Do you have anything you are anal retentive about? Anal retentive. What does that even mean, anyway? I have no idea. But I do know that I have many, many things that fall under the category of things I am indeed anal retentive about. The problem though, is that it is never over anything important. Why can't I have anal retentIveness over being on time? Or how I look and what I'm wearing when I go out in public? Or doing my visiting teaching? Or flossing?
No. I'm obsessive over things that have no bearing on anything. Ridiculous, non meaningful things. If the dishes are not stacked up a certain way, with all of the food rinsed off of them before I begin washing them, I cannot begin washing. If my kids' toys are not put away in their correct spot during clean up time, it naws at me until my eyes and head start twitching, and I finally move the dumb thing to its right spot. Which is pointless because in six minutes or less, one of my kids will pick it up to play with it, or drop it on the floor somewhere else.
I am betting that my worst, most annoying thing I'm anal retentive about (at least to my husband), is the sheets and blankets that cover me. If they are even slightly bunchy, I must fix them immediately, or I won't be comfortable. If the sheet is pulled up higher than the quilt around my shoulders, I get up and fix it. It doesn't matter if it's 3 o'clock in the morning; I will get up to fix it. I cannot sleep when the bedding is not laid out nice, smooth, and even. It drives my husband up the wall.
I need to find something useful to become obsessive about.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Sick Days
Today, I am thankful for my husband.
I used to think that it was awful to be sick. But now, I can't curl up under the blankets and watch movies all day - or for several days - until I feel better. You know, there's these little critters that climb all over me, begging for food, drinks, attention, and things to do. It's tiring enough without adding a chest cold into the mix.
But Bryan has done so much to make it easier for me. Quietly and without complaint at the extra work. For example, yesterday, I never made out out of my pajamas. It was one of those kind of days. Bryan went out and bought some cough medicine (the first REAL cold medicine I've had in four years because of pregnancies and nursing babies. It was a big event for me), brought home breakfast, did the dishes, made dinner, and spent even more of his precious studying time with the kids. This morning, he got up with Jean and Alex at 6:30. Yes. 6:30. My children are crazy morning people, and I hate it. Anyway, Bryan let me sleep in a bit, and again, took care of breakfast and dinner, and handled time outs. And at the end of the day when energy was low, he was there to help get bedtime routines rolling.
I couldn't ask for a better care taker. I love him. And I love that he's mine.
I used to think that it was awful to be sick. But now, I can't curl up under the blankets and watch movies all day - or for several days - until I feel better. You know, there's these little critters that climb all over me, begging for food, drinks, attention, and things to do. It's tiring enough without adding a chest cold into the mix.
But Bryan has done so much to make it easier for me. Quietly and without complaint at the extra work. For example, yesterday, I never made out out of my pajamas. It was one of those kind of days. Bryan went out and bought some cough medicine (the first REAL cold medicine I've had in four years because of pregnancies and nursing babies. It was a big event for me), brought home breakfast, did the dishes, made dinner, and spent even more of his precious studying time with the kids. This morning, he got up with Jean and Alex at 6:30. Yes. 6:30. My children are crazy morning people, and I hate it. Anyway, Bryan let me sleep in a bit, and again, took care of breakfast and dinner, and handled time outs. And at the end of the day when energy was low, he was there to help get bedtime routines rolling.
I couldn't ask for a better care taker. I love him. And I love that he's mine.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Moving Forward
We made it to school! About seven months ago. Once plans kicked into gear preparing us for our move, I let my shiny new blog fall to the back of priorities. The very back. Then, after we were all settled into our new home, a routine started. One that obviously and unfortunately did not include the new blog.
But here I am, re-prioritizing. My inspiration? My oldest sister. If I had to write a paper entitled, "My Hero," I'd write about her. 'Cause seriously. Anybody who knew her and her story would be inspired (more on that later).
If we're being honest, moving here was not easy for me. I take that back. The move was cake. Living here has not been easy for me. In the five years Bryan and I have known each other (is that all?), we have, for the most part, always been together. As in, physically next to each other. Since moving here, though, I only see him probably a grand total of one hour a day. And that's on a good day. The rest of his time is taken up by classes, lab, and studying; leaving me feeling like a single parent. Which we knew was coming! None of that was a surprise. The surprise is, how difficult it is to live in the moment sometimes. Preparing for something and experiencing something, are two very different things. Living somewhere far away from any family or friends of any sort, with two very young children, and no husband except at dinner time and during the night while I'm asleep, has really sort of beaten me down. Without going into details, this, very likely, has been the hardest part of my life. But I'm getting better at it. And things keep moving forward.
I called my sister today to wish her a happy birthday, and once again, was blown away by how incredible of a person she is. She busily mothers her seven children, and all that that entails (multiple schools, music lessons, soccer, swim lessons, play dates, chess tournaments, cooking, driving, etc.), her husband is a bishop (this and a full time job probably keep him away longer than Bryan), she is a doula - an aid/coach/support to woman in labor, she keeps a clean house, fulfills her church callings, maintains her friendships, so many other things I'm forgetting, and to top it all off . . . she has leukemia.
Now. Not to discredit my hardships and stress - because they are very real, and really quite hard sometimes - my sister is the kind of person you look at and think, "if she can do it, I certainly can." So as I stood there tonight washing another mountain of dishes by hand (because we have no dishwasher - *whine*), with a stupid sore throat and a cold, after a long tiring day of whining, loud, and ever energetic children, I thought to myself, "I can do it. Things are not as hard as they could be. I sure love my sister."
So here we are. Moving forward.
But here I am, re-prioritizing. My inspiration? My oldest sister. If I had to write a paper entitled, "My Hero," I'd write about her. 'Cause seriously. Anybody who knew her and her story would be inspired (more on that later).
If we're being honest, moving here was not easy for me. I take that back. The move was cake. Living here has not been easy for me. In the five years Bryan and I have known each other (is that all?), we have, for the most part, always been together. As in, physically next to each other. Since moving here, though, I only see him probably a grand total of one hour a day. And that's on a good day. The rest of his time is taken up by classes, lab, and studying; leaving me feeling like a single parent. Which we knew was coming! None of that was a surprise. The surprise is, how difficult it is to live in the moment sometimes. Preparing for something and experiencing something, are two very different things. Living somewhere far away from any family or friends of any sort, with two very young children, and no husband except at dinner time and during the night while I'm asleep, has really sort of beaten me down. Without going into details, this, very likely, has been the hardest part of my life. But I'm getting better at it. And things keep moving forward.
I called my sister today to wish her a happy birthday, and once again, was blown away by how incredible of a person she is. She busily mothers her seven children, and all that that entails (multiple schools, music lessons, soccer, swim lessons, play dates, chess tournaments, cooking, driving, etc.), her husband is a bishop (this and a full time job probably keep him away longer than Bryan), she is a doula - an aid/coach/support to woman in labor, she keeps a clean house, fulfills her church callings, maintains her friendships, so many other things I'm forgetting, and to top it all off . . . she has leukemia.
Now. Not to discredit my hardships and stress - because they are very real, and really quite hard sometimes - my sister is the kind of person you look at and think, "if she can do it, I certainly can." So as I stood there tonight washing another mountain of dishes by hand (because we have no dishwasher - *whine*), with a stupid sore throat and a cold, after a long tiring day of whining, loud, and ever energetic children, I thought to myself, "I can do it. Things are not as hard as they could be. I sure love my sister."
So here we are. Moving forward.
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