Scissors

It's that stressful time of day between 5 and 6:30 PM when everyone is hungry, Rick will be home from work at anytime, the house is a mess despite working all day, and the kids are laying on the couch watching some absurd, brain rotting show on Nickelodeon. I'm however in the kitchen, kickin' it in high gear, trying to keep it together. I reach into my junk drawer to get my scissors and.....THEY'RE GONE!!!

That's it, the last straw fell..."WHERE ARE MY SCISSORS!!!!" The kids look this way. I repeat the same phrase, this time banging both fists on the counter for more emphasis. "GET UP, GET UP, GET UP, FIND MY SCISSORS NOW!" My 3 precious offspring jump up in fear and begin scurrying. I grip the counter and try to "breath it down" like I learned in child birthing classes. It was too late for my essential oils. I could tell my breathing techniques were going to fail me today as they did in the labor room each time. There was no epidural for this pain however! Beyond my control I needed release. It needed out. I tried to hold back but it was going to win. I grabbed the underside of my chin and tore back my "sweet gentle mother" mask. I rolled my head around backwards and side to side morphing into this creature I've yet to tame. " I..... NEED...... MY......SCISSOOOOOOORS!" said in an echoing low voice. Then the rant began... 

"How am I supposed to make you all a healthy dinner without scissors? The Dinner Creations package clearly states that I am supposed to cut the package open with a tiny pair of scissors. I am not to tear it, or cut it with a knife, and unlike other people around here I try to follow the rules. Do you see me taking your important things and breaking or hiding them? Of course not, you leave all your stuff everywhere for me to pick up and put away. All I do all day is carry your junk from one end of the house to the other like a rented mule. I can't take it anymore. ( that's one of my favorites) I can't believe Santa brought you all anything this year. I'm going to get that elf on the shelf some glasses for his birthday. Then maybe he'll tell Santa the truth. You know you're supposed to keep your grubby hooks off those scissors. They are MINE, MINE, MINE!!!! ( I stomp my feet sometimes too for added affect). I think I could buy scissors at Walmart every week and I still don't think you could find a pair around this pig sty. Actually, right now I'm going to go and write "scissors" on the top line of every page of the grocery list. So help me (another one of my favorites) when I find those scissors I'm going to... ( thinking about what I'm going to do) I'm going to...(still thinking) I'm going to cut that package open then do something so bad you're going to hate it. Then I, unlike YOU, am going to put the scissors back in the drawer. Yeah, that's what I'm going to do." (I use hand motions too)."

Moments later I saw a shadow toss the scissors on the counter and runoff. Since I don't live in a convenience store and don't have a tape measure extending vertically from floor to ceiling at my back door, I couldn't be positive but I believe the image stood at the approximate height of my middle child. I found them all cowering in the playroom, huddled together gently pushing Haley forward. We are all aware that she gets off a little easy with my tendency to blame her acts of blatant defiance on mere childhood innocence. After-all, she is my third and final. I tell them "I am going to buy my own pair of scissors and keep them hidden and so help me ( see, there again) if you even ask to use them, you'll wish you hadn't". "I don't even care if it is for a school project." "I'll even deny that I own my own, secretly hidden scissors to cut your gauze during a major emergency." (I head Bob too for added effect) "Are you picking up what I'm puttin' down?"

As you see, I did get some new scissors...

They are so sweet I almost wish they came with a holster so I could wear them around, always prepared and ready to cut. They are designed with a comfort grip and a razor edge so sharp it needs a protective sheath. Kudos to the iridescent packaging marketing strategy that grabbed my eye that day. The scissors will be hidden but were clearly marked first. Hopefully, they will be reminded of what went down and how they barely made it out alive, on that cold December day.

Moments after a scenario like the actually benign one described above, my kids seem fine and back to their normal business. It is me however, who stands at the pantry door eating Little Debbie's, filled with guilt and disappointed in my inability to control my anger. After a while, I tell them I'm sorry and remorsefully ask for forgiveness, which they always happily give me. Their unasked for hugs and smiles for me let me know they've moved on.

You AGAIN have compassion on me(us); you will tread my(our) sins underfoot and will hurl all my(our) iniquities into the depths of the sea. Micah 7:19  Just like my children, who also know my heart's desire, You let me start over again, like a new fresh day, even if it is 8 PM. I hesitantly reached out to take the gift I undeservingly came seeking. A fresh slate, a gift, knowing that otherwise I'll be stuck in my shame, unable to move on....to be better for them....where I'm the worst....in the walls we surround ourselves with....called home.

A Turkey's Life

I told you I had poultry on the brain...

One day at work, I was evaluating a new patient. I was skimming over his history and somewhere below age and height he was to fill out his occupation. There it was: Turkey Turner. Initially I thought he may work in a restaurant with a high demand for turkey burgers and I would be treating him for an overuse injury of his wrist. However, considering his dress and the fact that we live in West Virginia, I felt I needed to investigate this further. He went on to explain to me that he worked on a turkey farm not far from here. He told me nonchalantly that he walked around all day and picked up turkeys that had fallen over. Unaware that turkeys were such clumsy animals, I continued probing. He went on to tell me that the Toms, or male turkeys, were so genetically and hormonally altered, that they could weigh 60 to 80 pounds sometimes! That would be like Harrison (6) and Sophia (11) running around on muscle-less, scaly, three-pronged legs! No wonder they would give out and fall! I couldn't believe that they needed help to get up or they would suffocate under the weight of their own breasts!!! What a terrible way to go!

"So how many turkeys do you help up in a shift?", I asked. I assumed he would report a small number and that he was there to mostly supervise the birds, providing a "just in case" scenario. He went on to tell me that he could turn up to a hundred turkeys in a shift!!! He also reported that he wasn't the only Turkey Turner per shift, that it could take 4 or 5 of them to keep those birds on their legs all day! "WOW", I said and shook my head in amazement. I couldn't help but to compared these big breasted birds to their wild turkey counterparts who can fly and like to sleep in trees. "Geez", I thought to myself, "just one bad day of Turkey Turner "call offs" and you'd have a 5th Grade Science Fair Project on your hands." "Evidence for Darwin: Survival of the Fittest". Blue ribbon for sure.

To pass time I imagined them playing games like, "All Up", where the object of the game would be to get all the birds standing at the same time. I also imagined harmless, low-bidding gambling going on throughout the day as well. "I'll buy you a Coke if 'Crooked Beak' falls on his face first." "Deal!" "And I get your break if 'ol Knock Knees' falls more than 3 times before lunch."

I asked him if the turkeys seemed thankful and gracious when he returned them to their feet. He said, "heck no, they come running and peckin' at ya "! I was thinking then, maybe he had an ankle injury from running or even possibly a finger laceration with tendon repair.  Maybe it was his back? I can't quite remember. He provided too much other more interesting information. I asked him, "do you look at them differently during the month of November"?  "Do you feel sorry for them or do you check them out to find the one that looks the most delicious?

You know, now that I start thinking about it, I was treating him for back pain. I specifically remember both of us practicing turkey turning body mechanics in the middle of the busy physical therapy clinic. "Deep squat, bend with your knees, pivot, and RUN!" I'm pretty sure we looked like we were doing Cross Fit. After 3 sets of 10 turkey turns, however, it was evident that my job was a piece of cake, chocolate even, in comparison to my patient's.

I wondered if the turkey Toms had breast envy? Or maybe they just felt less preyed upon if they were smaller chested.  I worried about how some of the older Toms may feel. I'm sure some of them were really smart and wise and knew exactly where and how to peck on the feeder to give extra grain between feedings. However, because of their scrawny or limp breasts they were less valued.

I can't imagine being a turkey and living in a world where the size and quality of my breasts played such a role in determining my value and worth as a whole. That would be absurd, now wouldn't it?

The Willies

I have nothing of real importance to talk about today. Therefore, I'm just going to talk for a while and when I feel done I'm going to stop. You can read and gain absolutely nothing or you can stop now and resume something more important. The choice is yours, take it or leave it.

Raw chicken freaks me out. IF I was ever being interviewed, and IF they asked me to name the Top 5 Things I would most hate to be slapped across the face with; raw, cold, boneless, skinless chicken breast would make the cut.

During my lunch break today I ran home to load the Crock Pot. I only live about a mile and a half from my work. I can say "ONLY" because I have a car and I can drive. Therefore, I often run home to eat, start a load of laundry, or take care of this or that quite often. Don't be confused, I drive even though I said "run". I wouldn't say "OFTEN" either if I was talking about running. I've come to the conclusion however, that I go home for lunch, because I have a sick desire for the pressure of trying not to run late for work 2 times a day.

I was making Mexican Chicken A' La Crock Pot. Which means tossing some raw chick in the pot, sprinkling it with Kroger brand taco seasoning, a cup of water, and a chicken Bouillon cube... whatever those are. I then throw in a can of black beans and a can of roasted corn, stir, cover, and leave unattended just like my laundry that is also unsafe while I am not at home.

Later that evening...

"Hey kids, we're having chicken burritos!!!", said with excess enthusiasm. "I hate burritos". "Burritos stink", they shout. Trying not to sound too prepared for their reaction, "just kidding!" "we are actually having Fiesta soup"!!! "A party in a bowl"!!!  I turn around and block the crock pot with my body from their vision. 3 more Bouillons + 3 cups of water as instructed=BAM!!! Dinner with a rejection option.

Being a mother, I am forced to touch many gross things with my bare hands. I remember watching my mother shove dinner scraps into the disposal without batting an eye. I swore, then and there, I'd never do such a thing. Sometimes however I even do it with the disposal still running. It gives me thrills that I miss from my younger days.

Touching raw chicken with my bare hands however leads to excessive washing and cleaning under my nails with each decontamination session for the next hour or so. In addition, I am a health care worker so "hands" includes halfway up my forearms. One might think I am a surgeon by the way I wash, but I'm not. I'm a physical therapist with 1. an irrational relationship with meat juice and       2. dry forearms.

I usually put on rubber gloves when I'm touching raw meat. My dad gives me a new box here and there, especially if I keep cooking raw meat for him. I think its a fair trade. I was unaware of how many single-handed, high-dexterity requiring dirty jobs I had until I noticed that I always ran out of right-handed gloves first. I used to get annoyed by all my residual lefty's until I realized that a left-handed glove inside out is a right! (Go ahead, take a minute. Mentally flip it. It's good brain work.)

Today however, I planned on minimally touching those bad boys and simply flipping them quickly into the crock pot, thus only contaminating my thumb and index.  I decided before hand that I was capable of rationally cleaning those two digits and wanted to save a glove. I think I did fairly well however as I'm typing this, my forearms feel tight and dehydrated. Raw chicken can just be so fowl.

I think I am done for now.

I have a Part 2 to this story titled 'A Turkey's Life'. My voice named "Common Sense", that you met in my story Walkin' On Sunshine keeps telling me I should keep pushing SAVE vs PUBLISH. I really try to listen to her! ...but sometimes I don't hehehehe....

Reflections

It has been just one month since I started blogging and many times I have wondered, "why in the world am I doing this"? There are always a million other things, it seams, that could be more important to accomplish with my time I think. It even causes some anxiety. I worry that I'll say something I shouldn't, that my grammar will be incorrect, or that what I think is funny really isn't. I tell myself, "I don't have time for this, it is such a waste", and often I provide enough evidence for myself that I think I should stop.

Then I remember how good it feels to make people laugh, even if it is through exposing my weaknesses and faults or......maybe just my realness. It feels good, really good, to know that someone has stopped during their day to laugh and I've had a part in it.

If you asked the average person, "is it possible to be perfect"? I think they would answer rather quickly and without thinking much, "of course not". However, I believe that the average person still expects some level of perfection for themselves. We always seem to set our goals just outside of what is possible for us to reach including our housekeeping, organization, physical appearance, work performance, and the list goes on and on. If we near the goal we push it farther out of reach. If we happen to reach the goal we often look back and reflect on how it could have been achieved quicker or better. Living with this mentality breeds dissatisfaction. We then try to fill this void in unhealthy ways like buying, eating, working harder, and once again the list goes on and on.

There's something about exposing my weaknesses that helps me except my realness as a satisfactory goal. While I do think it is important to take pride in your physical self, finding peace with your reality is challenging. When I post a picture of myself in my bathrobe, glasses, and morning hair, it is forcing me to say "this is me, and it is good enough, and I'm comfortable in my skin despite not showing my best facade". Sophia (11) was confused and said, "mommy, they won't know you are beautiful"? She wouldn't understand if I said, "that's my point, I'm working on being brave and confident inside".

When I discuss my anger and frustration it helps me realize that often the culprit is me #1 forgetting what it is like to live life as child and being impatient or #2 struggling with my failure of not reaching my goal of perfection. Just the recognition in itself is curbing the behavior.

When you read and hopefully relate, I hope you laugh at yourself and not just me. I hope you give yourself a break and permission to be good enough. I hope that reflecting with me will help you accept and enjoy reality vs trying to make life something it can never be...PERFECT. I don't want us to miss out on a wonderful life because we are too busy and caught up in trying to create PERFECT when IMPERFECT is easier to love, because it reminds us of ourselves.

Through writing I am learning to see more clearly what really matters to me, what I want my life ultimately to be, and how I am influencing those around me. I'm relaxing a little more, feeling a little less stress, and trying to remember life as a child and not wanting to rush it for my own. I am finding myself holding hugs longer and soaking up smiles til I have one myself.

So when you read my silly blog I hope you get a laugh....but maybe sometimes more. For now, I will keep on writing. I still have things I need to understand and I've found a way for me to learn.

To be loved if...or to be loved because...is love full of uneasy stipulations.

However, to be loved in-spite of...creates a humbling peace and feeling of being accepted as good enough.

No part-B's for me!

One of my older brother's favorite, lame jokes goes like this. "Hey what goes before part-B? "I don't know". "Par-TA!!!" he replies. We are going to a dinner party tonight and he and my sister-in-law will be there. That's what got me thinking about his dumb joke. I know I'll hear it tonight. Anyway, the hostess said they were providing the steak and bread and we were to let her know what we would like to bring. I was of course the last one to get back to her and all that was needed was an appetizer. That was fine by me. Then I didn't have to make a decision as to what TYPE of food I was going to make before I had to decide what KIND of that type of food I was going to make. Decision making can be difficult for me. My husband however, may beg to differ.

I wanted to try something new, something different, something exciting! So I looked on Pinterest of course. I found a recipe for some cheddar cheese crackers that sounded interesting and like something my grandmother used to make that I LOVED. I made a double batch with hopes that they would be out of this world! I had some fresh rosemary in my crisper that had been sitting there for so long it had perfectly dried and crumbled easily. I decided that the rosemary addition would make my cheddar cheese crackers even more AB-FAB. The first batch was a little too done and reminded me of burnt cheese stuck to the foil when re-heating pizza in the oven. The next two batches turned out great but the last tray was a little under-cooked and reminded me of communion crackers but with a kick. Haley helped me pluck little holes in the center of each cracker before baking. So despite the fact that some of them had two holes, or no holes, or an off-center hole, I was overall pleased.

I also found a recipe for roasted asparagus wrapped in prosciutto, filled with garlic cream cheese. I initially thought these were going to make me yell "that's what I'm talkin' bout", but I now kind of wish I could drop them on my way there or I had something else better to make really quick. I lacked however, one important ingredient: thyme. I wasn't surprised when I couldn't find prosciutto at Walmart however I had seen it at Kroger before. Rick told me had gotten it from Kroger before and it tasted more like the package than prosciutto. I called Bella's Corner Market, which is a gourmet kitchen shop downtown. Would you believe it.... they had just run out!

We decided we didn't have a choice and Rick ran to Kroger for me. As he was picking up packages of prosciutto that tasted like package he saw a log of prosciutto in the case. It was even Boars Head! He asked the young girl for 40 thin slices. You can imagine how thin the 40 slices were when he brought home about 3 pounds of meat. A couple of them stacked up could be considered a ham steak for sure.

I wrapped up my first asparagus and tried it. The overall flavor wasn't bad, but I imagined the excessive chewing required to actually swallow my app would be uncomfortable for all, as we mingled before dinner began. The prosciutto's consistency reminded me of a sirloin at Ponderosa. I just knew someone was going to say, "hey, I didn't know that the new Beef Jerky Outlet in town carried prosciutto"! I threw some pretty tomatoes on the tray and prayed no one would come down with a serious case of bilateral TMJ. It definitely wasn't my best work.

Despite having brushed my teeth 2 times before leaving I could smell my breath wafting up in my face on the way to the party. I had to make sure everyone tried one and was contaminated with garlic breath before someone made me laugh if you know what I mean!

Let me tell you my friend, in my book, if you're not laughing like that at one point during the night you were at a part-B not a PAR-TA!

Sign Language- What nice girls don't say!

Despite the fact that I have been monthly practicing for years with managing my intermittent, temporary psychosis, I struggle. I could feel that this morning was going to be a challenge, to say the least. I have found that my most effective strategies have been:

1. Interact minimally
2. Say as little as possible and
3. Use sign language

These techniques decreases the chance that my family will have to call 1-800-x-or-cism later in the day.

I walked out into the family room, forced to leave my warm bed due to adult responsibilities, and remarked obnoxiously, "gosh it's freezing out here, why isn't the fire on"? Settle down, breathe deep, just get your coffee and you'll be fine.

I turned on the fire, myself!, as I walked to the coffee pot. I then sat down in my spot on the chaise, covered up with my faux throw, and grabbed my "Breath" Bible study. I needed to soak something in quickly before I started a load of laundry and got in the shower. Haley was adamant about being right in the middle of my lap and under my throw.  I would have welcomed her with loving arms but I was questioning her motives. I'm not sure that she particularly wanted in my lap as much as she could see that I was enjoying holding my book and coffee, like one of her siblings, and wanted them out of my arms and her in their place.

Do you know how it feels when someone is purposefully hanging out approximately 1 inch from your face and won't move because they think its funny? Or, could you imagine having someone follow you around all day tapping, at a high tempo, on your upper trap? How about trying to help your 5th grader show five different Common Core ways to solve 2+2 while kids are fighting in the background about whose turn it is on the Ipad? All of these scenarios described above, going on simultaneously, plus being hooked up to a wide open IV of caffeine, is how hormones can make you feel.  I wish my husband could experience it just one month. Then he may be more willing to "let 'er roll" for just a couple days knowing I am struggling with all my might to keep myself from becoming "one hot mess".

With only frustration found from my coffee, book, and cuddling, I got up to start a load of laundry. One of my children, not Sophia she would want you to know, wet the bed last night. Accidents happen though don't they? I wonder who didn't make him/her pee before getting in bed last night? And if he/she would sleep straight in his/her bed like a normal person, I wouldn't be having to wash a pillow as well as the sheets, blanket, and mattress protector. That will take a whole extra load! Who pees on a pillow when they wet the bed!

Hey Rick, I'm going to take a quick shower since I have to do some laundry before work this morning. I want to make sure you have hot water. I'd probably gouge my eyes out with a fork if I have to listen to you complain about getting a cold shower.

I go through my morning routine trying to avoid contact or interaction with anyone, following strategies #1 and #2.  The bus would be here any minute and I had told Harrison about 10 minutes ago to start getting his high-tops on. These are a controversial new pair of high-tops. Rick and I both swore we would never buy another pair. However one day, a couple weeks ago, Rick and Harrison came home from Hibbetts with them. Rick walked in the door cautiously, bringing with him a thorough explanation as to why he found it a good idea to buy him another pair. His argument included: they were exactly like his basketball shoes, they were on sale, and my favorite, Harrison had promised him he wouldn't cause us a bit of trouble over them ever again. Are you kidding me! That kid couldn't keep a promise to breath! You see, in order to get his high-tops on he has to loosen the laces completely. Then, even though instructed otherwise, he still grabs the laces by their ends and gives them a big pull. He then throws a fit when he can't get the laces below to tighten up and lay down flat. I don't remember Rick promising ME he would help Harrison get those shoes on every morning before he left for work. He also didn't buy 2 locks that would require a key to get them off again at bedtime. I applied some lavender oil to my wrists and temples before leaving the bathroom to check on his progress.  Hopefully, the fragrance would help me refrain from getting out my electric knife and cutting those family destroying, high-tops off at ankle level.

I went into the family room, where last minute scurrying was going on. "It is SO hot in here! Why is the fire still on! I'm going to die!" I started digging through my purse for some lip gloss. That always makes me feel better. Dig-dig-dig, empty M&M tube, dig-dig, glue stick, dig, old used tissue, something sticky, and a 6 pack of Nabs that someone had eaten one of and put the other five back into my purse to crumble and sit in the bottom! "This is MY purse! Mine, mine, mine, not your trash can!" I continued sarcastically, "How about I just dumped this left over oatmeal sitting on the table in my purse and maybe this banana peel on the counter." "This sock in the floor would fit in nicely too." "I have an idea. Why don't we just get rid of all the trash cans in the house and use my purse instead!" "Maybe I'll invent purse liners for easy cleanup." "Wait!" "You don't replace or pull up trash can liners." "Why would a purse liner be any different!" "By the way, who thinks we need the sub-woofer on full volume to watch Tom and Jerry?" "Not me!!!!" "And whoever is tapping better cut it out or I'll cut it off!"

I'm still struggling with strategy #2.

1 & 2 are on the bus and I run into the house knowing that 3 just needs her teeth brushed. "Mommy, you don't do it bery good, I want Daddy."  "Daddy's not available right now and I'm going to brush your teeth this morning- whether you like it or not." "You always get tooth paste on my face." "See wook", as she turns to the mirror and points at her face accusingly at me. "Maybe if I wasn't freezing cold from waiting on the bus in Arctic temperatures my hand wouldn't be clawing up with poor dexterity." "It's so dumb that I have to stand out there with them anyway." "They play outside, poorly supervised, all the time." "I simply do my chores occasionally peering out the windows, pecking and give a reprimanding look when needed, and THEY'RE ARE FINE!" "Haley, it is not healthy or effective to use such definitive verbiage in a heated argument- like your father does to absolutely shoot me through the roof " "Yes, this morning I did get toothpaste on your face but I do not ALWAYS get toothpaste on your face. However, you, absolutely NEVER sit still while I'm trying to avoid the wrath of my dentist father who haunts me with the reminder that none of his kids ever had a cavity!

It was time for me to leave. I was feeling happy that I didn't have on black pants. They were gray. Things were looking up. I had finally gotten to the cleaners yesterday and had a mini Christmas experience forgetting what I had left there. I don't use the dry cleaner as much as I should because my husband's, lets say thriftiness, has rubbed off on me. I do try and run by at least every 60 days because they have a sign reading: 'Any garment left more than 60 days will be given to Goodwill'. I just run in and holler like I work for myself, "do ya' have anything for Leatherman"? Most of the time they come back reporting nothing, but on occasion they do! I pretend other people do this as well and consider it a normal practice.

I grabbed my cell phone and was heading out the door but couldn't slip it into my front pocket like I always do. I bet this is one of the factory workers favorite jokes. "Hey, let's give her some pockets then sew them up!" Hahaha!!!! The crowd goes wild over that one ever time I'm sure. As I was leaving the house Rick asked me "are you okay"? "You've been quiet this morning." I honestly replied, "I wish you could understand and not cook such absolutely stinky breakfasts." "I am simply trying to protect the family." By the way, "you didn't pack the kids the last of those Debbie Cakes did you? I might need them later?"

By the time I was in my car I was even irritating myself. If only a solicitor would call me now. That would help me let off some steam. Especially one I CAN"T understand. The inability to comprehend what they were saying would remind me of the rest of my morning. I lacked any ability to focus more than 5 seconds and was unable to follow through with even the simplest request. Wouldn't it be refreshing to have a slow speaking, redneck solicitor just one time? I might just listen to what they have to say.

While I continue using strategy #1 & #2 at work, #3, Sign Language, comes in very handy when you're in the public. I'm usually very sensitive and loving with my patients. However, on mornings like this, when I'm struggling to tame my dragon, it helps me if I hold up imaginary signs. I think about what they say and it helps me deal. For example, 'PLEASE SHUT YOUR FACE!' said like Chris Farley, is a favorite. Or, The SOUND of your VOICE is making my ears SIZZLE with PAIN! I just sit there smiling, holding my sign and I feel the sun shining.  Sign language is also effective when you're driving and all your young, innocent children are in the car. "OPEN your EYES, DRIVER'S ED. DROP OUT!" I have other signs that I hold up but my mother wouldn't approve of me reading them to you.

Halfway through my busy morning, I discover that my new, bright-red, $3.99 clock is 20 minutes behind and slowing. I'm swamped today and can't run late. I feel apologetic about what I've put my pants button through over the past few months. I am now experiencing the pressure and responsibility that I had been placing on it to "hang in there". I couldn't wait to go to Walmart on my lunch break. I knew I could leave there with a new, better clock and a free pack of AAs for my inconvenience. However, maybe by the time noon hits, a baseball bat, me, and the clock, in the parking lot might provide ample satisfaction for the $3.99 loss.

As the irritation and anger dissipates, an irrational urge to cry sets in. Commercials aren't even safe. I won't go into this because it isn't nearly as funny as irrational anger and irritation. I guess it will continue on like this, a couple days each month until menopause set in. I hear that can make you a nut case with hair on your face real quick. The future looks bright.

My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. James 1:19-20.  I am so thankful Lord, that you know my heart's desire and are patient with me day after day while I grow and learn!

Perfectly Placed

I was going to tell you a funny little story this morning but I wanted to share with you something I remembered. I hope there is a reader out there today that needed reminded as well. 

This morning out at the bus stop it was different. I wasn't cold in my robe and rubber barn boots but I would get the occasional tiny raindrop on my glasses. The kids weren't hunkering down in their winter coats and burying their hands in their pockets waiting uncomfortably for the bus. It's like this every year about this time. I start to get hopeful and excited for Spring. However, I know in the back of my mind that we have inches of snow to receive and single digit numbers yet to be had. Beautiful days like yesterday and mornings like this however, can help you make it through the winter season.

I was telling the kids it wouldn't be long until we stood out here in the mornings and we would see all the perennials that we have planted over the years, starting to make their way to the surface. Just to the right of where we stand on the end of our driveway is an area that used to be a flower bed, planted by someone else years ago. In the past couple years we have covered it with grass trying to tame our yard in the manner that we see fit and beautiful. I said to Sophia, "it won't be long before that daggone hyacinth pops up in the middle of my grass"!. She'd laughed, knowing my frustration with this but the humor I find in it as well. It just won't go away! Harrison stood there holding his Kroger bags full of snacks for his class and looking excited to be the leader for the day. He was a little more precious to me this morning as well in this Spring moment.

Moments later I was in the house resuming my mundane tasks including folding laundry, that was stacked up on the couch. I stood there looking out the window at my barren, lifeless yard. I could picture what it was going to look like months from now and wanted to see it today. NOW.

I love working in my yard. I plant what I want here and kill what I don't want there and wrestle my yard all summer long for control. At the same time, I LOVE IT! I'm one of those people who walked around in my yard in the spring, every day and look for new growth and change that happens even as hours pass. I'm always especially anxious to see if my new bulbs made it through their first winter. I feel hopeful but also battle a sense of dreariness until I remember...... what is happening in the ground right now is important. Those beautiful plants and flowers can't be what they are in the spring without a winter, a hibernation, a rest, growth, and storing up energy so they can be bigger and stronger and more resilient in the future.

I continued on with my folding with a sense of patience and appreciation for time and found some humor in my desire to control when and where everything in my life comes up. I couldn't see it clearly at the time but I look back now at some of the winters of my life with appreciation. I learned things about myself, good and bad, and had a chance to grow and improve. I learned to find rest and deeper intimacy with friends and family in a way I never let myself become vulnerable enough before to enjoy. I had an overwhelming presence of my Creator, who gently held me and gave me strength in ways I can't comprehend. I felt loved and guarded by Him like a prized jewel. Those gifts were my Spring like days that got me through winter. To everything there is a season and to rush one, hoping for the next, is not the plan. We must give and take and welcome change in every season so we can become who we are supposed to be.

That little hyacinth pops up in the middle of my yard, Perfectly Placed, as a reminder that I'm not the one in control but the one who gets to choose how I respond to where I am, right now, whether winter, spring, summer, or or fall in my life. I think I will have Sophia help me in the Spring, when that hyacinth shows its first signs of coming up. We will spread a little mulch around its base and it be our favorite for sure.  I will make sure she understands the story of that hyacinth sooner than I did.

This print is a gift from my parents. This photograph doesn't do it justice. The tiny details hidden throughout are truly beautiful. It is by our local artist, Judith Polan. The scripture reference is Ecclesiastes 3:1. It goes on to say "He has made everything beautiful in its time." and "I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live."

Cold Cuts

A couple of weeks ago Rick asked me if I would mind celebrating Valentine's Day on February 7th. I didn't really mind at all, it actually sounded like a great idea. I might be getting old and crotchety but I actually find the crowds of compliant Valentine's Day participants annoying.  Not that Rick and I shouldn't go out on dates more frequently but I hate feeling like you have to or there is something wrong with your relationship if you don't. It's all such a hoopla if you ask me and maybe even a little embarrassing. I might sound a little complicated but I'm a woman after all.  Every morning however when I walk into the kitchen and see my coffee mug, lovingly placed, sitting under the spout of the Senseo coffee machine with the red, ready light on, waiting for me, I feel loved. Truly. Or this morning when Rick came into the kitchen proudly reporting, "I left some tunes spinnin' in the bathroom for you to enjoy while you are in the shower". "Let me know what you think." He thinks of me and wants to make me happy. That's what those gestures mean. Little things, just little, everyday things, make me feel consistently loved. Could you imagine that he makes me smile as well?

I couldn't help but wonder why he was asking this however. Honestly, the first thing that came to mind was that the West Virginia Mountaineers probably had a basketball game on the 14th. I wouldn't want celebrating our love to interfere with other priorities. He then went on to tell me that he was on call and he would hate to run out in the middle of our meal and miss out on our complementary dessert that came with our Valentine's Day Special.

A few times we have talked about where we might want to go out to eat or how we may want to celebrate but for several reasons we have never been able to finalize a decision. At one point I suggested we should maybe just go to a movie and split a combo with a large tub of popcorn, with butter halfway through, two drinks and two candies. I would choose M&Ms for me of course but I'm not sure what I would choose for Rick to share with me yet. Even though I can't remember the last time I have been to the movies with Rick alone, watching something that wasn't animated, we felt it was inappropriate to enjoy not talking to each other on our evening out celebrating Valentine's Day. This would solidify the fact that sometimes our marriage is on the back burner set on simmer. Don't get me wrong, we are both pretty happy I think, and despite the fact that we have been married for 7 years, I'm proud that we aren't looking for creams or ointments to calm an itch.

We started talking again tonight about where and what we wanted to do on February 7, Valentines Day. I told Rick not to buy me any chocolate that I had been buying Valentine's candy since some time after Christmas when WalMart started stocking the Seasonal aisle with Valentine delights.  It only took 1 cold haircut in the garage tonight to help me make my decision.

You see, I wear several hats in the Leatherman household. Per Rick's request tonight, I put on my hair cutter hat, that I don every 4 to 6 weeks, and cut his hair after work. Do you know what is worse than giving a haircut in your heavy robe and winter coat in the garage in 17 degree weather? Not much I tell ya! The decision to buy some hair clippers for me to use on the boys was a mutual one. For Rick it might have been saving $20 every 4 to 6 weeks, plus the convenience of not having to make and keep a hair appointment at the beauty shop. My primary motivating factor was that Rick walked in the door several times from the barbershop looking as if he had decided to quit the pharmacy business and join the army. There were times I wanted to ignore that fact that he had experienced an altercation with some clippers but it was so obvious that he had had his hair cut, it would be more awkward not make some bit of comment. I would struggle for the best words. "Would you kids just look at Daddy?!" "His flat top is so flat you could balance a tray on it!" Or maybe, "you sure can't get bangs that straight without a bowl on your head"! I would have such a difficult time at dinner, staring across the table at him, trying to hold in a chuckle and wondering what look the barber thought Rick might be going for. I then found it annoying that Rick's appointments at the beauty shop always seemed to fall on an evening when we had absolutely nothing else to do and it screwed up dinner plans. I do miss Rick coming home with his "did you know so and so did this or that to so and so"?

So about 6 years ago we invested in a pair of $26.00 hair clippers from WalMart. I read the directions and practiced on Harrison. When he looked presentable Rick let me cut his hair and I've been doing it in the garage ever since then. Rick likes the final product of my haircuts but doesn't enjoy the process. He told me that before my haircuts he had never had a painful one. Occasionally I catch one of his ears with the guard during an up stoke. He complains that I'm not very remorseful but what part of "suck it up, it's free" doesn't sound remorseful to you?

When the haircuts are over we simply sweep the hair out of the garage into the driveway and into the yard. A couple days later it is all gone? I imagine that all the bird nests in a 1 mile radius of our house are lined with Rick's beautifully soft, fine brown hair. It makes me feel happy inside knowing that we have helped hundreds of little baby birds keep warm on cool spring mornings.

Anyway, I did a few simple calculations as follows: 52 weeks/year divided by 1 haircut every 5 weeks on average= 10.4 haircuts/year. That, times the 6 years that I have been cutting hair = 62.4 haircuts. If each haircut cost $11 including tip - the $26 clipper investment, we have saved a Net Total of $686.40 by me wearing the hair cutter hat! That isn't even counting Harrison's inconsistent, always over due do's. Therefore, I see no reason why we won't be at the Livery Tavern on Washington Street in Lewisburg, West Virginia on Feb 7th, Valentine's Day of course.
www.liverytavern.com

I need to tell you real quick why simmering is my favorite cooking technique. While I love to cut into a beautifully seared scallop or piece of delicate fish that has been superficially browned on the outside, showing off its dramatic exterior, a rich, hearty sauce, that has simmered on low, gentle heat, for me couldn't be more delectable. Unlike searing that requires hot, intense heat, and constant attention and even some stress knowing there is no room for error to achieve perfection in a perfectly timed moment, simmering can be accomplished by anyone who is willing to be patient. Gentle simmering slowly coaxes each individual spice to relinquish itself from its inner-most part. Each spice then accentuates and improves the taste of one other. The longer the better and waiting, thinking about what the future holds, makes it even more desirable. If needed, you can add a little more of this or that if the sauce is lacking in some way but there is no rush. It is also important to use a little (or a lot) of cayenne here and there. Who doesn't enjoy a spicy sauce once in awhile ;)! With attention, it is possible to pick out specific attributes of each ingredient in the rich sauce but ultimately all the parts have become so completely integrated they are one and can never be separated again.

That is why I never mind that Rick and I simmer steadily on the back burner. We are only getting more and more delectable with a beautiful future.

Happy Valentine's Day! Here's to simmering!

Master Dawdler

(1st Day of Kindergarten!)

We have a "Master Dawdler" that lives in our house. He has 4 tasks to complete in 1 hour every morning. I'm amazed, day after day, by how this isn't easily accomplished without changing the entire dynamics of our family's morning. I developed this clothespin system in order to decrease nagging, increase independence, and give him visual and tactile cues to complete his tasks.

I can't comprehend how the threatening, yelling, and taking away privileges doesn't really seem to bother him at ALL!!! He just goes on about his morning kinda chilled out, moving on his own time clock, and bucking all our attempts at hurrying him on. 

We could take him out for a nice dinner and he would be finished eating in about 3 minutes and wanting to run around the restaurant, climb all over us, or get under the table. It takes him however, honestly 15 minutes to eat a bowl of instant oatmeal with at least 5 commands to "hurry up" or "just eat". Even when I'm frustrated and angry it still cracks me up a little to see Rick just as frustrated and "saying loudly" nothing more than "EEEEEAAAATTTTTT!" We've offered rewards and gloated on him when he was doing "better" but nothing seems to consistently improve his behavior, keep him on task, or speed this little guy up. He still eats his oatmeal at approximately one bite per 2 minutes. I've truly considered dressing him for school following his evening bath and having him lay on top of his bed, with just a blanket, so it stays made decreasing his task list to only two things in one hour. 

We have discovered however, that moving his bedtime forward in 15 minutes intervals for each infraction seems to hit the hardest. Yesterday morning I thought I was going to have to send a note to his kindergarten teacher reading, "I will be picking Harrison up today at 2 o'clock so I can get him in bed on time". 

After trying to zip his coat as he was galloping sideways down the driveway, my tension peaked and I "said" quite loudly, "STOP IT", all staccato like, then looked around quickly to see what neighbors might have possibly heard me carrying on like this on such a new fresh morning. (Insert sarcastic smile here). I continued my ranting about his behavior as I entered the house. Rick, my usually extremely intelligent husband normally says nothing in situations like this or attempts to offer some gentle encouragement. But this morning, he walked out of the bathroom and said..."Susan, I'm going to tell you the truth whether you want to hear it or not". Eyes big, and mouth probably open, I stood in silence, yes me silent. I had a flood of anxiety come over me unable to imagine what truths may come out of this quiet man. I braced myself and tried not to get mad before I even heard what he had to say. "The problem is...he is just like you. He doesn't like to be told what to do and he is so stubborn he will wear you down until he gets his way!" That was it, he turned around and went back into the bathroom. For just a second I tried to get mad but then as I thought about what he had said I found myself with a sheepish grin and almost laughing at the truth I had been told. Additionally, I was slightly relieved that he didn't say all the many things he could have. 

After school I broke the news to Harrison that he was going to have to miss AWANA at church tonight in order to get him in bed on time to fulfill his punishment. After a few minutes of him whining and fussing and begging me to change his punishment to something else, I realized this then meant that he would be home with me tonight on my "night off"!!! What had I done!?!?! When he realized I wasn't budging, he went off to play but returned about 10 minutes later and told me, "You know Mom, I've been really tired and I think it's a great decision that I stay home from church tonight and go to bed early". So there you have it, what I live with. In his sweet little head he had somehow WON. 

(He picked out his clothes himself this day!)

Late that night as I went into his room to check on him and fix his blankets, I realized we had both kind of won. He had a long, leisurely, warm bath while we listen to each other and laughed and talked. He didn't pause a moment when I asked him to forgive me for losing my patience and throwing fits sometimes. We ended the night reading books together with him in my lap and I got to listened to him thank God for his mommy in his prayers. 

"What a great kid", I said to myself, "exactly like....... his mommy".

Held Hostage

I had just finished compiling my completely unaccomplishable 'To Do' list for today but decided I should double checked my master calendar on the refrigerator to make sure I wasn't missing something. There it was, "microwave repair between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. today". I immediately felt a sense of being held hostage in my home and unable to complete the long list of errands I had scheduled. As I was looking for my "Things to accomplish at home" 'To Do' list I thought to myself, "you know, having a schedule like that would really lesson my stress. "Hey Mom, will you make me some lunch? Sure I'll get to it between 8 & 5. "Hey Mom, are my favorite jeans clean?" "No, but I hope to get to it between 8 & 5. "Hi Sooz, what are we doing for dinner?" "I don't know dear, but I'll decide between 8 & 5 and get back to you". I could respond feeling completely relaxed knowing I can always call at 4:45 and tell whoever it is that needed my services that it just wasn't going to happen today between 8 & 5 and that I would see how it looked for my schedule tomorrow. As some of you know, our microwave has been dead for at least 3 months now. We waited about a month to have someone come to the house who wanted to charge us $99.00 to tell us that" yes" indeed our microwave was broken. So regardless of what my plans had been today and considering it has taken weeks to get on their 8 to 5 schedule, I will be at home today. Hostage.

Against my better judgement I gave into my addiction this morning and had two cups of coffee. In my anxiety about missing the repair guy I kept hearing knocking. I kept freaking out and thinking I was hearing someone at the door. One time it was the dishwasher. One time it was Haley running down the hall on hardwood to get something. By the way, can you imagine if we adults ran everywhere we were going like children do? "Hey Rick, you want another cup of coffee?" "Sure, Sooz." I can't imagine jumping up and running real quick to the coffee pot. What a sight.

The extra caffeine in my system, plus the fact that my doorbell is broken as well, had me a little maxed out. I snapped at Haley, "you have got to get off your stage (an upside down laundry basket) and learn another line to that song!" You would think the doorbell would be an easy fix and we would want to correct a quite irritating problem. Our doorbell however, is hardwired and original to our 1970 house. I attempted to fix it one time, so I have all the parts to replace it with a Lowe's model, but I quit when I saw it required more then peeling stickers off double sided tape or using a Phillips screwdriver to replace two screws. Far from nice and easy. Today was going to have to be the day. I couldn't take it any longer. The intermittent, perceived  knocking was making me lose it.

I turned on my foyer light hoping the doorbell was on the same circuit and ran to the garage to the breaker box. Would you believe there wasn't a neatly marked breaker switch that said doorbell? More like "washer, dryer, green room, brown room". Apparently, I and others before me had failed to consult the breaker box before choosing our color schemes for the past 45 years. I found a breaker to turn off my Foyer light and got out my tools. After removing the doorbell face plate I froze up questioning my electrical skills and called my dad who didn't answer. So in the interim I wrote a note and taped it on top of the exposed doorbell. "Warning! DO NOT touch! Live wires! Please push the doorbell, that is waiting to be installed, located on the doormat in front of you. Additionally, if I don't come immediately please keep knocking and don't leave. I am taking a quick shower because I have "Day 3 hair" and we have a church dinner tonight".

While I was trying to hurry in the shower, I couldn't help but think what in the world could I put together from my pantry and fridge for a dish tonight if the repairman did not get here before 4. I knew I had Ritz, cheese, and butter so I could put that on something, bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes and it would fit in beautifully with the other 20 casseroles that looked like mine. I would call it "Susan's Surprise". There was no way I was missing an opportunity to feed my family and only have to make one simple dish.

Back to the doorbell. My dad still wasn't answering so I decided that my 30 plus year apprenticeship with him would have to suffice. Considering I'm still telling the story you can assume that I selected the correct breaker switch and disconnected the old doorbell. It was a grave sin in my house growing up to be lazy, triflin, or "half-ass" as my dad called it. So I decided to attempt removing the wires completely from the doorbell instead of simply shoving the loose wires back up into the hole. I just couldn't live with the image of someone years from now 'shockingly' discovering my half-assed job. I thought I might be able to disconnect the wires by going through the light switch plate from inside the house. I immediately knew I was in over my head and replaced the plate cover and shoved my little secret up inside the hole to be covered. I had to drill one simple hole to install my Lowe's model. I stepped back to inspect my work. It looked like a job that I would have been frustrated with if I had paid someone else to complete. I definitely won't be chosen for the Lewisburg Home and Garden tour this year but the interviewees probably wouldn't make it to my front door having to pass through my yard first. I could imagine my Dad, who is much like Holmes on Homes, critiquing my half-assed work.  In denial I said to myself,  "well this is just a short term fix that I can live with until I have a real electrician come and replace my beautiful, old, brass one".

While I was fixing the doorbell and taking my shower, so I would look slightly presentable for the repairman- I mean my husband that I always strive to look my best for, Haley painted. Yes she is 3 and was only intermittently supervised. I never could have done this was my first child. I've learned however if I strap her in her 5 point harness booster seat, so she can't escape and touch a non-washable surface, she is happy as a lark. I give her paint and plenty of paper and she goes to town for at least as hour.  The hour of entertainment is totally worth the 7 minute clean up. She uses sponges, paint brushes, and rollers but always ends up rubbing and swirling and sliding the paint all over her papers with her hands. I always know she is done when she starts using the paint on her hands and slightly up her arms like lotion.  I'm learning to let go, you see. Just like her painting, it's not about the final product but the process of life that we should enjoy.

The repairman ended up coming in time for me to get to the store so Susan's Special will have to wait for another dinner. I watched him pull in and walk up my sidewalk but I stood by the door and waited for the doorbell chimes to sound. It had been so long! I opened the door almost immediately and said, "hello", then felt awkward about my swiftness. Despite my new doorbell sounding slightly chintzy and more appropriate for college type housing, it was my doorbell and I was proud of her. My microwave was fixed and ready for some fabulous meal preparations. Best of all I have at least 6 masterpieces on my frig and a wee one who is ever so proud of her beautiful work that she made "all by myself".

I personally find it more embarrassing to post selfies where you are obviously trying to look good.

Coleslaw Salad

(Crunchy, Sweet and Salty, and what I'm talkin' bout)

In a large bowl combine:

1 package coleslaw mix but no dressing
2 bunches of green onion-sliced
1 cup slivered almonds
1 cup roasted sunflower seeds
2 packages of broken up chicken flavored Ramen noodles- set the seasoning aside (I put the noodles in a ZipLoc bag and bang them with Harrison's small Lowe's hammer)

In a good Tupperware, not one of those cheap, leaky ones, combine:

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 packages of Ramen chicken seasoning reserved from the above.

Shake the heck out of it and pour on the coleslaw ingredients before serving.  Stir.

Really yummy with grilled chicken in the summer!

Product Review

Today in the mail I received the prettiest little package of skincare samples from a sweet girl that I went to high school with. Enclosed I found a note saying I would receive a free lip gloss just for listening and giving my feedback to her Sales Director. I hope to give such a stellar review that they just can't help themselves and send me 2! I decided it was best to do a trial review and get your input to improve my odds.

Anyway, I opened the package and was greeted by a green and white swirly wintergreen mint. "What a nice touch", I said. It made the package feel very personal. "She likes mints. I like mints. We both like mints! How could I not like her products!"

Inside the pretty little package I found 7 little "Time Wise" samples to complete my own home mini facial. After skimming over the directions, I took the first two steps into the shower with me.

Step 1: Cleanser. I tore open the package and squeezed half of the contents into my hand as instructed and set aside the other half for my second trial. I rubbed the cleanser all over my face waiting for the latter. Nothing. "Oh, this may be one of those gentle, non stripping cleansers" and felt a little let down. I re-read the directions on the package to make sure I wasn't missing something. I was to be using an upward and outward motion while cleansing and was to be avoiding the eye area. My new cleansing motions still did not create the suds I was is looking for and I found it quite disturbing that I was not supposed to wash my eyes. I'm the kind of girl that needs a nice thick lather to feel like I'm washing. If someone connected me to a lie detector test immediately after completing Step 1 and asked me: "Did you just wash your face? Yes or No only." The needles would have started spastically jumping up and down correlating with my internal conflict. "Yes" and "No" would both be a lie! I wasn't feeling it but a wise bunny once said, "if you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all." Therefore my score for Step 1 was: nothin'/10. Some of you out there however, who are comfortable with only partially washing your face, may enjoy this product.

Step 2A: Microderm Abrasion REFINE. Now this is what I'm talking about. It was like I was working with a nice 320 grit, superfine sandpaper but in liquid form. Just enough but not too little. I definitely exceeded the 1 minute massage as instructed but I could only imagine the refining that was taking place.  I felt so productive.

Step 2A: Microderm Abrasion REPLENISH. This product was supposed to make my pores and fine lines smaller and give immediate results. I watched but immediate may be relative when you are talking about pores and lines. Will check back later. In addition to avoiding the eye area, both microderm abrasion products require you to avoid the mouth area? I could be mistaken but per my calculations I was only to be sanding my cheeks, forehead, and nose.

Step 3: Day solution. It was truly that. Not a clear liquid like a toner but not a lotion either.  Less viscous but still opaque. Not a mask but a veil blocking UVA/UVB rays, and collagen enhancing peptides that smooth and firm as well as relax expression lines, giving you the look of a person with a flat affect I assume is the goal.

Step 4: Age Fighting Moisturizer.  This step almost didn't happen because I could no longer get a grip on the slick packages. An assistant would be nice at this point. They could tear the next 4 packages open as well as assist with completing the proper directions. I was to massage 1/2 of this package on my face and throat but to avoid the eye area. I really think the eye and mouth areas are poorly delineated in the instructions.  Are my lips my mouth "area" or is there a certain amount of skin around my lips that make up this "area"? What about my eye lids? Or when does the skin lateral to the eye stop being eye area and become designated as face? I was slathering the creamy lotion all over but had some slight anxiety about my boundaries.  There were several times I was sure my assistant would have sounded their megaphone, BEEEEEEEP! "PLEASE STAY OFF OF THE EYE AREA!"

This lotion wasn't mal-odorous or pungent or even offensive by any means. (I have however been working on not being so easily offended.) I simply just said to myself, "I am aware of an odor after opening this package that wasn't there previously". That's all I'm saying. This lotion was so delicious I could not help myself and used the other half of the sample that was specifically to be used for my next trial. My skin was soaking it up and feeling plump and smooth. Definitely worth the stress of completing a six step skin care process.

Final Step 5: Firming Eye cream. This cream was to be applied to the eye area with my ring finger with a patting technique but was not to get INTO my eyes. Once again, what about my lids???
BEEEEEEEP!!! "I think I saw some RUBBING! You are to PAT! I resumed patting,
BEEEEEEEP!!! Only your RING FINGER for the third time!!!!". "I am not cut out for this", I think to myself.

I had finished my skincare regimen when the kids started requesting I make their lunch. I went into the kitchen and got out some plates and bread then was overcome with the idea that I should start a load of laundry before making lunch. Then, by the time we ate and cleaned up the laundry would be ready to go into the dryer and I could start another load. "What a 'Time Wise' decision!", I thought to myself! It was starting to soak in! It was really working! Maybe immediate what's now! I ran to a mirror to check out my pores and fine lines. I truly believe they were smaller, smoother, and firmer. I could only hope this company also made a butt cream.

Final thoughts: I will save my share of the facial cleanser for someone else, I prefer stripping. The microderm abrasion was AB FAB and the moisturizer delish! I found the eye cream stressful and possibly the cause of my intermittent eye burning throughout the rest of the day, taking into consideration that I had quite possibly made a fatal decision when considering my eyelids a part of the eye area.

P.S. If you have a product or service that you would like reviewed and rambled on about much longer than necessary, I might just be your gal. This is especially true if you make chocolate or are in the house cleaning or babysitting business. I may need several samples or trials of your service, free of course, to provide a thorough review of your product and its consistency. I am fluent with Excel spreadsheets and will provide one if deemed necessary.

I really wanted to use a mirror with this one for a TOTAL GLAMOUR shot but my husband won't help me act like an idiot.

Step 1: Create in me a CLEAN heart O God, and RENEW a right spirit within me. Psalm 51:10

Step 2: May I examine my heart and mind today and see the impurities. May I be willing to be REFINED so I will be pure and beautiful, and acceptable to the Lord.

Step 3: Help me to remember the words of the Lord, "I will REFRESH the weary and satisfy the faint". Jeremiah 31:25