Really Murphy?

MURPHYS LAW: When thy husband is on vacation, thy children shall be struck by strep throat, and thy garden pipe shall burst turning your yard, and the church parking lot behind you, into an olympic size skating rink.

I had to post some awkward pictures (who ARE these dudes?) Because lets face it. . .even on a day like today, I guy doing the splits in front of a christmas tree is a little funny. And today, I NEED FUNNY.

So here's the deal:
I gave Mr. B (my husby) Redskins/Cowboys tickets and a plane ticket home to VA for his birthday back in May. Exciting. . . right? Best wife of the year award. . .right? Especially since it ended up being 'THE' game determining who goes to playoffs. . .anywho back to my story. So I send Mr. B off last week and what do you know? My little girl comes down with Strep, Croup, and a double ear infection the next day.
So that night lil baby T. gets sick too. Followed by my oldest. So that's not fun. Especially since all of them had fevers of 103 and were crying all day and all night. Luckily the other 2 didn't catch it. yet.
Today they woke up feeling better. So I send Aidy off to the tub and when he gets out he comes running downstairs telling me water is spraying all over the backyard.
I look outside, and there it is. . . .a beautiful skating rink developing in my garden area, running behind my yard and onto the church parking lot below.
I bust a move (in my awesome jammies) and grab the nearest shoes, coat, and my long pipe-water-turner-offer and head for the front yard where I know SOMEWHERE under a foot of snow, is the pipe to turn the water off. So I'm shoveling snow in my flats, yelling at kids to find a neighbor to come help me because for the LIFE of me I can't get the dang thing to turn off. Why can't more men be home at 3 pm on a Monday afternoon?
Brother C. is home HALLELUJAH! and runs over to help (as he has a vested interest since said skating rink was developing in his yard)
PROBLEM: some sweet little child somewhere in the world has filled our pipe with dirt and rocks. Well that's awesome of them. So Brother C. spends 20 minutes twisting and banging trying to get out the mud, dirt, and break up whatever rock is in the way. (He had special talent in this too since a sweet child somewhere in the world put a rock in his too). So then my boys start yelling the water is off.
By now, poor Bro. C. is frozen standing there in 10 degrees in a t shirt, I apologize and say thank you about 500 times totally feeling like nothing I can possibly say will make this man understand how grateful I am.
I kind of wanted to cry by then. Especially since little girl locked me out of the house for a minute and I could hear baby and she both crying inside.
And then I start thinking about what other pipes are busted underground and how THATS going to go down trying to sell our house and then I start panicking. . .what if we can't sell this dang house? What if everyone that walks through my house HATES my house, thinks the color of the walls are atrocious, and that my yard is too weedie? That's when I do a quick check. Ok, just because the kids have strep, and a pipe burst, doesn't mean everyone hates the color paint on my walls. Seriously Angie? Is this what it's coming to now?
ahhhh, what a day what a day. Now the kids are playing, the baby is sleeping, I'm still in my pajammies, and blogging my adventures of the day and feeling much better about things. Time to catch up on 'Sister Wives'. Good night!

Perfectionism

So I did it. I deleted my facebook page from my iphone, my ipad, the kindle fire, it's all gone. I feel fantastic about it.
I think I need a facebook cleanse. Ever feel the need to have a healthy disconnect? I even deleted pinterest. I know. . .I get anxiety just THINKING about the withdrawls without pinterest.
So my reason is this: For the new year I need a fresh start. I don't need to remind myself of everything I wish I had time for, talent for, beauty for, ambition for etc. The fact is when I turn off the tv and enjoy the NOW in my own home. . . I feel better and I find a lot more joy. The REAL joy that comes from what I want and not from what a magazine, a stranger, or my own insecurities demand I should want.
I'm not disconnecting forever. . .I just need a refocus to get MYSELF back in balance.
Which leads me to my New Years Resolution . . .drum roll please! . . . .ok wait I'm not ready for the drum roll. First I have to tell you about this book I'm reading.
HELLO WONDERFUL!!! Have you heard of Brene Brown? Ok, if you haven't, EVERYONE needs a little Brene Brown in their life. She is a shame specialist. I know what you're thinking "oh awesome. . .just what I need, another SELF HELP BOOK". No no my friend, this is not what you think. We all deal with shame and most of us don't even have a label for it.
If you're like me, you live your entire life walking around wondering why at the first sign of someone actually looking in your eyes and listening to the words coming out of your mouth, you suddenly become paralyzed, start muttering and mumbling, and completely go blank in the head. And I'm not talking just in big crowds. I'm talking when there are like. . . .2 whole people in the room.
Or if you're out with friends and someone mentions something about you looking tired and suddenly you find an excuse to leave and on the way home you go pound 5 eclaires from Kneaders and wash it down with a 1200 calorie smoothie.
So one thing I realized this past year: I'm a perfectionist. No. Not the good kind. There is not good kind.
HAHAHA. . .laugh it up I know you are busting a gut over this one because if you've been to my house and have seen the five thousand toys strewn over the floor, the pile of laundry that is 5 feet tall, and 3 days dishes in the sink, you might be rolling your eyes right now.
Here are a few quotes from Brene Brown that explains a little more in detail what I'm getting at:
"Perfectionism is not the same thing as striving to be your best. Perfectionism is not about healthy achievement and growth. Perfectionism is a twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it's the thing that's really preventing us from taking flight."
"Perfectionism is not self-improvement. Perfectionism is, at it's core, about trying to earn approval and acceptance. Perfectionism is other-focused---What will they think?"
"Life-Paralysis referes to all of the opportunities we miss because we're too afraid to put anything out in the world that could be imperfect. It's also all of the dreams that we don't follow because of our deep fear of failing, making mistakes, and disappointing others. It's terrifying to risk when you're a perfectionist; your self-worth is on the line.
"Perfectionism is a self-destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought; If I look perfect, live perfectly, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgement, and blame."
So I'm a perfectionist out of the closet. And to also quote Brene Brown, I'm now on my quest to be come a 'good-enoughist'.
It's the reason I won't let friends come over un announced (unless you're Laura because I know she's seen me at my worst and assures me she loves me anyway). It's the reason I won't speak in church, even pray in church. It's the reason I can't go out with friends as much as I want to. Because I'm worried I'll say something 'not cool' or maybe I'll be boring. Or maybe someone won't like my personality. Or maybe I'll say something politically incorrect (that I OBVIOUSLY got from my husband lol) or maybe I'll wear cute heals that I think are cute until I have to WALK in them and then I stumble all over myself. Or maybe. . . .gasp. . . .I'll be driving, talking and completely miss my exit to the movie theatre like I've done 5000 times because I can't multi task. It might sound stupid, but it's enough to keep me home sometimes.
Ok so heres my point. We have been so severely BLASTED with perfectionism in the media, socially, by peers, magazines, tv etc we don't even know what we really WANT anymore. We just know the 'supposed to's'. How sad. I can't have my daughter grow up like that. I want my boys to be independent and confident and have a desire to take over the world. (luckily they will inherit that from their Dad) But I found in my own life I won't do anything if there is risk involved.
So guess what I did this year? I surrendered all of it. Living in fear is EXHAUSTING in case any of you have tried it out there! So I decided to live life to it's fullest and not let things hold me back anymore.
Scotty and I made vision boards 2 years ago and he has achieved and gained 99% of the things on his board. I've gained almost the same. Seriously. Biggest skeptic EVER here and now I'm a little embarassed I didn't do it sooner.
So I'm making a new vision board this year. It'll include a big garden, a Newfoundland dog, my new beautiful home, and a church history tour.
As for my BIGGEST accomplishment this coming year . . . .now we can drum roll. . . .I'm detoxing my body from all the disgusting junk food I've shoveled down my throat for 31 years and am getting myself UN-addicted to sweets. Yes. This will make Angie history. I am going healthy. I am cutting out the sugar and carbs (YES CARBS IN ALL THEIR FORMS) and I am going to conquer this ONE battle that I have been beaten by year after year.
So here's the book you need to read. "Why we get fat" by Taubes. No I don't think I'm fat. I think I'm addicted. I KNOW I'm addicted. To sweets and carbs. And anything else with a cream filling or icing on top.
So here I go. Wish me luck! And google some Brene Brown youtube clips. Seriously. You'll love her. Cheers to vulnerability.

This morning has already been chaotic and crazy. Does anyone else wake up to children fighting?! GRRR!!! My frustration lasted all of 15 minutes until my little daughter came in my room wearing her princess dress, moon boots and chocolate milk spilled all down the front of her. My first thought was "oh my china town she is so stinkin cute". My following thought was "If there's that much chocolate milk spilled down the front of her, I wonder whats waiting for me downstairs".
Being a mom is exhausting. And awesome.
I think we need to get over one serious false belief in our society. If we reach out and need to vent a little about the frustrations of motherhood, this does NOT mean we don't value being a mother! I have been DROWNING in guilt for years over this concept.
There are days I really am just so exhausted, and so worn out from being covered in spit up, lacking a shower for 3 days, crunching cereal when I walk, or looking at the ENDLESS mountain of laundry that has permenently swallowed my bedroom. Sometimes I just have to lay on my bed, lock my door and attempt to ignore the children banging on the outside demanding to come in. Sometimes I need to get out a good cry and punch a few pillows.
And ya know what? I'm not a terrible mom for giving myself a lockdown in the bedroom for 10 minutes. In fact isn't that a sign you're an awesome mom because you care so much and are trying so hard? And it certainly doesn't mean I want any other job than to be a mom. I have more joy in my life with my children than I ever imagined I could have. But being frustrated and exhausted doesn't mean it takes away from my joy. It means God gave me a big heart with room for it all.
So. this is my morning:
Kids fighting
Lock myself in my room for 10 minutes and get out my cry ahead of time.
Help put on pretty dresses
Give Wesley a hug
Listen to Aidan tell me about the latest Full House Episode
Grab a slim fast for breakfast (but what I really wanted was a breakfast burrito)
Change poopy pants
Grab a bottle for Tommy
Clean AnnMaries 5000 books she pulled from her bookshelf
Remember I have a house showing at 12:30 and go into crazy psycho mommy "GET THIS HOUSE CLEAN RIGHT THIS SECOND AND DON'T GIVE ME ANY LIP ABOUT IT OR YOUR ALL GROUNDED FOR A YEAR" moment.
Frantically clean, scrub, throw dishes in the dishwasher, vacuum all the beans up from the 'dont spill the beans' game. .. .oh well . . .
Remember I had laundry in the washer yesterday. . .DANG not again.
Break up a fight over club penguin
Run the trash out so my house doesn't stink of old diapers and pull ups
Spill a new chocolate milk spill
Go into my 2nd psycho mommy moment of "I AM NOT KIDDING! IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ROOMS CLEAN I AM GOING TO THROW YOU OUTSIDE IN YOUR UNDERWEAR SO HELP ME YOU KNOW I WILL" moment.
Remember there is spilled nail polish in my bathroom
Grab scissors and ever so carefull cut out each fiber of the carpet that has nail polish on it and then vacuum over it hoping you'll never notice. ARGH.
Run downstairs, throw coats on the children, buckle baby up, jump into the car, sit there for 30 seconds in silence when I hear my 8 year old say. "Wow mom. This is a crazy day".
We all bust out laughing and I rest my head on the steering wheel and I 'have a moment' to think what kind of therapy my children are going to have to pay for when they become adults. Holy smokes.
So now I'm sitting at my mothers, who is at a funeral I think, and she has no idea I have brought the tribe with me to take over her house for 2 hours while we wait and I stew about all the comments this couple is making about what a disaster my house is, why I have so many scuffs on my walls, and why that dang bathroom is still half painted.
Oh the guilt.
But when it gets down to it, I'm listening to my children laughing, and if the couple looking at my house is disgusted with it, I don't want them living there anyway. I need a family to come in, think what a wonderfully lived in house we have, and bring their crew of kids with them to live in a well loved, well used, and well worn home.

But now the thought crosses my mind. . .I think I may have left a little pile of florescent red stained carpet fibers on my counter top in a little pile to be thrown into the trash.
Oh boy.

I admit. I wanted somewhere I could tell my opinions, my dreams, my unrealistic decorating desires, my recipes (even my failed ones), my thoughts, my creativity, my ambitions, my failures, and well . . . .just a place to get downright awkward and vulnerable. So what better place to start than a public blog? (insert sarcasm)

Ok I admit, even creating this blog gives me a little anxiety but I think it'll be good for me. I admit furthermore that I actually had to get on my ipads notepad, type in the word 'awkward' to make sure I had spelled it right. Luckily I had. So there's my first embarrassing confessions for the day.

Sorry, SQUIRREL! (another word I just had to spell check). Back to vulnerability. So since blogs are usually put together nicely with beautiful pictures and DIY ideas, and recipes of their great dinner success's, I need to warn you, this is not that blog.

I'm just going to get downright awkward sometimes. Maybe you'll squirm when I tell you that I didn't like the 'wear pants to church' movement by women in the church. It might get more awkward when I tell you I've been known, more than once, to stuff 3 days worth of dishes in my pantry just so my visiting teachers wouldn't know I haven't kept up the house. And I can guarantee you, you will consider rolling your eyes and clicking that red box with an x in it on your right upper corner of the screen, when I tell you that I have the same load of laundry sitting in my washer a WEEK after I put it in there originally and I've washed it nearly every day because I forgot about it the day before.

So if you're still here. . . .Welcome :)

So here's my first little 'shame' kick.

I just ate 15 vanilla cookies while sitting in the pantry with a glass of milk.

I don't let my kids eat the last Swiss cake roll. I hide it for later.

I didn't make my kids do their school today. I was too tired.

I didn't get out any Christmas decorations besides the Christmas tree. My wreaths have been sitting on my table for 3 weeks.

My bathroom has been partially painted for 6 months and every week I've had intentions of finishing it.

I had to look up long division for Aidan's school because I couldn't remember how to do it.

Sometimes I will make a cake just so I can eat a pound of the batter. (yes, I am aware of the sweet tooth theme I have going here. . .it's an addiction confession for another post on another day)

There are so many things that go through my head that allow me to define myself as a selfish or not enough. A five minute conversation with the supermom next door and we go home determined to finally get control of our lives. And then, to jump start it, we grab the last carton of rocky road ice-cream and turn on sense and sensibility to make ourselves feel better.

Well enough of that crazy business. From what I understand, even the super decorator bloggers spill paint and snap at their kids once in a while. (I'd LOVE to hear a post on that one)

So this is the get real and get awkward blog. It's the most invigorating and satisfying journey I've been on. Getting real with myself and being ok with imperfection. I get kinda irritated when people tell me my life is 'so put together' and I seem to 'have it all'. Well guess what? My life is chaotic and stressful and frustrating, and wonderful and full of joy and happiness. But it's topped with crushed fruit loops, spilled milk, dirty bathrooms, and tillers that have sat in my garden for 13 months straight with good intentions.

It's topped on top of that with a lot of hugs, books, laughing, traveling, kisses from my sexy beast husband, and snuggles with the cutest 5 children to have ever walked this planet. I do have it ALL! The good the bad and the ugly (and the cute).

Thanks for sitting with me. Stay tuned.