What I Thought I Knew

So it turns out that there are certain things about myself that I assumed were true. I have believed these things most, if not all, my adult life. To quote a good friend of mine, Dwight K. Schrute: "Nothing rhymes with orange. False. Orange and nothing do not rhyme." OK, Dwight isn't really a friend of mine. And really the only thing I'm actually quoting him on is the "false" part. But it is my belief that Dwight is a funny guy who should be quoted more often. At any rate, I have come lately to realize some things about myself that are simply not what I thought. Much like the epiphany I had a few years ago that I am actually a bundle of high-strung neuroses rather than the chill, calm person I once thought I was, I have come to other enlightening self-discoveries over the past few months.{This is not to be confused with the time several years ago that my husband told me that one of my greatest flaws was: "Sometimes you think you're funny. But you're not." Because I am still convinced that I am always funny. I don't care what he says.}

Misconception #1: I Am Flexible
I have typically thought of myself as spontaneous. A gal who doesn't mind change. A fun-loving kind of person who welcomes things that are new and different. NOPE! I don't. In fact, I hate them, these new and different things. I hate that when I finally start to get into any sort of rhythm, in walks something unfamiliar and strange and usually difficult. I hate it. I am starting to understand that there really is no such thing as normal. And I am displeased. I thought I was okay with change. That I was up for it. That I could face transition with grace and good-humor. I'm not. And I can't. I am neither dignified nor amused. Last year brought more changes to my status-quo than I can handle with any sense of decorum. I am a mess.

Yes, I have read Who Moved My Cheese? It was dumb. And whoever moved it should just put it back where they found it. My Ritz crackers are getting lonely and they don't taste good by themselves.

Misconception #2: I Like a Challenge
Moving to a different state? What a fun adventure! Being a mom? Fantastic! Starting a {million}new job{s}? Exciting! Learning new skills? Invigorating! Going back to school? Awesome! Oh Cyndie. You sad, silly fool. Remember when you were all smug {and exhausted} and so proud of yourself {and relieved} to be done with your first full-time semester at USU? And you thought, "Hey! I can do this!" And you actually thought you could. And then you started your second semester. And you realized you might absolutely die this time. Because it turns out that your first semester was actually a cakewalk compared to what you have to deal with this semester. And probably any and all future semesters. And then you wanted to cry. Literally. Every second of every day.

This is not to say that I haven't faced formidable obstacles in the past. And survived them. I have and I did. But maybe there's a limit. Maybe there are only so many difficult things you can get through alive. If there is, I think I have hit that limit. Truly. I no longer have faith in my ability to rise to the challenge. I just want to eat Crunchy Cheddar Jalapeno Cheetos and watch Netflix. I don't want a college degree anymore. I changed my mind. I am old and tired. Figuring out what to wear and what to make for dinner every day is challenge enough.

Misconception #3: I Like to Learn New Things
I am a naturally curious person. I like to know how things work. I like to see what makes them tick. I like figuring things out for myself rather than being told how to do them or having someone else do them for me. I simply assumed that this meant that I liked to learn new things. A new job should be fun. School should be fascinating. WRONG. As it turns out, I hate learning new things. New things are stupid. I know enough. I don't want to know any more things. Especially anything that has the word "statistics" in it. Especially that.

Additionally, I also thought I was more clever, brave, and resilient than I am. I am none of these things. I am scared and overwhelmed and a big fat baby. I just hope it never turns out that I'm really not as funny as I think I am. Or there's really going to be trouble.

The Top 5 Annoying Trends of 2014

It's no secret. 2014 was not my favorite year. I am wondering if I just don't have good luck with even-numbered years. Because I distinctly remember 2008 and 2010 being crappy years as well. And 1974? Well, if I recall correctly, I spent the entire year crying. And not being able to even walk or feed myself. Terrible year, that one. So if the even-year theory works out for me I should be set for this year. But hold that thought...no, wait...2009 sucked too. And 2003. Crap. But 2015? Doesn't it just have a nice ring to it? Well, maybe years with a 5 at the end will be good ones for me. I mean, 1985 was the year that Better Off Dead, Weird Science AND Ladyhawke came out, so obviously an awesome year. (Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and The Black Cauldron came out that year, too. So not a PERFECT year, but a good one at least.) My beautiful oldest was born in 1995. I don't remember anything wonderful happening in 2005, but it's also not associated with anything particularly terrible for me either, so I'm just going to assume it was a good one. Granted, that means that I will only have a good year once every 5 years, and that sounds kinda depressing. But, what do I know? Maybe the next 10 will be spectacular. Even if there are no more Lord of the Rings movies coming out. Ever again. BUT, to be fair, there will also be no more Twilight movies. It's all about the trade offs.

With no desire whatsoever to rehash the trials of the year, what I would like to do is mention the things that annoyed me most throughout 2014. Because, if you're already having a difficult time of things, who the heck wants to be annoyed on top of it?? Not me, that's for sure. The year that I almost completely lose it should NOT be the same year that a congressional panel convenes to interrogate Dr. Oz about diet supplements. It just shouldn't.

So, in no particular order because I am equally annoyed by all of them, I present:

The 5 Trends That Annoyed Me Most in 2014

#1. Overalls on Grown-Ups
This was a tough one for me. Simply because I am annoyed by so many fashion trends right now. I lived through both the 80's and the 90's once already. The clothes were awful then. They are awful now. And worst of all, I don't know how to wear most of  them. Ponte and palazzo pants? What do you wear those with?? I haven't tucked a shirt in since 1996. I don't even remember how to do it. I've heard it is actually fashionable right now to tuck your shirt just in the front and leave the rest untucked. So people think you were running late or in a hurry to leave the bathroom? I'm so confused. And the returning fashions from Season 1 of Friends? Why? Just why? Crop tops? High waisted jeans? Baggy sweaters and leggings? Really?!? Two words: Un. Flattering. And then there are boys in girls jeans. I don't get it. I can't even tell the Men's & Women's sections apart at some department stores. Completely see-through shirts? What?? Why? I don't want to wear two shirts. And the alternative? Not pretty. But overalls on adults? Well, I've thought long and hard and decided that those are simply the worst. Overalls should not be worn by any adults who aren't farmers. Ever. The only advantage they might have over regular jeans is that giant pocket in the front. But that's only an advantage until you go to the bathroom. Then it just becomes a hazard. And a mess. I don't get it. I never will. I wish they would go away forever. And never come back.

#2. The ALS Ice-Bucket Challenge
I am fairly certain that this has finally petered out of existence. And yes, it is nice to donate to a cause. And to be aware of diseases that affect various people. But can't you just do it because you want to? Why ya gotta dump a bucket of cold water on your head? For literally MONTHS out of the past year my social media sites were inundated with people pouring cold water on their heads. And nominating others to do the same. 4-year olds. 12-year-olds. 25-year olds. 50-year olds. In some places in the world people actually died doing some crazy extreme versions of the Ice Bucket Challenge (I know. Don't get me started.) I just don't get it. My 13-year old says it's because I'm lame. She's probably right. It just seems like it was mostly a way for celebrities to show off their gorgeous houses & yards and to name drop. "I nominate my BFF Beyonce and ALL of the Beatles...wait, what do you mean half of them are dead? When did THAT happen? I didn't get a tweet!" And for teenage girls to film themselves in wet t-shirts without their parents getting mad. And it makes me wonder what will be next? Coke Drinking Contest for Caffeine-Induced Anxiety Disorder Awareness? How about a Balloon Popping Contest to raise money for Globophobia research? There's just no telling what will show up in your news feed next. If you think of it first maybe you'll be famous like the guy who started the Ice-Bucket Challenge. You know, that one guy...what's his name?

#3. The Bacon Obsession
Bacon is good. Bacon is very good. On things like cheeseburgers. Or BLTs. Or potato soup. Or a plate with pancakes and eggs on it. Or...nope, that's it. Things that bacon is not good on/in? Donuts. Candy. Cookies. Air Freshener. Lip Balm. Toothpaste. Not. Good. So let's refresh. (No, not with bacon breath mints.) Bacon: Good. An As-Seen-On-TV Perfect Bacon Bowl so you can eat whatever you want out of a bowl made of bacon: Unnecessary. Bacon Soda: Downright disgusting.

#4. Keep Calm and...
Stop it. Just stop. The memes. The shirts. The mugs. The hats. The posters. Stop it. All of it. Keep Calm and Bake On. Keep Calm and Study On. Keep Calm and Eat a Cupcake. Keep Calm and Drink Tea. Keep Calm and Call a Realtor. It's like the worst thing since Got Milk. Except at least that was a question. Keep Calm is a command. Don't tell me what to do. Keep calm?? How? How am I supposed to keep calm when you WON'T STOP TELLING ME TO KEEP CALM?!??!! I won't do it. I won't keep calm. I won't carry on. You can't make me.

#5. Which _______ Are You?
A quiz shared on Facebook every now and then? Ok, fine. It's fun. It's harmless. It takes only a couple minutes of your time. But it got a little out of control in 2014. Star Wars Character. Color. Past-Life Persona. Alright. Fun. Harmless. Mildly interesting. Once. But, which state would you live in while you were which character from the Hunger Games who hooked up with which Walking Dead character while watching which incarnation of The Doctor while playing with which classic 80's toy while making dinner with which Jennifer Lawrence character?? It's too much. Nobody needs to be defined that much. And I don't care what they say. Nobody's life is like any Disney movie. Unless someone climbs up your hair, carved you out of wood, or your dad was trampled by wildebeasts. I know it may feel Cinderella-like to have to clean and cook constantly, but if no woodland creatures are sewing your clothes while you clean... Well, I hate to break it to you, but don't wait up for that Fairy Godmother. You probably won't be attending any balls anytime soon.

There they are. The 5 trends that annoyed me the most in 2014. I'm sure many more things annoyed me throughout the year, but they were probably people posting videos of their pets. (This man gives his cat a Perfect Bacon Bowl to play with and you won't believe what happens next!!) And my children. And you don't want to hear about that.

Happy New Year!

The Message of the Innkeeper

I am not going to lie. I have struggled immensely this year with finding that ever-elusive Christmas spirit. It is true, 2014 has been a year that has chewed me up and spit me back out. But so have other years. I am poor this year. But I have been poor other years. I am exhausted this year. But I have had two children born in November, so I know I have been exhausted other years. The challenges I have faced this year have been unique. But I have faced challenges in other years. I am not sure what it is with this year, in particular, that has made it so hard for me to feel the Christmas spirit. But it has evaded me completely.

None of the things that typically bring me joy at Christmastime have been able to work their magic on me this year. Not the Christmas music that I usually enjoy so much. Not the smile of pure wonder that my 4-year old had when we first lit up the decorated Christmas tree. Not my ever-growing army of stoic, festive nutcrackers. Not the bright and twinkling lights on the houses around town. Not hot chocolate. Not eggnog. Not the glowing garlands and snowflakes arched over Main Street. Not the pleasure of choosing just the right gift for each of my children that I know they will love. Not even watching my favorite Christmas movies (Although, did I still laugh during Elf? Is there sugar in syrup?? Then yes!) I have truly been this grotesque hybrid of the Grinch, Ebeneezer Scrooge, and Mommy Dearest. It has not been pretty, let me tell you.

I had all but given up and just written this year off as The Year Where My Heart Was THREE Sizes Too Small.

Then, the Sunday before Christmas rolled around, and with just the right sprinkling of "I hate Sundays!" (4 year-old) a dash of "I don't want to wear this STUPID dress!" (10 year-old) and a pinch of "NO! You can't touch my hair!!" (13 year-old) we were on our way to church. I sat smashed between kids and books and snacks and toys on the bench willing myself to somehow concentrate on the true meaning of Christmas and try to find even an ounce of gladness and gratitude in my heart. It didn't happen. The speakers were good. The Christmas hymns beautiful. But I still just wasn't feeling it. It was crowded. I was tired. I just wanted Christmas to hurry up and come so it could hurry up and be over. Then about halfway through the meeting, my 13 year-old leaned over to me and puzzled, "Why don't we know the innkeepers name?" I answered her, "Because he wasn't really that important to the story." She said simply, "Yes he was. He is the one that made room for them."

Oh. My eyes filled with tears as I sat and thought about what she had said. I wasn't the Grinch. I wasn't Scrooge. I wasn't even Mommy Dearest (ok, maybe a little bit Mommy Dearest.) I was the innkeeper. And not the one that had made room. One of the countless ones that had turned the weary travelers away. My inn was full. It was so full of sadness and anxiety and fear and hopelessness and self-doubt that I had not bothered to make room. There was no place in my heart for the Christmas Spirit. Because I had not made room. And that room that the innkeeper made for them, that space in a stable? Was it worthy of them and the child they were bearing? No. Not even close. But they stayed there anyway because he had made a place for them.

It was indeed only a short 4 days before Christmas, not a lot of time left to bask in the glow of the spirit of the season, but you'd better believe I have spent these last few days basking. And glowing. And kicking myself for not doing it sooner.

And remembering that as the travel-worn, distressed Joseph and the pregnant, exhausted Mary went patiently from door to door to door bearing with them the one Gift that was more precious than anything else in the world, they didn't force their way in. They didn't cry and plead and beg until someone opened their door to them.

They waited, until someone made room.

Life Lessons From Thumper

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all." -Thumper (and mothers everywhere)

"Do unto others as you would have done unto you." -Pretty Much Every Religion

"Opinions are like armpits, everyone has one and most of them stink." -Someone Smart

There is a church song I learned as a child that is titled Kindness Begins With Me. Actually kindness begins with K. And, unfortunately, unkindness begins with U. But that's besides the point. The point? The point is that it's not that hard to be kind. It really isn't. I mean, sure it's also easy to be mean. (I should know. Just ask my children.) But it doesn't take TOO much extra effort to just be a little bit kind.

The thing is that everyone has opinions. And I would know. I have an opinion on almost everything. Maybe even everything. (And if you have read my blog for more than a week, or seen any of my Facebook posts, I guess you would already know that.) However, almost all these opinions should be kept to oneself. Especially when they are likely to offend. Unless one is asked one's opinion, in which case one should tread very carefully when answering. (Husbands everywhere know exactly what I mean.)

I promise I'm not preaching. This advice is for me as much as for anyone. I am an extremely opinionated person. I have opinions on things I really have no business even having an opinion on. Like when and where flip flops should be worn. (Spring. And Summer.) And whether or not certain things like socks should be worn with open-toed footwear. (NO!) And how toilet paper should be placed on the roll. (Over. Always over. And if I use the bathroom at your house and it's under, I will change it.) I really do genuinely try to not share my opinions, though, if I think they might offend someone. Except with those very few people who I hope know me well enough to know that I am just mouthy, but my heart is in the right place. (So, I apologize to those of you who wear flip flops in the winter, or socks with sandals. I meant no offense. Those of you who put your toilet paper wrong, though, just fix it would ya? Geez!)

I don't know if the semi-anonymity of the internet age contributes to people thinking that everyone wants to know their every thought on every issue. Or if people have always been rude and opinionated and now we just have a faster and easier way of finding that out. I don't know. What I do know is that everyone seems to have an opinion on Every. Thing. And they will not hesitate to let you know what it is. Particularly when it comes to how you are raising your children. When and where and how you give birth. How many kids you should have. How old you should be when you have your kids. How the kind of food you feed your children may ruin them for life. Whether or not breast is best. (BreastFEEDING, you perv.) Whether or not certain Christmas traditions mean that you're raising your child to live in fear for the rest of their life. How much TV they should watch. Vaccinations. Naps. Bedtimes. The list goes on and on.

And these opinions are not just limited to the internet. I should know. After dealing with our 3 younger (translation: needy and sometimes insane) children alone because my husband has been out of town for almost a month, I went to lunch with a friend today. With my tired, ornery, willful, loud 4-year old. Not really my first choice, but I have working-and-going-to-school mom's guilt over not spending enough time with him and he wanted to come. What could possibly go wrong? Today? Everything. I won't rehash all lunchtime shenanigans, but suffice it to say that I did not enjoy my lunch. And at one point had to drag (unusually strong) said 4-year old out of the restaurant so as not to disturb everyone else who still had a chance of enjoying their lunch. It was pretty bad. And then he semi-calmed down. I shoveled down my now-cold lunch and was ready to hightail it out of there. Then he decided to stand up in the booth to see the top of the blinds. Probably the least obnoxious thing he had done all day. Some grouchy grandma in the booth next to us (who had just gotten there and hadn't even been witness to the previous insanity) snapped at him to sit down. And then proceeded to tell her friend about what a crappy mom I am. Like I don't already know. Duh! I have a 13 and 10 daughter. They tell me ALL the time.

It's not the first time a stranger has questioned my parenting. It won't be the last. I can typically handle it with some grace. Usually it rolls right off me like water off a table after your kid has filled his chocolate milk lid with it to bathe his miniature Batman in. Usually. Today was just one of those days, though. Those end-of-my-rope kind of days. It's really just been like that all week for me. I wasn't really in the mood to hear someone's opinion on my crappy parenting. Really. Not. But I did anyway. Because people apparently can't keep their opinions to themselves. I mean, she could've just waited until I was out of earshot at least. Meanie. It ruined the whole rest of my day. Literally.

Rant over.
I'm making it my New Years Resolution to have less opinions. Truly.
The moral of the story is this: Just be kind. Really. Online. In person. Wherever. Whenever. You don't want to be responsible for ruining someone's day.
Also: If you are mean to me (or in general) I may blog about you. Just ask Jody.

On Being 40

Well, it's been almost a year of being 40. Not quite a full year, but with a February birthday, it feels like I've been 40 all year. I was not ok with turning 40. Truth be told, I'm still really not ok with it. But it didn't ask. It just came anyway. Like in-laws or children into the bathroom or the uncontrollable urge to pee when you jump. Or run. Or walk. Or stand up. It just came. Mean 40. You know how when you're young, you hear adults say things like, "I just don't FEEL old." And you're like, "Whatever dude. You are so freaking old." Well, guess what? Now that's me. It's a mean trick, this aging. You know it's coming. But you don't actually believe it until BAM! It hits you. Like in-laws or children into the bathroom or the uncontrollable urge to pee when you jump. Or run. Or walk. You get the picture. So. Cruel.

Well, I decided to take this time at the end of the year to reminisce about things I've realized this {almost} year of being 40.

#1. 40 is Too Old To Live On Student Loans
It is one thing to have to use student loans for living expenses when you are in your 20's. I mean, realistically your bills at that point are like $30 a month for car insurance, $18 utilities after splitting it 7 ways with all your roomates, and Hot Pockets and Cup O' Noodles for food. You might even could get you some sweet new furniture from the Goodwill at the beginning of the semester. Maybe you have one kid in diapers or rent on a 2-bedroom apartment or something, but typically your cost of living is fairly low. And you have years & years ahead of you to pay it all back. 
But 20 years, 4 kids, and a mortgage payment later. Well, if you can't afford your living expenses by then, you're pretty much screwed. I totally am. It's been one of the worst years for us financially in a long, long time. I had no intention of taking out any more student loans at this point, but life had a different plan for me. Now I'm accumulating debt I may not even live to pay off. And at a time when I should be putting money into a retirement account or at least a down payment on a burial plot....

#2. My Untimely Death Will Be Less Tragic
I never said I wasn't morbid. All year what's been running through my mind is that if {heaven forbid} I were to die in a freak snowplow accident or my flat iron fell into the bathtub while I was trying to relax amidst Spiderman and a Ninja Turle loofah or if my car were to explode while I was pumping gas because I stubbornly refuse to obey the signs that say not to get back in your car while you are pumping gas, the headline will no longer read, "Young Mother of 4 Dies in Terrible Accident." Because I'm not a young mother any more. Still a mother, just not a young one. Thus my death will seem far less unfortunate.
And teenagers will think, Oh she was 40? Eh, isn't that about when people usually die?
It's sick, I know. But that's the way my mind works.

#3. Having To Explain Myself When I Shop
Walking into an Aeropostale or Forever 21 or Rue 21 or any other such legal drinking-age numbered establishment makes me feel incredibly self-conscious now. I feel like I have no business being there at all. And I owe the hot young body-pierced employees an explanation for even setting foot in their shrine of sparkly glitter perfume, body chains, loud clothes and louder music. I am fairly certain there is more than a hint of sarcasm and sometimes even a not-so-discrete eyeroll when they ask if they can help me with anything. To which I always respond that I am shopping for my daughter. Which I usually am. Because not even the dark lights at Hollister can hide the fact that I am much too old to be shopping there for myself. {Just don't tell anyone that my new favorite lounge pants are the joggers I just bought. Cuz I told them all they were for my daughter.}

#4. I'm Never Getting My Body Back...Or a Tummy Tuck
With the exception of a few months of ..ahem...summer vacation, I have worked my tail off at the gym this year. {Figuratively speaking. Very figuratively.} Because I was turning 40. And going on a cruise. And I was convinced that with a little hard work I could reclaim my body from the super-villain duo of childbearing and time. Nope. It's never going to happen. Ever. Dream: Shattered.
And it used to be that if I wanted to drop a few pounds, I'd just switch to diet soda and eat nothing but Whopper Jrs, Chex Mix, baby carrots and the occasional Rice Crispy Treat for a week. That is a young girl's weight loss plan, my friend. Now it takes me 3 weeks of non-stop exercising and eating nothing but...nothing just to shed the pounds I gained over the weekend. True story.
And knowing years ago that my body would never look the same after having children reside in it, I told my husband, "I will be sick for months straight, go through long & painful labor, and let your babies ravage my body, but I get a tummy tuck when I'm done." He said ok and we struck a deal.
Ain't happening. {See #1} Not even Sallie Mae is going to give me enough money for that.

#5. I'm Even Too Old for Old Men to Hit On
Let's be honest, with very few {super rare and/or super creepy} exceptions, even men well over the age of 40 like women younger than 40. Not that I'm in the market or anything. And even in my younger years, I was never the kind of girl who had all eyes on her when she walked into a room. But I like to think I turned a FEW heads back in the day. Not anymore. Not even the necks ridden with arthritis crane in my direction. No flattering words. No cat calls. {Unless I'm with my beautiful young daughter, and I will hurt somebody over that.} It's enough to make a girl want to walk past a construction site. From WAY across the street. Just to see.

So there you have it. 5 things about being 40 that I have pondered on this year. I mean, I can always say that I'm really just 22 with 18 years of experience. But who am I fooling? Not the workers peddling sequin stilettos at Forever Young Shoes, that's for sure. And let's face it, nobody is young or 21 forever. I don't care what you name your store.