December with Debbi

It's December first!! My first day off that I have a moment or four to spend blogging... FINALLY. I keep telling Will that I need to blog again-- it makes me happy to tell my ridiculous lies life story to random strangers, and I type way faster than I write on paper. So that paper journal I neglect? Yep. It still doesn't know that I got married. Or even engaged. Whatever. I seriously think I'm going to 'publish' the blog anyways and then I'll not have lost those past few months.

And I have no idea why, but I am soooo super tired lately. I am skipping prime nap-time right now for the sake of updating on a rather uneventful life lately. I mean, really, what's to say?

We're still married.
We're still totally adjusting to the blended family issues that arise nearly DAILY. Blending parenting styles or expectations or how we receive and give love... there are just THINGS that people learn with time, and we're on that path every day. I have to remember that Will all of a sudden has four kids in his home EVERY DAY-- something he hasn't had for a few years. And on top of it all, he has teenagers, so raising a three-year old is taking a whole new step back into parenting that he's long grown out of. Me, I have teenagers now. I have NO idea what I'm doing, and even my best attempts at faking-it sometimes seems like it's not working. With Em living here, it's a whole different set of rules and emotions and confusion-- and I'm talking about ME. Not to mention HER emotions. It really is true that you appreciate your parents a WHOLE LOT MORE once you have teens of your own.

Some common things people ask me about are the renovations on the house-- we're waiting until after Christmas to start on that. This year, we plan on having a blue Christmas. well, blue carpets. With green and gold decorations. :)

What's really to say? It's funny- I have so many 'things' I could gripe and complain about. Things about where I live, or my children, or my new husband, but really, it doesn't seem to be something I want or need to burden the blogosphere with. Do I want to complain and be THAT person All. The. time? not really. Because, when I step back and look at everything, I am so super blessed.

Six Word Saturday- Catching Up

I need shopping bags, not saddle!


I'm tired. And I have got NOTHING done-- as in, I have no Christmas decorations up-- which, if you know me, is REALLY crazy! I have no cookies baked. I have a big party in one week and no games ready. I have NOT ONE stocking stuffer purchased or made. I have NOT ONE Christmas gift taken care of. And, if you forget, I have 7 kids to do-- yikes.

Today I'm off to a family Christmas party. I am LUCKY I only had to make salad. I want to blog. I want to put up my Christmas lights. I want to decorate the tree. I want to go for a jog. I want to catch up on my PVR'd TV shows.

But no. Today I will be Mrs. McSpanky at Will's family party.

Control Freaks

In a new marriage, there are some things that suck change. Lots doesn't. But, some does.

For example, Will wakes up WAY before me, ALL. THE. TIME. And, I am TOTALLY a morning person, but I'm jealous shocked that he gets less sleep than me, and still functions better. What's up with that?

Because I used to start work WAY earlier than Chris ever had to, I kept the alarm beside me in bed. I am the type who doesn't push snooze-- I HATE SNOOZE. I just wake up, and get going on my day.

But Will.
Bless his heart.

He has control issues. Well, at least when it comes to the alarm! ;) He needs the alarm beside him. He needs to push snooze for 1/2 an hour. He needs to not only push the snooze a million times, but he needs to let the radio PLAY in between snoozes for HOWEVER LONG IT TAKES until he hears the full news-reel and weather. You know how, after 20 minutes the news repeats? yah. I know every. frikken. morning. about H1N1 and what Obama's up to next. Three times over.

But, being the conniving super awesome wife that I am, I am saving up to get my way for something better I let Will keep the alarm on his side. I am even getting used to the annoying fantastic news every morning.

Well, the past few days, I've been sleeping at my sister's house while she's away and I'm watching her children. Usually, Will calls my cellphone to wake me up. Last night was TV night (Survivor -- AWESOME!, and Flash Forward--LOVE IT!, and GREY'S--mmmmm) so I stayed home with Will until we had watched all the TV we could handle. It was about midnight when I got up to leave.

Turns out, the kids had locked me out of the house. So, instead, I crawled into my warm bed beside Will. He set the alarm, and we laid in each other's arms and fell to sleep.

The alarm went off.
Will woke me up.
I got out of bed, put on clothes, picked up the keys to the van, and started driving.
Got 1/2 way back to my sister's house, when I looked at the clock.

3:35.

?????

Yah.
I pulled a u-turn, and when I crawled back into bed, Will looked perplexedly at me.

What are you doing back now?
Will,...what time is it?
Huh?
....(checks clock)
Are you serious? What the heck??

Turns out that Em's phone (which was confiscated and in our room charging) rang because her friend texted her. At 3:30 in the morning.

Nice.

I soooo need to get my OWN alarm on MY side of the bed.

Dr Seuss can Fix Any Ailment!

The other day I had a "moment". This "moment" was a moment of sadness. A wallowing of sorts. Lonely and dejected.

I was having my own inner pity party, and I was also reflecting on some recent Facebook news that a friend from years back had committed suicide, leaving his wife and young son behind. I thought about how sad he must have been to have the beliefs that Mormon's have about life after death and suicide, and I thought about how selfish it seems to leave your wife and child to pick up such broken pieces. I thought about how he seemingly didn't 'reach out' for anyone-- carrying all his inner hurt with himself. I can't imagine what was that so terrible to commit such a desperate act.

So, I moped around my sister's home, trying to find something to do whist in my funk. And, hoping to be carried away in some Rinkle-Forn imaginary village, I picked up a Dr. Seuss book I had never read.

Maybe, like me, you haven't read this book before. So, although it's a bit longer than some of his regular classic stories, you can 'read it here". The pictures tell the story better than the words alone, but the main message is there!

Because, especially on this Remembrance Day, we sure need to remember that, as Canadians and Americans, British and Australians... we have been VERY fortunate to have the freedoms we possess. Because, I guarantee you, there is someone out there today who does not, and they are FAR worse off than any pity party we create for ourselves!

DID I EVER TELL YOU HOW LUCKY YOU ARE?
-by Dr. Seuss

When I was quite young
and quite small for my size,
I met an old man in the Desert of Drize.
And he sang me a song I will never forget.
At least, well, I haven't forgotten it yet.

He sat in a terribly, prickly place.
But he sang with a sunny sweet smile on his face:
When you think things are bad,
when you feel sour and blue,
when you start to get mad...
you should do what I do!

Just tell yourself, Duckie,
you're really quite lucky!
Some people are much more...
oh, ever so much more...
oh, muchly, much-much more
unlucky than you!

Be glad you don't work on the Bunglebung Bridge
that they're building across Boober Bay at Bumm Ridge.
It's a troublesome world. All the people who're in it
are troubled with troubles almost every minute.
You ought to be thankful, a whole heaping lot,
for the places and people you're lucky you're not!

Just suppose, for example,
you lived in Ga-Zayt
and got caught in that traffic
on Zayt Highway Eight!
Or suppose,
just for instance,
you lived in Ga-Zair
with your bedroom up here
and your bathroom up there!

Suppose, just suppose, you were poor Herbie Hart,
who has taken his Throm-dim-bu-lator apart!
He NEVER will get it together, I'm sure.
He never will know if the Gick or the Goor
fits into the Skrux or the Snux or the Snoor.
Yes, Duckie, you're lucky you're not Herbie Hart
who has taken his Throm-dim-bu-lator apart.

Think they work you too hard...?
Think of poor Ali Sard!
He has to mow grass in his uncle's back yard
and it's quick-growing grass
and it grows and he mows it.
The faster he mows it, the faster he grows it.
And all that his stingy old uncle will pay
for his shoving that mower around in that hay
is the piffulous pay of two Dooklas a day.
And Ali can't LIVE on such piffulous pay!
SO...

He has to paint flagpoles
on Sundays in Grooz.
How lucky you are
you don't live in HIS shoes!

And poor Mr. Bix!
Every morning at six,
poor Mr. Bix has his Borfin to fix!
It doesn't seem fair. It just doesn't seem right,
but his Borfin just seems to go shlump every night.
It shlumps in a heap, sadly needing repair.
Bix figures it's due to the local night air.

It takes him all day to un-shlump it.
And then...
the night air comes back
and it shlumps once again.

So don't YOU feel blue. Don't get down in the dumps.
You're lucky you don't have a Borfin that shlumps.

And, while we are at it, consider the Schlottz,
the Crumple-horn, Web-footed, Green-bearded Schlottz,
whose tail is entailed with un-solvable knots.
If HE isn't muchly
more worse off than y9u,
I'll eat my umbrella.
That's just what I'll do.

And you're lucky, indeed, you don't ride on a camel.
To ride on a camel, you sit on a wamel.
A wamel, you know, is a sort of a saddle
held on by a button that's known as a faddle.
And, boy! If your old wamel-faddle gets loose,
I'm telling you, Duckie, you're gone like a goose.

And poor Mr. Potter,
T-crosser,
I-dotter.
He has to cross t-s
and he has to dot i's
in an I-and-T factory
out in Van Nuys!

Oh, the jobs people work at!
Out west, near Hawtch-Hawtch,
there's a Hawtch-Hawtcher Bee-Watcher.
His job is to watch...
is to keep both his eyes on the lazy town bee.
A bee that is watched will work harder, you see.

Well...he watched and he watched.
But, in spite of his watch,
that bee didn't work any harder. Not mawtch.

So then somebody said,
"Our old bee-watching man
just isn't bee-watching as hard as he can.
He ought to be watched by ANOTHER Hawtch-Hawtcher!
The thing that we need
is a Bee-watcher-watcher!"
Well....

The Bee-Watcher-Watcher watched the Bee-Watcher.
He didn't watch well. So another Hawtch-Hawtcher
has to come in as a Watch-Watcher-Watcher!
And today all the Hawtchers who live in Hawtch-Hawtch
are watching on Watch-Watcher-Watchering-Watch,
Watch-Watching the Watcher who's watching that bee.
YOU'RE not a Hawtch-Watcher. you're lucky, you see!

And how fortunate YOU'RE not Professor de Breeze
who has spent the past thirty-two years, if you please,
trying to teach Irish ducks how to read Jivvanese.

And think of the
poor puffing Poogle-Horn Players,
who have to parade
down the Poogle-Horn Stairs
every morning to wake up
the Prince of Poo-Boken.
It's awful how often
their poogles get broken!

And, oh! Just suppose
you were poor Harry Haddow.
Try as he will.
he can't make any shadow!

He thinks that, perhaps, something's wrong with his Gizz.
And I think that, by golly, there probably is.

And the Brothers Ba-zoo.
The poor Brothers Ba-zoo!
Suppose YOUR hair grew
like THEIRS happened to do!
You think YOU'RE unlucky...?
I'm telling you, Duckie,
some people are muchly,
oh, ever so muchly,
muchly more-more-more unlucky than you!

And suppose that you lived in that forest in France,
where the average young person just hasn't a chance
to escape from the perilous pants-eating-plants!
But YOUR pants are safe! You're a fortunate guy.
And you ought to be shouting, "How lucky am I!"

And, speaking of plants,
you should be greatly glad-ish
you're not Farmer Falkenberg's
seventeenth radish.

And you're so, SO lucky
you're not Gucky Gown,
who lives by himself
ninety miles out of town,
in the Ruins of Ronk.
Ronk is rather run-down.

And you're so, so, SO lucky
you're not a left sock,
left behind by mistake
in the Kaverns of Krock!

Thank goodness for all of the things you are not!
Thank goodness you're not something someone forgot,
and left all alone in a some punkerish place
like a rusty tin coat hanger hanging in space.

That's why I say, "Duckie!
Don't grumble! Don't stew!
Some critters are much-much,
of, ever so-much-much,
so muchly much-much-more unlucky than you!"

Not Me Monday- Not Fair!

HAHAH.

So, I am NOT the biggest slacker EVER on the whole "I'm gonna keep up with the blog lately" vow from last week. Nope, NOT ME! I would also NOT like to say that I have NOT been preoccupied getting busy over my cold, working and doing regular stuff. I do NOT look forward to having some other excuse for not blogging.

It was NOT crappy to realize that I have lived in this Mo-Town for nearly 3 months now, and I do NOT have NOTHING to really show for it. I mean, my house is still NOT the same it was the day I moved in (other than that 1/2 wall), my social life is just NOT the most pathetic ever, and I am NOT getting fatter by the minisecond!

Oh wait. I did NOT get older. Not Lame.

ANYWHOOZLE, I do NOT have no excuse. This raising-a-teenage-daughter thing is so NOT all craptastic! I have NOT freaked out more than once when she didn't come home one day after school, only to find out she was NOT at her friend's house. Oh, and I will NOT mention that her friend is a HE. And I would NEVER mention that this HE is also older than her and in high school. NOPE, that would just NOT be soo cool, hey?! I will also NOT mention that after discussing it with her father and I that night, she did NOT proceed to do THE EXACT SAME THING the next day. Nope. She would NEVER be that much of a pain fun! I am not sure that children are meant to be dang cute when they're young, because USUALLY parents can remember that cuteness at moments like this. I, as you all know, did NOT totally skip that cute-childhood stage with Will's kids, and am NOT totally thinking I got a crappy deal out of it! ;S It's like I have to now NOT love them in spite of not having that to fall back on! Who's bleepitybleep idea was this teenage thing anyways?! ;) And I only have 14 more years of it to go. Whoooo.

Oh, and I do NOT like that she's failing some subjects in school because she's been too lazy to bring her homework home. No, that part is my FAVOURITE. I really enjoyed going to her school to be THAT Mom and finding all this out. Next week is NOT report cards, and Will and I have NOT been grounding her until her homework is up to date. I do NOT stress about this, because I love her, but also because I know that her mother will NOT be seeing said report card, and will NOT totally think I'm a deadbeat stepmother if I send home a report card with an F on it... especially since Em is an honours student. (when she does her homework)

I think I could NOT write a novel about the pains of raising a teenager even just from my OWN teenage experiences. That being said, I think my mother is totally NOT laughing her face off at this post! I do NOT think I was SOOOO due some seriously bad teenage antics based on the teenager I was. I do NOT think that Karma sucks too! ;) I am NOT so NOT cut out for this.

Is Nyquill Addictive?

So, I dick adain. I dont libe beeling so yucky, but at least I hab a bery cute boy to nurde me back to helb.

You wanna know one of my most annoying bet beebes lately? When beoble day dey hab da dwine Fwew. Mofe of da dime, dey don't. Dis Dwine Fwew id detting redidulous. De whoe down is dick, and der iz mass hysderia about detting da shot and washing hams and aboiding beobo ebrywhere I doe. Get dis-- eben treehouse has a fing on detting da shot right now doo! How dumb.

We hab a doctor in our ward, and he towed ebryone on sunday dat dis is dust da fwew! It is not as dangerous as some ubber dicknesses, and dat most beobo can aboid detting dwine fwew dwight easily. He daid it id not fun to hab, but dat most beobo will get ober it. He dowd us dat der is worb dings coming, and da dwine fwew is gonna be nofing combared do what is ahead.

Will id actully dick too. But he went do word today andyways. Because we need do eat. :S

LL id home today. Em was dick for a week, and Mimi had been dick for da pad few weeks doo, but she coughs on ebryone all da dime. It id probabwy why we all are dick now. Not berry imbressed.

Six Word Saturday- Sunday counts, right?

True Honeymoons Never Really End, Right?




(a few shots of Will and I on our trip to Vancouver last week. I'll post about that soon.)

*for more Six Word Saturday, visit Cate at www.showmyface.com. it's great fun!* And yes, I realize it's Sunday today, but whatever. I'm a bit late!