Oh, the quirkiness of me?

A month ago Veronica Mitchell tagged me for a meme where I am required to list 6 quirky traits about myself. At the time I declared myself dreadfully dull and claimed the need for time to think. I admit now that this may have been a ploy to save this meme for a rainy writing day. However, it turned out to be the honest-to-boring truth. In this past month, as I have attempted to start this post several times, I have come up blank. Faults? Oh, I have those in droves. But quirks?

Nada. Zip.

And I was distraught! How will my family ever miss me when I am gone if I am devoid of charming oddities? For, as anyone who has ever who has ever seen a sappy movie knows, it is not one's faithful love or devotion that their family misses but their idiosyncrasies. I have never heard a character bemoaning the loss of the mother who cooked them dinner every night for the last 30 years. No. It's always some random thing like, "She would always tap dance while she was dusting" or "She could never pass an animal on the side of the road without stopping" or "She always read the last page of a book first."

So, in absolute desperation to leave a legacy of annoying habits for my own children to miss after I have gone on, I have compiled the following list of almost-quirky traits.

1. I am a compulsive eavesdropper. I find myself compelled, in public places, to listen to conversations taking place around me. I simply cannot help myself. This can occasionally cause a problem. For example, I would not suggest interrupting a heartfelt conversation with your girlfriend to exclaim, "That woman sitting behind me just had a nose job! Can you see her? Can you tell?"

2. I really, really love this song.

And I sing it all the time. Almost every day in fact. Sometimes sweetly to my children. Sometimes loudly and obnoxiously when they display their irritation with my parenting a bit too overtly. There is nothing like an off key chorus of "Love you forever and forever. Love you with all my heart" to encourage someone to not find you annoying anymore. You should try it. It helps.

3. I have a fetish for cereal. I will eat it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, midnight snack, you name it. And I like all kinds. From Lucky Charms to Fiber One, I don't discriminate. Jerry Seinfeld has nothing on me.

4. I detest background noise. I think this may be related to quirk #1, as I am just incapable of tuning it out. I can't stand to have the television or radio on unless I am specifically watching something. I have never been someone that can read while my husband watches television or fall asleep while the radio is on. It's not that I detest noise specifically, just noise unrelated to what I am doing. It's a losing battle for someone who chose to have four children. I am constantly walking around turning things off. I seem to be on perpetually hopeless quest for silence.

5. I tap dance while I'm dusting. Oy. I am really having to dig deep here. I read in the bathtub, which tends to make my books somewhat, um...wilted. I had to stop doing this with my Bible as it was becoming embaressing to pull out this warped crispy mess at my bible studies. This habit, among with some other issues we won't mention, resulted in a nasty parting of ways with my local public library. I am still mourning the breakup.

6. We have an area rug in the center of our living room. There used to be a coffee table on it but one of the older kids broke it and we were so broke the Weekids enjoyed the open space so much that we decided not to replace it until they were older. So now we just have a big empty rug, which is great. Whenever a snappy tune comes on the television, (and snappy tunes come around more often than one would think) I drag the kids onto the rug to join me in what Ben calls "the jumping dance." It's the Chaotic family mosh pit. The Weekids love it. The older two used to love it.

And someday they will again. When I am dead and gone the mosh pit thing is the only annoying endearing quirk I have left them with to regale their own children.

And now for the tagging...

I tag Slouching Mom! Oh I kid. Just wanted to see if your head would explode, Slouchy. (Poor dear has been tagged for 48 different facts so far and she's such a sweetie she just keeps spitting them out. And they are all interesting too. Amazing.)

Seriously though...
I tag Chrissy because she was adorably funny and quirky in high school and I would love to know she still is. Becky because she just started blogging and anyone with a masters degree in Puppetry simply must be quirky. And Catherine, because I love her writings and Asher stories and I would like to know more about her.

And as Veronica said, if one of your quirks happens to be that you detest Memes, well I'm okay with that too.

Today my heart is heavy. Tears hover just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest invitation. I have a couple friends that are going through really hard times right now. Facing troubles of proportions I cannot comprehend. Where their options are only between 'bad' and 'worse' and the heartache in front of them is measured in years and not days. In fact, it feels that everywhere I look, people I love are struggling, being beaten down by the circumstances of their life, some a result of their own unfortunate choices and others from no fault of their own.

And today the beauty in life feels overshadowed by how often things are just hard and dark and scary. How sad it is that our lives are almost guaranteed to come with heartache. And I find myself willing my children to stay small. To stay with me where I can guard their hearts and keep them safe. Where they never have to experience the pain of watching their child suffer or their dreams crumble before their eyes. Where they will never experience a morning where just getting out of bed seems more than they can bear. What I would give for them to always see the world through the rose colored gossamer that their blessed childhood affords them.

And more than ever before, I am thankful for my absolute belief that this isn't all their is. That this world is just a stepping stone in our journey, and better things are yet to come. And in that there is hope, even when this world seems void of it.

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Rev. 21:4

To my friends that are hurting, I am praying for you, and would give anything to ease your pain. I love you, and share your burdens in every step of my day.

Updated

Back in November I wrote this:

Computer is dying. Something about blogging made it sick months ago. And it has been in a state of gradual decline ever since. Getting out of Google-Reader to comment on blogs is like trudging through a pool of sludge. It requires much patience and prayer. And if there are graphics, or ads or layers on your page, it's almost hopeless. I click that link and walk away, to get a cup of coffee or fold some laundry, then come back to see if it was able to accomplish the task, or if it locked up passed out from the effort. And sometimes now, mid keystroke, it just turns itself off. Jumping ship. Grumpy and overloaded, it stubbornly refuses to do one thing more. I know how it feels.

The Man has been voicing loudly the need to reformat. That the best thing for computer is a fresh start. While I know this may be true, I have been resisting. Because The Man, while very nice to look at, and quite accomplished at many things, tends to leave things in a slightly altered state when he fixes them.

He's actually quite a whiz at computers. He has written code for program after program to do tasks as simple as manage our contacts or as complicated as run his business. But the last time he reformatted he wiped the information out of said contact manager completely, leaving me floundering on how to reach the voice teacher. Or my mother.

And it's not just computers. The toilets he has repaired do work, but with little irritating quirks that weren't there before. "Someone go jiggle the toilet thing" is now a daily request around here. And so, I have been understandably resistant, worrying what I would lose.

But I have surrendered. Computer is in pain and we need to do what's best for him. You know, so I can get back to surfing and commenting at will. Because I have a lot to say. And because it's Christmas time. And I need to s-h-o-p people.

So I ask you all to say a prayer for computer and his trip to The Man's hospital this weekend. That we would come through the other side new and refreshed and without any significant memory loss. That afterwards he would be able to do his work easily with the passion he once had. Opening up window after window with ease. That he would be well again, completely well.

With no jiggling required.

******************

And now, three months later, I will give you an update.

The Man did not reformat computer in November or December or January. I switched to Firefox which helped some and trusty ol' computer continued to hobble and limp along long after it should, while grumbling loudly and still occasionally turning itself off completely in disgust when it just simply could not take another step.

But then, this weekend, I ran away from home went out of town with some girlfriends. And when I returned home, computer had gone under the knife. He had some things upgraded, some things tweaked and was given the fresh start he so badly needed. The Man had worked his technical magic. Computer is now lightning fast and no longer makes regular groans of pain. And so far I haven't had to jiggle a thing.

Computer geeks are so hot.

*****************
And if you know me in real life, let's just say that for reasons I am forbidden to mention, your contact information may have, well, once again mysteriously disappeared. So call me and tell me where you live and stuff....Please.

Lollipop, Lollipop

Also known as Why My House is Always Sticky...

For Wordless Wednesday

Tuesday, Tuesday

I managed to pull myself up by my bootstraps and out of my glum yesterday, by bundling the kids up and bringing them outside. I pulled the Weekids up and down the road in the wagon and then played soccer with Ben while Clara systematically coated her body with mud created from the rains the night before. It was worth it. The fresh air and exercise did us all a wealth of good. Then, after giving the mudpie a scrub down, I loaded up all 5 kids (my own plus one more) and brought them to Burger King for more exercise and a healthy dose of grease.

This too was a worthy trade off. Tired, and with their bodies full of food lead, Ben and Clara slept most of the afternoon. Allowing me to do some work on my Bible Study and have some down time. I didn't get much of anything checked off the Monday list: Clothes to tag for consignment, 64 loads of laundry (I completed one) but it turns out those things are still there, patiently - or not so patiently, in the case of the laundry - waiting for me today.

Today, however, after I drop Ben at the church where he attends preschool, I have to go to my own church and put in an application to work in their preschool next year. I enrolled Clara in preschool for next year with Ben and when I suddenly realized what their combined monthly tuition would be, it left me reeling a bit. It was, in fact, a fairly low number and shouldn't have been a surprise, but with money still tight in the Chaotic household it would be difficult for us. So I decided to apply to work in my own church's very large preschool program where my paltry salary and, more importantly, discounted tuition, will offset this expense.

I am a bit disappointed that I would have to change Ben's school to realize this savings, but the sad truth is, I am not confident of my ability to get a job where he goes to school now. It is a much smaller program, and well, I am not sure the last two years have left them with an exemplary impression of me as a together mom. It is not uncommon for me to drop Ben off late with Clara screaming at his departure, and I, at least partially, still in my pajamas.

And so I will apply at my own church, where I have served many years as a volunteer in the children's program and have many people on staff that, I hope, would vouch for my reliability and heart for children. And, most of all, no images of me bedraggled in a baseball hat and bunny slippers fresh in their mind.

In short, after 10 years, I think I still have most of them fooled that I've got my act together.

Oh and if you go to my church and are reading this...You're on to me now. Shhhh.

Monday, Monday.

On Sunday night I go to bed, full of plans and resolutions for the week ahead of me: Things to accomplish, abstain from, correct in my heart. So why is it that every Monday morning I want nothing more than to stay in my bed, under my covers and try to forget what I have resolved?

Coffee anyone? I am on my third cup and so far it's done nothing to make me enthusiastic about the week ahead of me. It's indistinguishability from the weeks before is defeating me.

That and a certain toddler's rage that her brother wants to play monster-bowling in his room...alone.

Valentine's Day.

So yesterday was Valentine's Day. This day does not fall heavily on the Chaotic Household's calendar. Lately, I had rolled around the idea that I should be more like Beck and Ginger. Making each holiday special for my children. Depositing a coin into their treasure chest of memories, so to speak. I should make heart shaped pancakes for breakfast and home-made Valentine's for Ben's class.

And then I woke up. This is me we are talking about here.

We celebrated Valentine's day by finally getting the boxes of Christmas decorations back up in the attic. Nothing like a holiday in mid-February to remind us that the red and green bins still sitting in the hallway have been there too long. That's classiness for ya right there. I also mopped my floors. Which is to say I mopped the whole upstairs level of our home. Something else I had been planning on doing for at least a month. It became apparent it might be past time when I asked Brandon why he had gone outside without shoes on as now the bottom of his feet were black. He proclaimed indignantly that he had not left the kitchen. It was, in fact, only 9:00AM. Ahem. Praise God for badly in need of refinishing rustic hardwoods and their ability to conceal dirt.

And then, after that, because I wasn't feeling well (darn polyp) I took a nap. And, lest you think I boycotted the holiday completely I did give each of my children a small Valentine's treat and I sent Ben to school with his requisite bag of store bought Valentines. Power Rangers for those of you who care. Ben has never seen Power Rangers but, like Spiderman, is certain they are cool beyond measure. He also pretends to be a Power Ranger which just seems to involve standing with either a leg or an arm jutting out in a weird angle.

I also decided that in the spirit of my abandoned diet the holiday to make a special treat after dinner. I made brownies (from a box-sorry Beck) and attempted to cut them into heart shapes to make Valentine brownie sundaes. It didn't work and we ended up eating little piles of brownie goop with a scoop of ice cream on top during our family devotional.

While we were sitting there, eating my masterpiece, I declared, "I mopped the floors today."

"Wow, impressive." The Man declared enthusiastically.

"These brownies were supposed to be shaped like hearts" I confessed.

"Still taste good like this", Brandon mumbled with his mouth full.

"Mom gave me gummie worms for Valentine's Day!" Allison bragged happily.

And therein lies the key to a Happy Holiday in the Chaotic Household:

Low Expectations.