Stupid college girl

Let me tell you a story.

One time when I was a sweet little college student at BYU, I was walking to my car after a big group hang out.  It was late (probably close to midnight) and I was walking to my car by myself.

#1. I was not smart.
#2. I lived in a bubble world in a bubble college, which reinforced my view that life was safe and happy and everyone was basically kind at their core.
#3. I had not a single thought about how maybe I shouldn't be walking to my car late at night by myself.
#4. Nothing really bad happened to me because I was walking to my car by myself, I just look back on this story and realize how utterly and completely naive I was.  About everything.

So, I'm on my phone walking to my car, minding my own business and feeling pretty happy about life.  A car passes going the same direction as me, and as soon as they pass their brake lights turn on and they begin a slow turn and head back toward me.  AGAIN, I FELT NO FEAR.  No thought crossed my mind like "this person is going to abduct me" or "something bad might happen."  Nope.  My only thought was, "hey!  It must be a friend!  They are turning around to say hi."

Seriously!!  WHO WAS I??!!  If that happened to me today I would be speed dialing 911 as soon as I saw the brake lights.  I might have swung to the other extreme in my old age.

Anyway, this car turned around so they are now heading towards me on the opposite side of the road. I see the back window roll down.  I see a person lean the top half of their body out the window.  I raise my hand to wave (because obviously these are friendly strangers).  The car speeds up and swerves towards me.

WHACK!

I got nailed.  Hard.  With a flying object of some kind.  In the nether regions.

IN THE NETHER REGIONS I SAY!!

Whaa?  How?  Who? What just happened???

The car sped off (presumably full of laughter).  I was in shock.  I looked down, and on the sidewalk was a Hostess cream pie, chocolate to be exact, smooshed into a million gooey pieces, the remnants on my pants and dripping down my leg.

I got Hostess cream pied.  At about 35 miles per hour.

And I laughed.  I wasn't upset.  These guys were dill holes, yes.  But hey, it could have been a lot worse.  At least it didn't hit me in the face!

Don't you worry though, I had a huge bruise on my lady parts for a week.

Did that stop me from being a stupid idiotic young adult and walking to my car alone?  Nope.  Sure didn't.

But I will never look at a Hostess cream pie the same.

The tornado

I had a pride shattering moment yesterday.

If you're like me, then your house goes in cycles from clean to slightly messy, to more messy, to junkyard in a hurricane messy, and then back to clean.  It stays in the clean phase for about a nanosecond.  I usually run around like a maniac cleaning up barbies, dirty socks, stuffed animals and/or food wrappers all day only to have my house still look like a complete wreck by five o'clock.  Sometimes life takes precedence over being the maid, and on those occasions my house gets uber neglected.

This past weekend was one of those times.  My sister Calee and I are filming a music video (you definitely don't want to miss it), and it has been kind of all consuming the past few days.  We are filming part of it at my house, but I don't have a blank wall/nice background so we took the classy road and tacked a sheet to the living room wall.  I have a tripod and props laying around.  We have filmed the same song about a billion times, and I've listened to it and watched the footage about a billion times a billion times.  (Yes, I am also editing this beast.  Did I mention I'm not an editor?  That makes it fun.)  Then Saturday we were gone all day filming at other locations (in 30 degree weather wearing short sleeved dresses.  It was the best day of my life).  Then Sunday I had choir practice then church then to my dad's for a birthday celebration. Monday I was gone all day.  Tuesday I was gone all day.  I finally got home Tuesday afternoon, ready to do some cleaning.  FINALLY.  I put baby down for a nap, when I heard a knock at the door.  My 9 year old clears a path to the doorway and answers it, and I hear someone asking for me.  I go to the door and see my visiting teachers.

OH NO.

OH NO OH NO.

(For those of you who may not know, visiting teachers are two women from my church who come visit me every month and chat and bring treats and leave me with a nice little message.  I have ladies that I visit teach as well.  I love the program so much.  Except when I have a tornado house.  Then I don't love it so much.)

Apparently there was a miscommunication and they were under the impression that they were coming to visit me.  In my putrescence. (Look it up.)

I should mention that these ladies are new to me, and have only visited me once before. At which time my home was pristine and smelled like apple cider and all my children were sedated in the basement.  JK.  My older kids were at school and my baby was napping.  Planned it.  Nailed it.

I had no choice.  I was standing there at the door.  No excuse would have worked, although I ran through a list of them in my brain:

I'm not home.
I'm asleep.
Who are you again?
I'm not Nikki.
I'm leaving.
You're leaving.
Visit?  We just finished the visit!  Thanks for all the great conversation!  Buh bye!

Instead, I let them in.  They stepped over piles of jackets and backpacks and small children.  They brushed crumbs and toys off the couch so they would have a place to sit.  And they warily eyeballed my sheet covered wall.

It's just a dead body behind there.  Don't worry about it.

We chatted and I made up some lame excuse about my house, like that I've been filming a music video.  I'm a 32 year old Mormon mother of 3 and I'm filming a music video.  Sounds legit.  I'm sure they recognized that it's a perfectly valid reason to have my house looking like it did.  Doesn't everyone film music videos instead of doing the dishes?  No?  Hmm.

They left me with a sweet message on prayer (all the while offering silent prayers for my sanity which had obviously left me, I'm sure) and went on their merry way.

After they left I laid down on a pile of fruit snack wrappers and licked my pride wounds.  That sentence is so gross I can't even handle it.

They left.  I was embarrassed.  The end.

10 things smart husbands will say

Want your woman to be head over heels for you? Here are 10 classy lines that a smart husband will have in his back pocket at all times.  You're welcome.

1. Sweat pants are so classy these days!
2. The musk of your unwashed hair is delicious.
3. Of course you should have another serving of chocolate cake.  No one deserves it more than you.  In fact, have four more servings if you'd like.  And here's a Dr. Pepper to wash it down.
4.When you wear no makeup it really reminds me how much I love your personality.
5. Honey, that outfit looks even better today than it did yesterday!
6. Your furry legs make me feel so warm and snuggly!
7. I love when you wear your glasses and teeth whitening retainers at night, it really brings out your eyes.
8. You're tired tonight?  Let me rub your feet in a non-sexual way and then you go straight to bed.
9. I'd love to go pick up some tampons for you.  Would you like me to grab anything else?  Like a treat?  Or my dignity?
10. Of course I don't mind that you put a little ding in the car.  The fact that it's from you will be a reminder of how lucky I am to have you.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a shower not to take.

Groceries Smosheries

Am I the only one in the world who hates grocery shopping?  I seriously hate it.  HATE HATE HATE.  Even looking at the picture I posted gives me anxiety.    I mean, does anyone's cart really look like that?? Where are the Doritos??!

Grocery shopping stresses me out.  Big time.  I feel like I have to have all my meals planned and know all the ingredients I need, and that is overwhelming to me.  So I put it off and put it off until my children are eating shoelaces and ketchup for dinner.

At that point I run to the store just for the basics, and end up coming home with chocolate peanut butter, hot pink sugar cookies, and a random cut of meat that I know nothing about, but it was on sale, so why not. I manage to spend a billion dollars at the store and somehow WE STILL HAVE NOTHING TO EAT.  How does that happen?? It's like I'm living some sick joke over and over again while slowly starving to death.

So I experiment with the on sale mystery meat for dinner and my kids end up complaining and making gagging noises and asking if they can please have shoelaces instead.  It's a vicious cycle.

If I ever become a katrillionaire (it's a real word) I will have an in-house cook who does all the meal planning and grocery shopping.  And dishes.  Obvi.

Until then, I will be over here writing on this blog to avoid going to the grocery store.  Good thing we have a lot of shoelaces.

Tender Moments

I was able to go to Time Out for Women a few weekends ago, and it was wonderful.  I felt uplifted and encouraged and inspired.  I was able to watch my amazing sister Calee Reed perform, and I couldn't help but think about how happy our mom must be to know that Calee is passing on the legacy of music.  Calee is so talented and I bawled the whole time she was on stage.  She is living her dream!!  It is so beautiful to watch and I am so proud of her!

I also saw Mercy River perform, and was especially touched by a song they did called "Walk You Through the Night."  It's a song about motherhood, and about how although as mothers we do not have all the answers, we can walk our children through dark times and love them perfectly.  I thought not only of my own children but also of my mother.  It has been almost four years since she passed away.  Although my mom was not perfect, she was the perfect mother for me.

I spent the next few days thinking about that song, and thinking about how I could overcome my own insecurities and shortcomings as a mother.  I bought the Mercy River album (duh) and was listening to that song when my 2 year old came into the kitchen with me.  She grabbed my legs and we started to dance.  My heart about exploded with love for this tiny human that is a piece of myself.  I bent down and picked her up in a cradle-style hold and began to rock her back and forth to the song.  My eyes welled with tears as I was filled with gratitude for the opportunity to be her mother.  She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and said,

"Mom?"

I looked down at her sweet face as she continued,

"PUT ME DOWN!!!!"

Moment ruined.  

RUINED.

I put her sassy face back down and she ran out of the kitchen to play.  And that about sums up my experience of motherhood.  Tiny, fleeting moments of tenderness interrupted by crazy, frustrating, not tender at all real life.  And I'm so incredibly thankful for every single part of it.

Illegal picking

My 5 year old brought me a bouquet of questionably acquired flowers after school yesterday.  She said,
"Mom!  Smell these flowers!  They smell like butterfly milk!"

And I said, "Just what do you think you are doing?!  You should not be picking flowers when you have not yet finished milking the butterflies you lazy child!!"

Happy Tuesday, Bloggyland.

Boot Candy

My 8 yr old's announcement this morning:

"Today I'm having boot candy.  And yesterday I had boot candy.  That's where I stick candy in my boot so I can eat it whenever I want."

Mmmmm, that sounds delish.

Happy Friday.

Self Esteem

I can do anything good. Better than anyone. Yes I can.

Craaaaaaaap

Here is my sad little iPhone:

He probably has a terrible headache. And until I have glass shards in my ear, I will be true and keep using him. A bit of a bloody ear never hurt anybody.

Little Laugh

Question: What's the difference between roast beef and pea soup?

Answer: Anyone can roast beef.

Have a great Thursday!

Hairy

Quote of the day, courtesy of my 4 year old:

"This morning Dexter (our kitten) was licking me. So I just licked him back."

Of course you did, child. :)

Don't mask and dance at the same time.

This video starts out unbelievably frightening (which has nothing to do with the freaky clown mask, by the way). Ends up pretty darn funny. hahahaha. ::sigh of contentment::



Yup. Still funny.

Ode to Dr. Pepper (PART 2)

Thank you to Emily who showed me this amazing video. I need to marry this man.

Ode to Dr. Pepper

Top 10 Reasons I Want to be Mrs. Dr. Pepper:
10. My mom would love it if I married a doctor
9. He cheers me up on hard days
8. He never talks back to me
7. I've always had a thing for the brown ones
6. He makes a lot of money
5. Everyone knows him
4. Red looks good on me
3. He adds flavor to my life
2. He always hits the spot
1. I'm fairly certain that no one in the world loves him more than I do.

My favorite way to drink the heavenly nectar:
Ice cold can, poured into a cup of ice, with a straw. I swear this is the best way to drink Dr. Pepper. Honestly I think it tastes different from a bottle or a fountain. The stuff from the fountain just isn't as...potent...or something. Wish I was kidding right now. Totally not.

Go enjoy a Dr. Pepper in my honor everyone. Savor it, my friends. Savor it.

The Sandlot

Oh how I love this movie. I love this movie for, "Yeah yeah, he looks like a dead fish!" I love this movie for Wendy Peffercorn. I love this movie for "you're killin me smalls!" I love this movie for "FOR-EV-VER." I love this movie for finding it in the $5 bin at Target.

And I especially love this movie when my 2 year old turns it over, sees the above picture, and yells, "Grandma!!!"

Bump It

I saw this on TV the other day. I seriously laughed out loud. The girl with the black, ridiculously large ponytail is my favorite.

Who couldn't use a little hair volume? I have definitely placed my order...

Return of Q&A

At least for now. :)

I started getting a lot of really good questions, and then I promptly defaulted on the Q&A the last couple of weeks. Sorry.

I think that's my little way of revolting. I am a rule follower. Like to the point of detriment. Example: If the brownie box says to bake for 18-22 minutes, I put them in for exactly 20 so I can make sure I'm right in the middle. And if there are 20 seconds left on the timer, I will sit there and wait for the 20 seconds to be up and the timer to go off before I open the oven to check them.

Ridiculous. I know this.

Anyway, why am I talking about rules? Oh, because of my self imposed "Q&A Every Thursday" rule. The rule that I've been breaking.

I feel like such a rebel.

Anyway, at least for today, I'm back with the Q&A.

And with rhyming, apparently.

So, my closely related single friend sent this question to me. And I thought it was a good one. Except not a good one for me to answer. Because my name is Cynical Cindy these days. So I'm mostly putting this one out there for all of you. Here goes:

It seems like a lot of my friends are in this boat right now, and it might be interesting.

With all of the heartache and sadness that I seem to hear from all of my married friends, it makes me wonder if anyone is really as happily married as they thought they would be when they were dating/engaged. It also has me completely on my toes with dating – every little issue that comes up is automatically a red flag, and I find myself saying that it’s probably just the tip of the iceberg and will get way worse once we get married.

So I’ve been wondering a lot lately which is the right answer – do I hold out for someone and a relationship that is all happy-go-lucky and never has any issues, because there will surely be issues later? Or is that naïve? Maybe it’s best for me to suck it up, and realize no relationship is perfect, and our issues are normal? I feel like everyone that I say that to looks at me like I’m crazy though. I get the big DON’T DO IT talk from my family/friends because they see my relationship has problems.

I want to say that we are just much more aware of our problems than most dating couples, but will I kick myself years later for justifying those things? I’m not sure.

A: Like I said, I'm not sure I'm really the best person to answer this question. However, I can say that for me, I was happy in my marriage. At least at first. And those of you who know the full story know the details of that. But I have thought this myself lately. Are there really any truly HAPPY MARRIAGES? Are people really, genuinely happy 5, 10, 25 years later? I am jaded from my own experiences, and also from being in the therapy world, where I see couple after couple in dysfunction.

Do I believe it's possible to be happily married? Absolutely.

Do I think many achieve that? Eh.... (insert nonchalant shoulder shrug)

As for the red flags thing... PAY ATTENTION TO THOSE. But there is not going to really be any way to know for sure. The only way you can know is through the spirit. You might date someone for 2 weeks and get married and live happily ever after, or you might date someone for 10 years, and the second you get married things change and you're unhappy. There is just no guarantee. Which is why it's so terrifying.

And also why I plan on being an old, single Bag Lady. Alone, safe, and plenty of luggage.

And I would also suggest this (here come some therapy words for you): In looking at red flags, make sure you are looking at the PROCESS of your relationship. Instead of saying "we fight over whether to go out or stay home" say "how do we resolve those conflicts? Do we communicate well? Does he listen to me? Are we quick to admit when we're wrong?"

Because in a marriage, you cannot avoid the fact that you will have disagreements. And what the disagreement is about is pretty much not important. What is important is how you guys handle the disagreement. If you respect each other. If you are both willing to compromise. Pay attention to those kinds of things.

Everyone out there, please put in your 2 cents. I would love to hear from some of you who have happy marriages. GIVE US HOPE!! haha. Cynical Cindy is pretty powerful.

Okay, I've got to go organize my bags.

A Big, Fat F

I know my blog has gone from semi-interesting to totally lame lately. I am going to really try to post new things more often. Not only is it more fun for all of you out there in cyberland, but it is cathartic for me.

So, with the goal to actually blog in mind, I proceed with the following story:

I was on my lunch today, enjoying some tomato bisque and some Dr. Laura in my car. I've always had a love/hate relationship with her. I agree with most of her advice, but sometimes not with the delivery so much.

Anyway, she took a call from a mid-twenties female.

The girl said, "I want to know how to get over a divorce. I've been divorced for 1 year now, and I need to know how to get over it."

Naturally, my interest peaks.

Dr. L: Well, what do you need to get over?

Girl: I don't know...I feel like I've failed.

Dr. L: Well, you have.

**silence**

Dr. L: You have failed. You are divorced.

My stomach--knots. My heartbeat--elevated. I'm feeling the perfectionist/type A personality/ control freak part of me start to take over. And that part of me does not like to be called a failure.

But I am.

I am divorced. My marriage failed. Does it matter if it was my fault? Does it matter if it was his fault? Does it matter if it was my old boyfriend doing voodoo to sabatoge my relationship so he could fly in on a magic pony and take me to a land of dreams and sparkles? I really don't think so.

When you're filling out paperwork and have to mark one of the boxes (single, married, divorced), there is not a box that says, "divorced but it was totally not my fault." Mostly because chances are it probably was your fault. At least to some extent.

So I have got to accept the fact that I have failed. No matter what the details of it are. No matter how unfair it seems. No matter how badly I want to rent a billboard or wear a t-shirt around that says, "Divorced...but only because my ex is a loser." haha. (IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE: I do not think Ex is a loser.  I'm just trying to make a point.)

The gospel adds a dimension to this, though. Answers to prayer can be very powerful, and the peace you feel when you're making the right choice is undeniable. So from that perspective, I have not failed. I have followed through with the most difficult choice of my life because of an answer to prayer. And I have had countless experiences since then that confirm that this is the path I need to be on right now.

So no matter what that looks like to anyone else--even Dr. Laura--I can stand tall knowing that, though my marriage has failed, I am not a failure.

And one day I will be in a land of dreams and sparkles.

Magic pony and all.

Apples to Apples

You know how sometimes you'll be mindlessly eating an apple? And you're taking crunchy bites while you watch tv, or read, or clean the kitchen? And after a while you'll realize that you've been chewing the same chewy bite for a while, and you figure out that you forgot to take the little sticker off and you've been grinding it around in your teeth for like half an hour?

Yeah, that's pretty fun.

Or how about when it's 7 AM, and your kids are sleeping, and the house is quiet, and you're trying to figure out what to blog about today, and all of a sudden you hear your 4 year old screaming at the top of her lungs. Except she's not crying. She's yelling, "IF YOU HAVE A FROWNY FACE, DO NOT LET IT STAY! QUICKLY TURN IT UPSIDE AND SMILE THAT FROWN AWAY!!" And she's got the scratchy I just woke up voice going on, and you know she's just laying in bed, singing to her stuffed animals. Very loudly.

And it makes you smile from the inside.

Or how about when your sister gives you her facebook password so you can check out the profile of the new boy she's hanging out with? And you're really tempted to change her status to something like "I am a man," and send scandalous emails to all her ex boyfriends... But you figure that will result in you losing the Sister Password Privileges. Boo. Being mature can be so boring.


Or how about when you realize that all your friends who were pregnant at the same time as you when you had Baby #2 are all pregnant again? And a lot of them have actually already had another baby? And it makes you feel sort of sad that you're not even close to having another baby, and you wonder if you'll ever have that experience again?

And remember when blogging about that made you kind of sad? And made you feel like you were done blogging for the day? Word.

Cheeseburger Deluxe

My gut is protruding. I can feel it inching over my pants. Slowly. Surely.

Apparently my "lose a ton of weight while going through a divorce" phase is over.

Damn.

hahaha. I just said damn on my Have Joy blog. I'm not sure that's really allowed. Wait, I make the rules. I'm the boss. At least in Have Joy Land. And how do you even spell damn? Dam. Damb. Dammit. Damnit. Seriously. I really don't know. But I should probably stop.

So yeah. Lost a lot of weight in 2008. Hey, that rhymes. I think a big reason I lost a lot of weight was because I had recently birthed a human. Bear was only 5 months old when the "I'm filing for divorce" conversation was had. Wow. So little. So sucky. I'm divorced. Ugh.

Anyway, a lot of the weight I lost was baby weight. And a lot of the weight I lost was "i'm getting divorced and i have two kids and no job and no income and no family around and i'm devastated and scared and alone and stressed and i can't eat or sleep or really function at all" kind of weight. You know that kind, right? haha. Yeah...

Pretty sure I survived on cheeseburgers and Dr. Pepper that entire year. For every meal. Mmmm...mmmm.... salivating...

And now that life is settling down a little bit (ok, not really AT ALL compared to most of you, but really a lot compared to what 2008 was like for me), my body is starting to function normally again. Like, I get tired. I'm not sure I really got tired in 2008. Well, that's not super accurate. I'm not sure I ever wasn't tired in 2008. I was sort of a zombie, exhausted all the time, walking around with my eyes open but my brain nowhere to be found. So I never felt super tired because I never...wasn't... tired. That makes no sense. I'm leaving it.

I have so much to do. And I'm sitting here writing a dumb little paragraph about belly cheese. hahaha. And I don't mean the cellulite kind. I mean the fuzzy kind that grows in your navel. hahahaha. wow. this is getting weird. even for me. maybe i should stop.

i've been in a bit of a funk the last couple of days. not sure why. maybe i'm just smelling the belly cheese and it's making me woozy. woozie? whooooosy? haha. I have no idea.

Maybe it's because I'm sitting here chomping on pizza and chocolate milk, wishing i was watching dancing with the stars but knowing i have other stuff to do. I just felt my belly expand another centimeter.

dammnb.