us onward as we journey. He also leads us with care and love as He leads us with purpose and intent."

Ouch

I have the upper cartilage in my ear pierced. This,

is what my earring used to look like.

This,

is what it looks like now. This damage was done while it was
In. My. Ear.

I was at work, bending over to undo the drain on a sink, and when I stood up, my earring caught on the edge of the sink. I honestly thought that I had ripped it out of my ear.

Yeah.

Ouch.

Lord Help Me,

I went and saw The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor with Alex tonight. Yikes.

Gory details and review tomorrow.

I did enjoy the pizza and having a night out with just my boy though.

Toodles,

Jen

Cooking Lessons

I made dinner with my boy last night.

We made chicken and wild rice soup, fresh baked bread, and lemon bars for dessert. It was wonderful to be able to spend time with just him. I feel horrible because my attention is usually so divided, and I admit that he gets ignored sometimes because he is more self-sufficient than he should be. I forget that he is only seven.

So yesterday was a rare moment of uninterrupted time. My daughter was down for a nap, my parents and our family that's visiting from Ohio were at a movie, and my brother was out with friends.

It was just us, and it was lovely.

I showed him how to chop vegetables, and, of course, he had to do the rest by himself. We simmered and seasoned and tasted. He learned how to deglaze a pan (hey, you're never too young). We talked and joked and laughed. And I got to spend time with my son who is turning into a young man much too fast.

I need to remember to slow down. To take advantage of the moments instead of worrying about the days. To appreciate the little things because it is the little things that my kids will never forget, and they are growing up way too quickly.

Something's Gotta Give

And I'm really starting to worry that it might be me. 

As much as I am so deeply grateful to my parents for taking us in, things are starting to reach a boiling point. It's starting to wear on everybody. 

The kids and I make things difficult for my mom, and she has to babysit for me a few days a week while I go to work because I can't afford daycare. My teenage brother has no respect for the fact that there are small kids in the house, and his lifestyle reflects it. I've tried talking to him, but all I get out of him is outright hostility. My parents try to stay out of how I raise my children, but it's difficult when you live in the same house. That is wearing on me more than I want to admit. 

My job sucks. Let's face it, I'm working part-time at a grocery store for $8.40 an hour. I can't support my kids on that. I want things to work out with my husband, but I also have to look out for my kids. We've been through this sort of situation before, and he has fallen back into the same habits. As much as I want this to work, I can't stick my head in the sand and not have something to rely on in case things end badly. I have to get a better job. I've never been in the real workforce, I've only worked in retail jobs and I am totally clueless in regards to job hunting. 

So this is my to-do list for myself:

- Find housing

- Look into daycare

- Find a better job


The simplicity of that list belies the sheer amount of misery behind it. All the heartache, stress, and fear. 

God help me, Lord knows that I can't do this on my own. 

Geez I'm feeling sorry for myself tonight. 

It's All About Perspective

When Alex was six, his cousins got this new, swank car. Needless to say, the DVD player was the source of a lot of bragging whenever he rode in their car with them. Sigh.

One night, we all went out to dinner and I ended up taking my niece and nephew in our car which is a beat up, run-down, piece of crap, '95 Toyota 4Runner. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my truck, but it doesn't hold a candle to the shiny new Beamer SUV with the back-seat DVD player. 

At some point, in a vain attempt to keep my car clean, I had hung one of those fabric trash cans from the back of the front seat. Hang in there with me, I promise that this is relevant to the story. 

So the kids pile into the car, and my son, God bless him, says (with the enthusiasm that only a six-year-old can muster), "Well, our car doesn't have a DVD player, but it has a trash can! Isn't that cool?"

Have I mentioned before that I love that kid?

Trifle Recipe. I know, I know, I promised to have it up yesterday...

Sorry, with church and family stuff, things got out of hand and I never got around to posting it. Okay, enough excuses. On to the recipe.

Well, it's not a recipe per se. It's more of a... methodology I suppose. You can change ingredients as the mood suits you, and I promise that you can't screw it up. Well, I take that back. If you're the type that can burn water then maybe you could screw this up, but it's very difficult to do (mess it up, I mean.) 

Summer Fruit Trifle

- 1 package of yellow cake mix 

  and the ingredients that you need to make the cake
- Jell-o Vanilla pudding mix and, you guessed it, 

  the ingredients that it takes to make the pudding
- 1 Peach cut into slices
- 1 package of raspberries
- 1 small package of strawberries sliced


Make the cake "according to the package directions." I can't believe I just said that...
Aaaannnyway, same with the pudding. 

If you're really crunched for time, you can certainly use a pre-made cake and pre-made pudding. Not that I've ever done that of course... coughcough.

Now, find yourself a nice glass container. It really doesn't matter what you use. I used a plastic punch bowl up until my mother-in-law got me a gorgeous trifle bowl for Christmas one year. A honest to goodness Trifle bowl. Specifically for Trifle. I didn't even know that they made such a thing until I got one, but I digress. 

Once you've finished making the cake and the pudding, let both of them cool a bit. Then, take that beautiful cake that you've just meticulously baked and crumble it into tiny bits. Sorry. 

Now we're going to layer it into your container. Half of the cake, then half of the pudding, then (are we sensing a theme yet?) half of your fruit. Repeat the process, arranging your fruit nicely on the top layer. You wanna flaunt it folks because, let's face it, Trifle looks ridiculously impressive once you're done with it even though it's dead simple to make. 

Well, there you have it. A trifle. Good luck, and please let me know how it turns out if you get around to making one. I'd love to see pictures too, and I promise that I'll get around to posting mine up. Technical difficulties you know.

Please don't feel constrained to just this one way of doing it though. This dessert is really fun to play around with, and of course you sometimes have to be flexible depending on what fruit is in season. I once made a really wicked no-fruit version that consisted of chocolate cake, dulche de leche ice cream topping, Cool Whip, and chopped nuts. My friends, it was sinfully, insanely, ridiculously decadent and rich and I haven't made it since. Probably something to do with not wanting to have my thighs expand exponentially...

So be free, go nuts, be creative, and let me know what you make.

Love ya,

~ Jen

The Lord's Day

"Turn to me in mercy, as you always do to those who love your name. Steady my footsteps in your word; let no iniquity have dominion over me. Rescue me from those who oppress me, and I will keep your commandments. Let your countenance shine upon your servant and teach me your statutes."

- Psalm 119: 132-135

Trifle

Just finished making a trifle with the leftovers from my daughter's first birthday cake that we had saved in the freezer. 

I'd forgotten how much I love making these, I haven't done one in a while.

Pictures and recipe forthcoming tomorrow. 

'Night.

I'm A Klutz

Yesterday was not a good day for the floor in the back room of The Grocery Store. Nope. It was a messy, wet, sad day for that floor. I'm sure that it's had a lot more of these days since I started working at the salad bar. 

Of course the messiest one was all my own fault. 

I tried to carry too much, and I knew it too. As I piled stuff together in order to pick it up I told myself, ‘Self,’ (we often have these conversations,) 'Self, you’re going to drop something, and I can bet that that something  you’re going to drop is the container of bacon bits which will pop open and spray all over the floor.’ 

Unfortunately, I should have listened to me...

It was a red-letter day. I thought nothing could top dropping a huge chunk of ice which shattered and sprayed bits and pieces all over the floor, but I was wrong. 

Of course, neither of these things comes close to the hat-rack fiasco. But, that's another story for another day. 

Love ya,

~ Jen

It Makes A Mother Proud

So my mom took my son into "The Grocery Store" the other day while I was at work. They weren't at my store, but I wish they had been, it would have been priceless.  They were at the one across town. 

They finished shopping and got up to the checkout stand. And my son, talkative little thing that he is, started chatting with the cashier. It went something like this:

Alex*: "Hi, how are you?"

Cashier: "Good, how are you doing?"

Alex: "Good. My mom works at "The Grocery Store." "

Cashier: "Oh! Really? Does she like her job?"

Alex: "Not really. She says the pay is pretty lousy."

Cashier: "Oh." Her face fell and she said, "Well, we'll keep that our little secret."

Gosh I love that kid. 

* I've decided against using my kids real names in my blog. So, no, this isn't his real name, but he did pick it out himself. ; )

The Lord's Day

The message at church today was about courage. So, following my pastor's lead, I will quote the eminent philosopher and theologian John Wayne:

"Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway."

- John Wayne

Dinner anyone?

Well, my folks are out of town for the week, they've left us with mighty slim provisions, and I've run out of money. So, what's a girl to do? My fallback method: scour the fridge and freezer to see what protein you have available and then search the internet for recipes that fit what you have. Sad, I know.

In my rummage of the freezer I came across a roll of Jimmy Dean Sausage, and after my search of the Jimmy Dean website (it only made sense) I settled on this recipe. I hope my arteries can forgive me. I'll probably serve it with scrambled eggs. I suppose it's high time that I make biscuits and gravy considering I'm living in the South. Sheesh. You'd think I'd get with the program a little quicker. 

Well I'll let you guys know how it turned out. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

*Update* 

My grandmother came over to visit, and she took us to Taco Bell for dinner. Alas, I remain uninitiated, but I can make a mean glass of sweet tea.  

Juxtaposition

jux·ta·po·si·tion [juhk-stuh-puh-zish-uhn]

 –noun

1.an act or instance of placing close together or side by side, esp. for comparison or contrast.

2.the state of being close together or side by side.

I thought this appropriate considering the last two posts I made. Especially because this post seems like such a contradiction coming after this one. I swear it's not. I was in such a dark, dark place that night, and I am still struggling. 

On Sunday, though, God spoke to me with such tenderness and He gave me such peace. What's even more amazing to me was that I wasn't at our regular church. My kids and I decided to go with my parents to their church because we were all going out together as a family afterwards. I was raised Lutheran and my parents attend a traditional Lutheran church, but I personally am a non-denominational Christian and I tend to gravitate towards churches that are contemporary. 

This Sunday, however, I was so moved by the hymns that we sang. In those songs I could hear God whispering to me. But the message was what grabbed my heart. He spoke directly to all of the doubts and fears and insufficiencies that I had been struggling with recently. 

Don't worry Jennifer, when this world is not enough, when you are not enough, when your fears are overwhelming, I am here to catch you. 

When the world speaks scarcity, God is sufficient. When the world tells me to fear, my God gives me peace. When I fall, he is my catcher. When I don't have enough, he provides. Where I cannot, he can and he will because he loves me. 

What peace.

The Lord's Day

"For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, 

     and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

making it bring forth and sprout,  

     giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, 

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; 

     it shall not return to me empty,

but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, 

     and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. 

For you shall go out in joy,  

     and be led back in peace;

the mountains and the hills before you

     shall burst into song,

     and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;

    instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; 

and it shall be to the LORD for a memorial,

     for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off."

 

~ Isaiah 55:10-13

 God is good.

Struggling

I'm exhausted. 

I've been up since 4:30 this morning, but it's more than that. This is a mental, emotional, spiritual exhaustion. I'm really not sure how much more of this I can handle, and the hell of it is I don't have any choice. I have to handle it whether I want to or not because it's not just me in this boat. I have two kids getting dragged along through this mess that they didn't ask for, and what kills me is knowing that I did this to them. When things are hard, when my son misses his dad and his cousins, when we don't have enough, when I'm gone because I have to work, I have to live with the fact that my choices have caused this. 

Now I don't mean this in regards to the separation. My husband is at fault for that, and I stand by my decision to leave. 

No, I mean in a broader sense. It was my choice that caused me to get pregnant so young, to marry a boy instead of a man, to bring another child into a marriage that I knew in my heart of hearts was in trouble. It's all these things that I'm guilty of. 

I cherish my children. I will never, ever regret them. But I regret each second of pain and hardship that my selfishness and stupidity has caused them. 

I have screwed up so monumentally that I don't know how I can ever make it okay. I won't say 'right' because I don't think that I can ever make it right. But I hope for okay. I hope for good. My faith tells me that God can bring me out of these ruins that I've pulled down around myself and my children, but everything else in me says otherwise. 

I am trying to cling to God's promises, but it is so hard in the muck and the mire of the everyday. I am filled with so much self-doubt and fear. I'm so far down in this hole that I don't see how I'm ever going to get out. 

I found Hell on Earth...

It's a five hour and forty-two minute (was I counting? Oh, you betcha.) flight with a just-turned-one-year-old.

Lord help me, it was horrendous.

First of all, security regulations. 

Don't even get me started on the logistics of bringing along bottles for your baby with all of the new security regulations. 

My daughter recently switched to milk instead of formula. And, stupid me, assumed that because of the regulations regarding liquids and gels that I wouldn't be able to bring along prepared bottles. You read that right, I embarked on an almost six hour flight with no milk for my baby. Oh, the depths of my stupidity. Just so you all don't think that I'm totally insane/cruel, I did bring along cheerios and other snacks. But still, no bottle=no sleeping and an extremely unhappy baby.

On the first leg I had enough time to buy a few little cartons of milk (for an exorbitantly high price I might add) for her bottles. On the second, and much longer, leg of the trip I wasn't so lucky. We only had a half an hour layover in Atlanta. Yikes. This gave us enough time to schlep everyone off the plane with all our crap, run to our gate, take one look at the horrendously crowded ladies room and wait outside the men's room (with much fear and trepidation) while my seven-year-old son went to the bathroom by himself, schlep ourselves and all our crap onto the next plane where we proceeded to sit for forty-five minutes because of delays. 

Oh, the ironies of my life.

Needless to say, the flight was hellish. I was able to get a carton of milk from one of the flight attendants which got us through the first half of the flight. The second half, however, involved an extremely wiggly baby who desperately needed to sleep and absolutely refused to without a bottle. Sigh. After about an hour of fighting sleep and being totally cranky, one of the flight attendants (God bless her) washed out one of our bottles and filled it with water for me. I really didn't think that it would work, but at this point I have the feeling that my daughter was just as desperate as I was. She finally slept. Oh bliss. 

The rest of the trip was a blur, but we made it to California in one piece. Exhausted, but in one piece. 

While I was in California, one of my friends suggested checking the TSA website to see what their regulations are in regards to baby bottles. Apparently, in an effort to avoid nightmarish trips like mine, the TSA in their infinite wisdom allows you to bring along full baby bottles and an ice-pack to keep them cold... 

God I'm an idiot. 

It was nice while it lasted...

My vacation from the salad bar is over. Sigh.

I was up at 4am this morning, and I'll be up at 4am tomorrow. I'm going to bed. If anyone's listening, Good night, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite.

... and don't mind the monsters under the bed, they're just as scared of you as you are of them.

Love ya,

Jen

The Lord's Day

"Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty. This I declare about the Lord: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; he is my God, and I trust him."

~ Psalm 91:1-2 NLT 

Independence Day

I hope everyone had a great Fourth, I know we did.

Being from Orange County, I can't tell you what an absolute pleasure it was to be able to buy and set off fireworks.

Us Californians are so deprived.

Oh my goodness, my seven-year-old and I went to buy them, and we were like kids in a candy store. I asked the man running the booth which ones were good for first-timers like us to set off, and he kindly pointed us in the right direction. Thank God. If we were left to our own devices we probably would have blown ourselves up.

The day was spent in anticipation of the fireworks. We had gone to the town fireworks show the evening before, and it was fantastic. Samantha was absolutely enthralled and not one bit scared. She sat in my lap and stared up at the display, laughing and clapping.

Alex had a fantastic time too. All of our Fourth of July's had been spent at my mother-in-law's house watching several shows from far away. This was his first up close and personal fireworks show.

Of course setting off fireworks in our cul-de-sac was the ultimate. We had so much fun. One of Alex's friends and her parents came over to watch as well. The kids set off smoke bombs and snakes first, and then we brought out the big guns.

I thought that I'd start small and set of the street roses first. Yikes. One of them misfired and shot straight off to the side instead of spinning in place like it was supposed to. Thank God I didn't have it facing the other direction, it would have shot right into the middle of everyone. Shudder.


The last ones we shot off weren't just fountains, they actually shot up into the air like honest to goodness fireworks.

It was almost more than this deprived Californian gal could handle.

Happy Fourth Everybody!

I hope everyone has a happy and safe Fourth.

And please, try not to set yourselves or any loved ones on fire, okay?

~ Jen

I'll Tell You A Secret...

I want my own room. 

This isn’t some casual want as in, ‘Hmm, I think I want a cup of coffee this morning.’ No, this is a deep longing. The type of longing usually reserved for lifelong dreams and ambitions. 

My kids, are noisy when they sleep. 

My son is prone to sudden, loud, startle me and make me fall out of my bed outbursts of talking in his sleep. These aren’t quiet mumblings of a sleeping child. No, these little episodes often involve yelling and even when they don’t, they are always loud. 

And as if this weren't enough, my darling baby daughter who turned one a month ago, has recently developed the lovely habit of banging her head against the mattress in the middle of the night. She also loves to get on her hands and knees and rock back and forth. This wouldn’t be such a big deal, but she sleeps in a Pack and Play which creaks whenever she rocks. 

So, almost every night at 2am I’m woken up by:

creak CREAK creak CREAK creak CREAK thumpthumpthumpthumpthump creak CREAK creak CREAK creak CREAK thumpthumpthumpthumpthump creak CREAK creak CREAK creak CREAK thumpthumpthumpthumpthump ...I think you get the idea. Sigh.

Why does a self-respecting, 26-year-old, mother of two not have her own room you ask? Because, dear reader, as I've mentioned before, I find myself in the unenviable position of having had to move back in with my parents (whom I'm eternally grateful to by the way.) But still, would you join me in a moment of silence for the loss of my independence... 

Saladbar Rules

The first rule about Saladbar is: You Do Not Talk About Saladbar.

The second rule about Saladbar is... just kidding. Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

But seriously folks, during my employment at what will hereafter be reffered to as 'The Grocery Store', I've picked up some interesting insights into human behavior thus spawning the Saladbar Rules.

1. If I only have a little of something left, people will demolish it. It doesn't matter if they haven't touched it with a ten-foot pole on other days, it will be gone in ten seconds flat and I'll have to refill it five seconds after setting up the salad bar.

2. People. Are. Messy. And I do mean disgustingly messy. I suppose they figure that someone else *coughhack *me* coughhack* will come and clean up behind them so it doesn't matter if they spray parmesan cheese all over the bacon bits and three salads deep on the other side of the saladbar.

3. If I'm low on containers and we can't find them anywhere in the back of the store because my manager never ordered them, people will smell it like blood in the water and flock to the salad bar so they can complain to the managers about how badly run it is.

4. Untensils migrate. You would think that it wouldn't be difficult for someone to figure out that a utensil is meant to be used for the food it's placed in, but apparently that's much too mentally taxing for some people. They just don't understand why you can't use the cottage cheese spoon to scoop out strawberries. ::shudder::

5. Utensils walk. Now this one I really, truly, do not understand. Why in the world someone would want to walk off with tongs or a large salad bar spoon, I will never know.

Our salad bar prices things by the pound.

$5.99 to be exact.

No, I'm not kidding.

Yes, it's ridiculously expensive.

Yes, people will pay for it.

Occasionally.

Which leads me to rule number six of the salad bar:

6. If someone's put too much stuff in their salad bar container, apparently not noticing the $5.99/lb sign (which is very large, and obnoxious, and therefore, difficult to miss) it is perfectly acceptable to stow said salad behind things, on a shelf, in another part of the store, where it won't be found until the night crew stocks the shelves, and it will have ample opportunity to get throroughly disgusting. Lovely.

An Introduction

I suppose that I should start all of this by explaining the 'temporarily ' in my Blog description. Even though it's of great importance to me, it's not too terribly exciting. Sorry for any suspense that I might have built up.

My husband and I are separated, thus prompting my exodus from the sunny O.C. to the sunny, humid, mosquito-ridden, often plagued by thunderstorms, but beautiful N.C.

For those of you that are interested, if there actually is anyone reading this, my name is Jennifer and at the ripe old age of twenty-six I find myself in the unenviable position of having had to move back in with my parents.

With two kids.

In a place roughly three thousand miles away (but universes in regards to society and culture) from the place I grew up in.

Yeah. Welcome to my life.

I really don't know that anyone besides me and maybe a few friends will find this interesting, but it might at least be amusing to someone out there. I also wanted to start this blog in an attempt to document this journey I'm going through. Call it an experiment. Perhaps, when I come out of the other side of this thing that I'm going through, I'll want to look back on it and see what I survived and what lessons I learned from it.

So, if you're reading this, I hope that you find it entertaining. If you're bored, I'm sorry. But you see, I'm awfully short on friends right now, so even if you're bored I'd love to hear from you. So, leave a comment and I promise I'll read it. If you don't, I understand. I'll keep writing anyway. I've unfortunately become very good at talking to myself. But that's okay, I'm a very good listener.

Here goes nothing,

~ Jen