What's that big yellow thing in the sky...

After weeks and weeks of rain, thunderstorms, lightning, hail and high winds I am feeling a little anticlimactic today. The sun is shining brightly. The humidity level is down. They sky is so very, very blue. I should be feeling peaceful and happy that the storms have subsided for the foreseeable future, yet somehow I am not.

I feel bored, let down, disappointed, depressed...how sad is that?! Watching the storms roll in, listening to the weather reports on the radio, following the storm chaser chats on the Internet were a huge source of entertainment over the past few weeks. I think maybe I should have aspired to be a meteorologist or better yet, a storm chaser instead of following the safer path of office life. Almost nothing excites me like a good storm brewing.

Don't get me wrong, given the history of my life boring is good. Boring is way better than chaos any day of the week. I just have to remind myself that the sun is shining brightly in the sky as it should.

What does NO mean to you?

It is the never ending battle.

Daughter: Mommy, can I jump off the back of the sofa?
Me: Nope, pretty sure that's not a good idea, you could get hurt.
Daughter: Why not?
Me: Didn't I just tell you why not? You could get hurt, the answer is no.
Daughter: Please? Pretty please? Oh please, oh please, oh please?
Me: No means no to me, what does it mean to you?

We go through this battle almost daily now. I don't remember questioning my parents like this when I was her age. Maybe I did and just don't remember. I have tried my best to be consistent in no meaning no. If I say maybe, that's one thing but if I say no, no amount of begging, whining nor pleading will change my mind. Why is this such a hard thing for a five year old to get?

I have also decided that begging, whining and pleading are the second most annoying activities that my daughter participates in. The first would be the questioning of whether or not I really meant no. One of us may not survive this life lesson...

You let your kid do what...?

Let me start by saying that I will be the first to admit there are things I let my daughter do that other parents might not let their child do. I may even be blog fodder for somebody else's blog, but I witnessed several events over the weekend that lead me to believe that these parents must have at least one more child than they want.

The first one was on Saturday morning while I was hosting a garage sale. Dad drives by with Young Son in the car. Great, Dad is giving Mom some time alone. Little does Mom know that Young Son is standing in the front seat of the car leaning forward with his little arms crossed on the dash while peering out the window. Yes, the car is in motion as Dad speeds down the residential street going at least twice the posted limit. I am guessing they have 5 more just like Young Son waiting at home...

The next 200 were witnessed while searching for some friends in the parking lot of a Jimmy Buffet concert. For anyone that has ever been to see Jimmy, you might be familiar with the term Parrot Head and would have some understanding of the outlandish activities associated with tailgating at one of his concerts. There were golf carts decorated like sharks, tiki huts, parrots, surf boards, you name it. There was even a very large above ground pool surrounded by a sea of RV's. That being said, you can assume that alcohol was being consumed in large quantities and along with that, people behaving quite wildly. What better place to bring your young children? Little tiny babies, toddlers, young sons and daughters, older sons and daughters, teenagers dressed like thugs and Hooter's girls... Yep, next year I'm gonna take my 5 year old - well, she'll be 6 by then, plenty old enough! I am going to sit her up at the bar and pour her a shot of tequila then let her go play in the street!!

The last one is a little more close to home and therefore way more frustrating. BF's daughter was with us for the weekend. Sunday afternoon we got a call from Mom's BF saying Mom is drunk and can we keep the daughter one more night. Sure we can. Thirty minutes later, daughter was playing with the iPhone, phone rings, Mom's name and number pop up so she answers the phone. Mom starts interrogating her daughter asking where she is, what is she doing, why isn't she coming home tonight? This goes on for a couple of minutes within hearing of the BF. I am waiting for him to go over and rescue his daughter from her drunk Mother. Nope, he does nothing. I finally go over to him and harshly whisper in his ear that he needs to get over there and rescue his daughter. By the time he gets over there, Mom has finished yelling and has hung up on her daughter.

Now on the other hand, I took my 5 year old to see a PG-13 movie yesterday. Pirates of the Caribbean #4. It was awesome! I had to pay the penalty of explaining why the mermaids had fangs and why they weren't nice mermaids over and over and over...but it was WELL worth the price.

Heavens to Murgatroyd...

Tomorrow is my daughter's dance recital for ballet.

A few weeks ago I found out that her dad completely forgot the recital was indeed this Saturday and has overextended his obligations with another commitment. I handled it pretty well trying to accommodate the changes but in my head I was thinking, another commitment? Really? We talked in great length about the recital and how he was going to take her afterwards for a special Daddy/Daughter time. How do you forget something like that?

Last night we were discussing the recital. He said he was going to be able to get away for a couple of hours to make it to the recital and was asking my opinion on the best route to get there. So, I tell him how I would get there. He tells me which route he thinks he should take. (My first thought is why the hell did you ask me if you already had a route in mind?) I politely tell him that there is major road construction going on in that area which is why I didn't suggest it in the first place. (Construction that has been going on for at least 6 months now) Then he says he just won't be able to make it because the route I suggested will take twice as long to get there. I tried to convince him that was not the case but he was certain he knew better than me how long it would take to get there.

At this point I am having a flashback to when we were married and how we ended up in conversations like this all of the time. He is right, I am wrong and so very stupid because I have no idea what I am talking about. I have been trying very hard to be polite and helpful, but I am done. I am going to let him have it...until...I look over at my daughter who is ignoring the TV to listen to what I am saying to her father. Deep breath...

I offer to map both routes on Google and see how much of a time difference it is. He tells me to stop being condescending. I am biting my tongue so hard I am sure it is bleeding. Then he tells me he just isn't sure how he is going to make it to the recital and he can't just back out on his other commitment. I had to stop talking to him right then or I was going to explode. I told him we could discuss it later as I needed to get Jenna to bed and hung up.

He can back out on his daughter, but he can't back out on his friends?! How selfish can one man be? I don't even want him to be there. I want to punch him in the face. I want to scream at him until my face turns blue. I want to tell our daughter what a selfish jerk he is, but I wont...I will leave it alone. I will let his actions speak to his daughter about what kind of person he is. I won't bash him to her. I won't prejudice her against him. I know what it is like to hear from your mom how horrible your dad is. How much those words hurt because it makes you feel like you don't have her permission to love him anyway.

Of course you know the first thing I had to do this morning was to map both routes. The time difference? A whopping 5 minutes! Heavens to Murgatroyd...I think that vein in my forehead just popped...

Internet Shopping Junky...

It seems I have replaced my candy addiction with an Internet shopping addiction. Maybe I had both addictions at the same time and just wasn't aware. Now, I am painfully aware.

There is something incredibly exciting about that e-mail that says my package has shipped. I immediately log on and see what the tracking status of my package is. Usually I get that "hey dumba$$, your package really hasn't shipped yet, check back later" message which just kills me. The next day, I log back in to see if my package has shipped for real now and where it is.

I wonder, which state will it come from? Where will it ship to before it gets to me? How many days before I get my package? It is like a soap opera to me. Shoes from Seattle, Books from Biloxi, Movies from Michigan...

When the package arrives I get an e-mail notification saying it is here and who at my office signed for the package. I immediately rush downstairs, find my package and rip it open like a pack of hungry dogs. Inside I find my Internet treasure, my well traveled item and my addiction goes on.

Then comes the let down. No more packages on their way. What can I order next? I get e-mails by the dozens, save 30%, 40%, 50%... I get catalogs by the hundreds, act now and take an extra $20 off your purchase of $75 or more. Ahhhh.....

Wait, what's that? My new gaming system that I swore I would never buy has just arrived? See ya....

Bat-Sh!t Crazy

**Note - this post was written yesterday but I couldn't publish it for some reason**

I am not sure where the term came from and not quite sure why bat poop should ever be referred to as crazy, but when dealing with the mother of my BF's daughter, it is the most appropriate comment I can make.

Last night I was graciously invited to attend the BF's daughter's softball game. While on my days off from my kiddo, watching 10 year old girls miss hits and fall down a lot is not high on my list of priorities, but we do what we have to do to get some time together so off I went.

The BF picks me up on his way to the game and is already grumbling under his breath. As we are doing 90 down the frontage road of the highway he tells me that the Mother has gotten herself pickled again and won't be able to take the daughter to her game so we will have to "hurry" over to get her and try to make it there by 7:00. At this point it is 6:20 and we are all the way across the world during rush hour traffic trying to get there. I'm thinking NOT gonna make it.

After we secure the lovely daughter in the car and race off to the playing field, she starts telling us how she might have strep throat but that's okay because her mom gave her some of her antibiotics or something like that. After she had one she fell asleep for 6 hours then her mom gave her another one and she slept for 10 hours so she is feeling much better now.

Here is where I stare lazer beams into the side of the BF's head while thinking to myself very loudly in my head - 'did you just hear what your daughter said'. I cannot believe her mother gave her adult medicine for symptoms of something as serious as strep throat. From the sounds of it, she didn't give her antibiotics at all but rather something else from the cabinet. As she is bat-sh!t crazy it could have been one of her anti-depressents or worse a pain killer or something like that.

It took everything in my being to not explode right there on the spot. I didn't want to freak out in front of the daughter because she is already struggling with how crappy her mom is. I tried to think about how I would feel if my mom chose to get drunk instead of going to my softball game and did some of the deep breathing exercises that I am beginning to get really good at for some reason.

Later in the evening the daughter says that her mom had her out in the backyard painting the pool after school today and that she was going to fill it in the morning and the daughter was going to go swimming in it that afternoon. My mom sirens are going crazy at this point - possible strep throat, not feeling well, sure throw the kid in an ice cold pool and you can kill her with pnuemonia...

On the way home from the game, the mother calls and asks if we know where her daughter is. She is frantic and says she can't find her...bat-sh!t crazy woman...

Her daughter was supposed to be at her Softball game at 7:00 last night. My BF gets a call at 6:00 from the drunk mother asking where the daughter is. BF says, she should be with you but I am on my way to come take her to her game as you are obviously not going to make it.

Strange dreams...

I have often wondered if other people dream with the same intensity that I do or if I am just wired differently.

I had a good dream two nights ago of Johnny Depp seducing me and when I woke up I could still smell his cologne (damn alarm!). Now I know that JD will never be knocking on my door and really if he did, I would probably turn him away as the dream was so intense I know I would never survive the real thing.

Last night my dreams went the other way. I dreamt that I kept asking my coworkers to call a therapist for me because I needed help. Then I took off all of my clothes and was walking around the building naked. I kept telling everyone to call a doctor.

Next I am at the doctor's office and the lady taking my application is asking me all of these questions about my information and when she is done, she tells me to go home and someone will be calling me in the next 4-6 weeks. I kept telling her that would be too late, I need help now but she just kept saying "Next".

I woke up from that dream almost as sweaty and started wondering about dreams and what they mean. When I do have significant dreams, I often awake with the feeling that whatever I dreamt about really just happened. Whether it be a tornado, flood, fire or fantasy, they seem so real. Sometimes the feelings experienced during my dreams will linger long into the morning or even for days if it was a really traumatic dream.

Sometimes my dreams even come true, that sense of Deja Vu, knowing what the person next to you is going to say or do next because you have already played out the scene in a dream before. That is really spooky...

Does anyone else have these types of dreams or are they meant to be more fanciful or fleeting?

Putting it all back together...

The roofing materials were delivered to my house Friday and I got a little bit giddy. My new patio table and chairs have come in and things are almost back to normal after our whopping wind/hail storm in April. BF helped put the chairs together as they came in a big box marked "some assembly required". They went together pretty quickly. He assemble the first two on the uneven lawn so they have a tad bit of wobble to them. I suggested the patio for the next two assemblies and those came together a LOT better. Good help is hard to find but he is always willing and does it without complaining. One point in his favor!!!

Now I have my patio put back together and the contractor is working on putting the house back together this week. I am really looking forward to my home being restored to the original condition like those Allstate commercials!! Spent most of the weekend just digging out of the daily grind. The weather was beautiful and I really wanted to be out in it as much as I could so I managed to rearrange enough things that I almost got a sunburn!

I did find out on Friday that my darling daughter lost her dance shoes. Her recital is Saturday of this weekend. I had to purchase a $20 pair of ballet shoes to be used for one week...UGH! The upside is that she will dance her little heart out in the shoes at home as long as they still fit and even some after that, so it isn't a complete loss. Next fall she wants to do Karate. Not sure whether or not I am excited about that as she can almost kick my A$$ already!!

Today it is back to wistfully gazing out the window, thankful for a job but wishing it was an outdoor job just for today...

Just there...

I've been struggling with the blah's lately. Work is fine, home is fine, BF is fine. Everything is just that, fine. Nothing exciting, special or wonderful going on. Then I think about how selfish and complacent I am being by begrudjing my fine-ness. After all of the years of digging myself out of chaos, fine should be extra special. Fine for me should be more than enough, but I will have to admit, I am bored.

Things with the BF have hit a plateau and have stuck there for quite awhile. We are almost to our one year anniversary and I just don't see us going anywhere else soon. Of course then I started thinking about what else I want from the BF. Do I want to get married? Do I want us to live together? Do I want more time with him? I can't seem to say yes to any of these questions so I realize that we are right where we need to be.

I guess I am just stuck in that place between bad and good where everything is just kind of blah.

Why I hate garage sales...

Kiddo was with her dad last night so instead of relaxing on the sofa, quietly sipping my wine and basking in the silence, I immediately headed upstairs to the dreaded playroom. My darling girl did a fantastic job of letting go of many of her beloved toys that she never plays with. Usually when we try this exercise I have to listen to the stories of how much she loves each item and why we can never get rid of that item that she hasn't touched since the last time we tried to purge.

Two hours later, I have all of the relinquished toys organized, bagged in groups and downstairs. My dining room has been turned into a gypsy den with all of the crap, I mean treasures that will be sold in our community garage sale. The sale of course happens to fall on the Saturday that EVERYTHING in the world happens on. Garage sale, dance recital, Jimmy Buffet concert... Those are just the things I have commited to squeeze in that day. I had to turn down at least 4 other opportunities because I just couldn't fit any more into that one day.

I am dreading this garage sale with a passion. I hate to drag my stuff out of doors, put it carefully on display and watch as the heathens swarm. Dragging their tired, dirty, sticky children through my wares. Messing everything up. It is never one casual shopper at a time. They all arrive at the same time and then it is complete chaos as they pick up an item, turn it left, turn it right then set it down on another table. The coffee maker does not belong on the table with the children's clothes. Why would you think that is where it would go? Put it back where you found it!

As you can tell, I am not meant for a life in retail service. People make me crazier than normal as they are sifting through things. Not to mention the people that distract you while their children are shoving as many things into their pockets as they can fit. Really? That item was marked as a quarter. If you need it that badly, just ask me and I will give it to you, but don't think for a minute that I don't notice your scrawny child now suddenly looks over weight.

Another reason I hate garage sales is that my mother used to drag me from sale to sale when I was a kid. No, I don't want that bald Barbie to play with. No, please don't buy me that dorky jumper with the obscene bunny on the front of it. Seriously people, don't do this to your children as it can evidently scar them for life!

Hours later, I would be the tired, dirty, sticky kid with the bag of crap, I mean treasures that I never wanted nor asked for. But it was such a good deal...

Future Lawyer or Hostage Negotiator...

I have decided my daughter stands a pretty good chance of becoming either a lawyer or a hostage negotiator.

From the time I pick her up from day care in the afternoon it begins. "What are we going to do tonight?" My answer is usually the same, go home, make dinner, eat, take a bath and go to bed. When you live an hour away from work, there isn't much time at the end of the day to really "do" anything. The negotiations begin; "can we go out to dinner", "can we go visit XX person", can we go and do and go and do... I am afraid she is in for quite a disappointment when she finally realizes that life is not about going and doing all of the time.

After we finally come to terms with going home and eating another boring dinner, the negotiations begin in earnest. "Do I have to take a bath tonight" - Yes, "can I sleep with you tonight" - No. "Please, oh please, oh please for tonight, just tonight, just this once, I promise." I usually let her sleep with me one night a week on the weekend. That way I am not as concerned about lack of sleep or disruption of the daily routine. Even with that, every night we go through this.

"My room is ugly", "I'm scared" or "you are so far away it feels like you are in California" are a few of the arguments I get. Now, my daughter has one of the cutest rooms I have seen for a kid. She has a super comfortable bed and I even let her sleep with the light on. She just hates to be alone. I don't blame her, I hate it too.

Personally, I would let her sleep with me every night if I could get her to sleep without me having to be in the bed. I have my evening ritual of face washing, futile exercising, getting things ready for tomorrow, etc... Which means I am not in bed until at least 9:30. That is way too late for her to be up as we get up at O'dark-thirty every morning.

After having the same discussions, night after night after night, I wonder how she manages to keep after it. She never gives up. She never stops trying. Her attempts at negotiating become more and more sophisticated as the weeks go by. She has even tried black mailing me a time or two and she is only 5. I am in BIG trouble!

Moody Monday...

Woke up this morning trying to figure out which day of the week it was. I actually slept soundly through the night, had some steamy dreams about Richard Gere (move over Julia) and felt well rested when I woke up. I was even in a good mood, then I realized it was Monday and the whole thing went south from there.

I am normally a pretty cheerful person but I just couldn't bring myself to be in a good mood as I slunk out of bed and into the bathroom where I was greeted by a ginormous spider of epic proportion. It was really about the size of a silver dollar, but when it is unexpected, it is bigger x10. I had to sneak past the spider to get a shoe and the poor guy didn't even flinch as the smack of death came down. Then I grumbled some more as I cleaned off my shoe, wiped up the spider and flushed him off to a better place. Better than on my bathroom floor that is.

Next I decided to torture myself some more by stepping on the scale that lies like a five year old caught with her hand in the candy jar. Cussing at the scale never seems to lesson its lies. Next into the shower I go to wash the sleep from my mind and by the time I got out of the shower I am almost in a good mood. Off to the kitchen I go for coffee that is hot and ready, I love having a programmable coffee maker!

Once I have donned some clothes, slapped on some makeup and attempted to organized my disheveled hair I mentally prepare myself for the waking of the child that hates Mondays more than I do. Up the stairs I go, smile on my face and clearing my throat for the morning song which I sing off key no matter how hard I try.

Good morning to you, good morning to you, good morning, good morning, good morning to you. It's time to wake up, it's time to go to school. Good morning, good morning, good morning to you.

Followed by...

Get out of bed sleepy head, it's time to get up and get out of bed.

No wonder my daughter hates getting woken up in the morning! I am secretly hoping she remembers this with fondness when she gets older. I am able to overcome her normal Monday grumpiness with the promise of getting to wear shorts today (it's gonna be 92 this afternoon). She's up and in a great mood. Whew!

Drop her off at day care, sit through endless construction zone traffic and channel surf on the radio because nobody is actually playing music this morning only to arrive at work when something good finally comes on. UGH!

Thus begins the week with an up, down, up moody Monday morning...

Eternal Optimist...

Things seem to have managed to right themselves these days. The insurance adjuster agreed my roof was a complete loss, the contractor finally provided me with all of the paperwork that prevents me from going to jail for Insurance fraud and my new check is on the way.

The furniture that the BF won earlier this year has been successfully delivered to my living room (his apartment was too small for a sectional so I win) and the old sofa has been moved upstairs to the playroom. The new sofa has recliners on both ends and I have decided that reclining while watching TV is a luxury I am willing to get used to.

I did have to limit my time in the playroom as my daughter has WAY too many toys. She has stuff that she has never played with, played with once or twice and plays with regularly. I have tried in vain to talk her into parting with group A and B so that we have more room for the stuff she really plays with but it always results in crying. If I get rid of the stuff when she isn't home, it always ends up becoming the latest of many traumas in her life. (I can foresee years of therapy in her future because pretty soon I am going to go crazy and clean it all out - damn the consequences!)

Work is going well, my major project has reached another important milestone and I didn't lose any hair on the way. Very excited about this one getting closer to completion as it is HUGE.

Now, I need to figure out if my mood swings from bliss to despair back to bliss again require medication or if it is just a natural occurrence due to outside circumstances. LOL!!

The horror of it all...

Got a call from the BF last night after he had dropped his daughter off from softball practice. When they got there, her mother was so out of her mind drunk that she walked from her house to the liquor store to buy more wine. The good news is the Breathalyzer machine in her car prevented her from driving. The bad news, her daughter had to bear witness yet again to how out of control her mother is. The mother started yelling at the father because he wouldn't take her to get more to drink then threatened to call 9-1-1 if he didn't leave the house immediately. She said she would tell the police he was an intruder if he stayed. Personally, I would have stayed the line on this one and handed her the phone and said go for it. I have no idea why he left. Hind sight is 20/20 I guess. Instead he waited across the street until his daughter called him to say the mom had passed out, she was safe and was going to bed.

The BF went to the Attorney General's office this morning to see what he could do to about getting his name added to his daughter's birth certificate so he can get the ball rolling on custody for his daughter. Sadly, he cannot do anything without the mother's signature stating he is the father of their daughter. I am sure he is really kicking himself right now for waiting all of these years to do anything about his name not being on the birth certificate.

Now it is on to an attorney. I pray for him and his daughter both that they are able to find a solution to this mess. The mother continues to drink so heavily that she either passes out or blacks out. The next morning she has NO recollection of anything that happened the night before. It is insane. He can't even call CPS because he is afraid he will lose his daughter completely.

I know the laws are there to protect the children, but there has to be a better way handle this. Give them a DNA test to prove paternity then rock on. I hope he finally sees the writing on the wall and realizes that he has to really do something. If not, he will have to go because I can't be involved with anyone that would leave their kid like that. I still can't believe he left her there last night.

In the details...

So I just found out my contractor has a form they give you that states they will do the work for what they settle with the insurance company for. It also has in writing the 1% deductible discount for allowing them to put a sign in my yard. I went back and forth with one of the reps for days about how I felt this wasn't right and that I needed this information in writing.

His partner called me today.

Him: You have that.
Me: Have what?
Him: Have that form.
Me: No, I don't have that form.
Him: Yes, you signed it.
Me: All I signed the form was an agreement to allow you to talk to my insurance company and I didn't get a copy of that.
Him: The agreement is on that form.
Me: No, I read the form, it wasn't on there
Him: It was supposed to be. Let me get it fixed and I will send it right over

Sheesh! Good help is hard to find! I am just ready to have my house restored!

You hurt my feelings...

A couple of weeks ago my daughter started this new thing where when she gets in trouble, she says "You hurt my feelings". I have been trying to figure out where she learned this. Maybe they are discussing feelings in school, but I haven't seen any progress sheets showing that on the curriculum lately. I have tried asking her but she is not giving it up. My guess would be that is comes from my well meaning Mother who often wears her feelings outside of her body where they are easilty injured.

The first time she used this statement, I tried not to laugh. After all, she was getting in trouble for something she had done wrong. How did that hurt her feelings? I asked her if me disciplining her was hurting her feelings and if she thought that I should just let her do everything she was not supposed to do because preventing mischief was hurting her feelings, to which she naturally said yes.

Last night as we were snuggling on the couch watching DWTS, she started kicking the dog lightly with her foot. I asked her nicely "please stop kicking the dog". She immediately acted like she had no idea what I was talking about. "I'm not kicking the dog". We repeated this process several times and finally I had to ask her "does that foot belong to someone else and/or are you currently under the control of aliens". Her response, "you hurt my feelings". I told her if she kicked the dog again, she would be off the sofa. The dog kicking immediately stopped.

Next, we had a dance-a-thon where she whirled frantically around the room trying to imitate the dancers on TV. This is a normal occurrence during this program so I wasn't overly concerned until she did a Flying Wallenda leap onto the dog who was quietly sleeping on the sofa.

At this point I snapped. I hoisted her off the dog and sofa and asked her just what in the hell she thought she was doing. I know, I know, strong language but sometimes that will get her attention. Immediately, I get "you hurt my feelings" followed by copious amounts of tears. I think I really scared her more than I hurt her feelings. She wasn't expecting to be flying again quite so soon.

I knew I had to put a stop to this attempted play on my emotions. I asked her how she felt about hurting the dog. The dog had run away and was hiding under the bed at this point. Poor thing. He is not a big dog in any way. He runs about 15-16 lbs and most of that is fur. She responded by asking me how I felt about hurting her feelings. I do deserve some extra "good mom" points for not throttling her on the spot.

I redirected with my concern about her lack of compassion for her poor dog that had just been traumatized and asked how she felt about hurting him AND his feeling. I think I got her attention here as the sobbing started to subside. Then we talked about the Chihuahua she wants me to get for her (which she has already been told "NO WAY") and how tiny and fragile a little Chihuahua is and how irresponsible she had been with the dog we already have.

In the end, she coaxed the dog out from under the bed and apologized to him, but I could not get her to understand that saying "you hurt my feelings" was not how we deflect away from what we have done wrong. Sometimes your feelings are going to get hurt, but before you blame someone else, you have to look at your own actions first.

Then it hit me - EPIPHANY

How many times have my feelings been hurt as a direct result of my actions? How many times have I blamed others for responding poorly when my approach was at fault? In the end, I am the only one responsible for my feelings and I can choose whether or not to be hurt by the actions of others.

We had a long talk about feelings after the calamity of the situation had died down. I think we are both onto a better understanding about the responsibility we hold in deciding which emotions we are going to use. The good news is that before the last good night was said, we had settled our differences and promised to be more careful with the dog. I am sure HE is happy about that too.

With a heavy heart...

I woke up this morning listening to the rain pummeling down outside my window. I would have loved to have shut the alarm off, rolled back over and stayed in bed. Instead, I slunk my way out of bed and started my day. The power went off in the night so I spent the first 10 minutes of my morning fixing clocks, making my forgotten coffee and trying to shake the sludge out of my brain.

After a much needed shower I was starting to feel more alert, getting a positive mood on for the day and then it hit. The morning news announce that Osama bin Laden was killed. At first I felt a huge sense of relief but then was quickly horrified when the news showed the crowds celebrating and shouting U-S-A...U-S-A. No matter how much I feel that it was necessary for Osama to be taken out, I cannot bring myself to celebrate his death in that manner.

We have to remember that even though the head is dead, the body is living and now is going in multiple directions. We will have to be ever more vigilant from all sides as there is sure to be retaliation.

So, I pray for all of our soldiers and their families that we are able to remain strong and stay the course until there is freedom for all. I pray that we remember how we obtained our freedom and don't insult the efforts of our forefathers by disrespecting our military. Last, but not least, I pray that God will guide President Obama in his days to come. I didn't vote for him, but he is our Commander in Chief and has a tremendous responsibility for the safety of our nation.