I am near exhaustion but I only have one hour now.  One hour when the house is completely quiet- not a cry or a whine or a yell.  I am falling over, can’t keep my eyes open before I go to bed.  I must have the hour though, I’d do anything to stay awake, and that is why I am blogging.  Must stay awake…must stay awake.

I remember there was a time that this would be the start of my night.  We’d drink from  2 liter bottles of Mountain Dew and take caffeine pills to stay up all night, pre-21 days.   We’d be these annoying little hyped up sugar bitches- but it was fun.

I remember when I stopped doing the caffeine pill thing.  We were going over our weekend in the lunch line and a girl who was listening in told us about Jessie Spanos addiction to caffeine pills, I laughed at first.  But then I saw the episode and I freaked.

I was every SAD, MADD, DADD, FADD’s dream, I bought all the chasing dragon, egg frying pan, bad teeth, homeless, alone, eating my boogers, they sold.   It didn’t take much to keep me off drugs.

I learned to say “NO” from Zack Morris and the gang.  Yes, I am pathetic.

Pulling from the archives.  One cool blogger and friend is having a fun giveaway and this is my entry.  Go check out Toddler Craft for more great and easy crafts for kids!

Making these cute turtle is sure to please the kiddos on a rainy day. The supplies you will need are~

*Mini pie tins

*Paint

*Glue

*Construction Paper

*Scissors

*Googly eyes

*Sequins

~Have the kids paint the outside of a small pie tin, and let dry.

~As the paint is drying have kids trace mom or dad’s thumb for the turtle’s legs, cut out.

~Then trace a kitchen spoon for the head and cut out.

~Add two googly eyes to the turtles head.

~Free form the tail in a large tear drop, and cut out.

~After the paint on the pie tins, “Turtle shells,” are dry, glue on the head, feet and tail. A tip glue head, tail and feet with the shell facing up then add a little weight to the top of the shell till glue dries.

~ Add sequins to the top of your turtles shell.

Let the glue dry and now your little turtle is done.

A cute variation for older kids would be to use a waterproof paint to paint the turtles. Use craft foam sheets instead of construction paper for the head arms and tail. Follow instructions above, but this little turtle can be placed in your garden!

I am just rambling today about reading and other stuff on my mind…

Summer is shaping up okay.  It would be better if Lil’ Dad’s idea of fun is laughing and encouraging Lil’ Boy and Lil’ Girl to say words such as “fart,” “poop,” “diarrhea” and others I am too embarrassed to say.  I understand the need to make your child laugh until they are beet red and can’t breathe, but he doesn’t have to take them into Tar-jay and have other mother’s flip him the mental middle finger when their children laugh at his children and their dirty mouths.

I guess it doesn’t help that their favorite books are the “Captain Underpants” series, which has a lot of those same words in it.  Lil’ Boy was struggling with not liking reading and I thought those books would help him find joy in reading.  Well it worked, but now I have two kids wearing their underpants and blanket capes and saying “doggie do-do” all day.

I am keeping up with most of our planned activities.  Last week we didn’t go to the zoo because of the heat, the kids wanted to swim in the neighbors just put up pool and our own kiddie pool.  I didn’t mind, I finished two great book and kept my sanity.

I have juggled some things to make it a bit easier and less stressful.  I realized the chapter books are out- we are still working on our first week book.  The kids rather read the books that they picked out, which is fine with me.  They are gearing up to finish their first reading booklet from the library and moving onto the bonus reading booklet.  Me so proud!

Chocolate week was insane, in a great way though.  The kids loved all the sugar.  I loved the rose chocolate truffle that I got at the fancy chocolate shop.  Lil’ Boy And Lil’ Girl loved their chocolate frogs.  We also went to our local garden and they had a cocoa tree-which wasn’t even on the list of planned activities!

I have been reading up a storm.  In fact you might not see me for a couple days, I just started a book by Jodi Piocult-which you get sucked in ridiculous.  I use to read Jodi’s books like crazy, they are quick easy reads that keep you captivated.  I think I have read all her earlier books, I am just now catching up on her newer ones.

I am following Jodi and other authors on Twitter.  Part of me wants to grill the authors as I am reading their books, but then I feel like a total nerdy groupie.  I know I could be following people like @asphuck or @asphucks wife, but really I could give two poops what they’re doing.  Plus I feel like a little smarter for only following people who write.

There is a lot of new great authors and books I am discovering on Twitter, check out @julieklam and her book “Please Excuse My Daughter” and @joannerendell and her book “The Professors’ Wifes’ Club.”

Today on Twitter someone was asking for donations for some kinda something for something.  “$10 that is all” or something to that nature.  I thought “$10 that is a carton of milk, a loaf of bread and a stick of butter,” and a box of microwave popcorn for Lil’ Boy’s all popcorn diet.  That is how bad the economy is on our house, when I calculate $10 and what it means to my family.  I’d love to be at a point when I can give $10 or even $5 and not worry.  I love to fill donation bins and give back, but it is harder and harder to do.   I feel worse in two fold.  One because I have no money and two I can’t help those who are worse off.

That’s it for now.  Hey if I don’t see you have a great 4th of July.

THREE!

She’s THREE today.

I could blog a million and THREE things about her.

But I won’t, because I want to experience this once in a lifetime day with her.  My three year old!

Happy Birthday to my Lil’ Meg-a-beg-a-boo.

Was yesterday a weird day or what?  I wasn’t moonwalking or singing Bad or releasing white doves or wearing a white glove while grabbing my crotch.  No, I was mostly reflecting on his life  because in one small moment I felt old.  I mean really old.  Mostly because I heard he was 50!  50!  That to me was weirder then his death.

As the people I remember from my youth, from those days when all that seem to matter was if I should play with my Cabbage Patch Kid or my Strawberry Shortcake, start to die I feel old.   Days like this, when I feel old, I say to Lil’ Girl “What should we play with today Cabbage Patch or Strawberry Shortcake?”

I have been writing a whole heck of a lot lately.  You don’t see it all here, I don’t want to bring you down.  I usually write the sad pathetic stuff get it out of my system, then I can be funny.  I can please you.  See, I never learn.

Mostly my not seen writing is sad and pathetic cause I am working through some shit that needs to be worked through to get all this anxiety crap taken care of.  I want to feel good.  I am starting to feel better.  I am working on me.

I had a great “therapy” session with my dad.  On my patio, rocking in the hot sun I asked questions.  Many questions.  It felt good to ask, you need to ask sometimes. It starts the healing.  I like healing.  You know what?  Healing kind of rocks.

So now I am off to do soak up the sun-some Vitamin D healing.  Enjoy your day!

I don’t use my maiden name.  When I married it was gone.  I wasn’t that much of a feminist.  I will not tell you what it is.  Not because of the privacy thing.  I figure if you really want to know it, if you are that curious, it isn’t hard to find out, just look on Facebook. I will not tell because anytime I say my maiden name in public this little fear runs through me.

I imagine the OK-Corral.  Some ugly looking, mustache, gun totting cowboy snarls at me, eyes bulging. “What did you say your name was partner?”

That fear that someone in my family “wronged somebody.”  Not that we are evil people.  No, we are people with an hardy appetite for devil’s nectar and the big mouths to drink that sweet, sweet juice from. Fun-loving no hold back kind of people

This is made clear by the recent visit from my dad.  No-holds-barred-big-mouth-kinda guy.  He says what he means and he means what he says.  He cusses and swears like a sailor on leave.  With two days to live.  It is gets him in trouble.  Lil’ Boy even said “Grandpa “S” you have a dirty mouth.”

My dad laughs.  It is a habit that will never be broken. He is set in his ways. He is his name.

Honestly, sometimes I miss my given name.  There was a distinction.  If you said my name people knew who I was.  My maiden name is different.  You probably don’t know anyone with this last name.  And if you do we are probably related-in a hillbilly sister, cousin, brother, grandma kind-of way.

I love my name now.  It is enough to keep people from saying “Huh? What did you say!”  I can live a secret life in the shadow like the Smith’s, Johnson and White’s of the world.  My name isn’t misspelled.  And best of all it is the name I share with the Lil’ Ones….I think I’ll keep it!

As hard as it is for me to take a compliment, it is 100 times that to take criticism.  A negative to who I am as a person or to what I do is soul crushing and terrifying.  So I become what most people, who have a fear of criticism become, a people pleaser.  If people are pleased with you enough that can’t criticize you, right?  I like to think this is true, but it is not.

It is not hard to see why I have a fear of the negative.  Of course I am scared of abandonment.  If someone doesn’t like what you do or how you do things, the fear sets in- they will leave you.  You can convince me this is not true, but to me the fear is there. The anxiety takes over, and there is no going back.

I have had so many people come to me in the most positive of ways, come to me to help me.  I have back-lashed and gave them the mental finger.  “Did I ask for your help?”  Deep down I know they come out of love, but the instant feeling of me as a failure makes me retreat into a puddle of self-pity.

I know I am not perfect.  I know there is always room for improvement.  I grew up with the motto “good, better, best…”  but I don’t want to fail.  I want people to be happy with me.  I want to please people.  And if I am not pleasing, it ruins the illusion of me.

Finding a cure is hard.  Is people-pleasing my addiction?  It could be.  The first step in curing your addictions is always acceptance.

My name is Susan and I am a people-pleaser.

I live in the great state of Wisconsin.  There is a joke about our two seasons.  Winter and construction.  I like to say our two seasons are fricken miserable cold and fricken miserable humid.  Sure we have a few nice days, enough to keep us from running away to another state.

Today is humid and warm, with nothing to really do except set up the swimming pool.  And so I do.  Right now the pool is filling up with water so that when it is time to swim my children will have the perfect temperature water.  Not too cold, just perfect.

As I am filling the pool I have to do everything in my power to convince the kids not to jump in.  We have errands to run, and stuff to do.  I realize this rates high on the mommy cruelty level, it’s like holding up a candy bar on a stick and running as the children chase you-You know what?  That isn’t a bad idea!

I know soon they will be splashing and having fun.  I will be reading with my feet up, and probably yelling at them to not go inside all dripping wet! Such is summer life.

Well it is officially summer.  ENJOY!

I have the joy of having a guest, a little guest.  A little neighbor guest.  She comes over and the kids are entertained.  This means I am not their source of all thing entertainment.  I don’t have to think for them or read to them or find ways to keep them from being bored.  The tap dancing can stop and all I can think of to do is blog.  That is what I do with my free minutes I sit and write.

When I went to the doctor this past week he asked if I was seeing a therapist, I said “no I write.”  I write better then I talk.  I can really say what I mean.  The connection between my brain and my fingers is better then the connection between my brain and my mouth.  It is easier to write about the things that are ailing me, begging me and stewing in my mind.  I just works better that way.

Today what is bugging me is my frustration level.  It is on high.  I can’t shake the tension, everything sets me off.  My skin is thin.  Paper thin.  Kids whining, yelling is enough to send me to the moon.  I hate that I yell.  It is like fighting fire with fire.  How can I expect my kids to stay calm when I can’t ?

I have tried the breathing thing, but I can’t seem to count to ten before something else happens.  I can make it to three.  Maybe I am aiming to high?

What do you do to calm the storms of frustration?