Words to live by

I found a particularly noteworthy quote online today:

"You are always going to face criticism, you are always going to face challenges; but those things are there to make you stronger and more committed to what God gives you."

Personally, I can relate to these words. And I can attest to the fact that criticism and challenges can, indeed, make you stronger. Facing criticism and overcoming challenges makes you dig that much deeper into yourself, reaching depths of your soul you didn't even know you had. What you find there makes you believe in yourself more than ever, and you do so with ridiculous intensity. Then, you are able to stand a little taller, hold your head a little higher, and dig your heels in a little harder to stand your ground.

God gives us so much -- from gifts, skills and talents to the people who come in and out of our lives. When you commit to the gifts you have been given, you find your passion in life and work ceases to be work; it becomes joy. And when you commit to the people in your life, you will also find passion and joy... like you have never found before.

Effective immediately, we will be imposing a PITA Tax. (Pain In The Ass Tax)

The next time someone is whining incessantly about something insignificant ... hit the offender with the PITA Tax. Or if someone is driving you insane using all means they have available, ... tax them. For example...

Slow driver in front of you? PITA Tax.

Customer ahead of you at Starbuck's asking the barista for his/her opinion on what each and every coffee drink tastes like? PITA Tax. (Hint: They all pretty much taste like coffee. Hence the name, "coffee drink.")

Jackass on his/her cell phone speaking loudly about personal matters? In public? PITA Tax.

Same jackass speaking just as loudly in the movie theater? PITA Tax. (And I think you get to give them a free smack upside the head, too.)

It's time we benefit from the annoyance provided by others. No longer will they shred our patience or tap-dance on our very last nerve. You annoy me or make my life a living hell? I'm going to tax you. Then I'm going to take the money and go buy myself something nice.

Or pay bills.

Probably both.

Have a delightful day. Now, go forth and TAX someone! :)

mmm--hmmmm

Sometimes you just need a little Niecy Nash.

If you know not of whom I speak, you can find her hosting Clean House on TLC or on Comedy Central's "Reno 911," where she plays Raineesha Williams. While "Reno" has it's irreverent comedy merits, I prefer seeing her on Clean House, since that's where her personality absolutely shines.

There's just something about the way she'll glance at the camera when faced with some hopeless family who has literally disabled itself due to the clutter in their home. Niecy calls this, "mayhem and foolishness."

Amen, Sister.

Watching her and the Clean House crew take a family from a hopeless disaster to the hopeful promise of a new beginning is inspirational. And when necessary, she'll gently address delicate situations -- loss of a loved one mostly -- and remind people that they need to honor the loved one's memory by living the best life possible.

But mostly? She listens to lame excuses for why there are rabbits roaming (and pooping) freely in the master bedroom or how the kitchen has no counter space or running water (!!!) and gives them an emphatic, "Mmmmm-hmmmmm." Because you know inside she's got to be thinking, Thank you Jesus that they're paying me good money to get these hoarder-freaks squared away, and NO HE DID NOT just argue with me about keeping a mason jar full of teeth that came out of his very own mouth..."

So when you feel like you've met your personal daily quota for encountering idiots ... people who make you want to rip your hair out and scream ... get yourself to a television and catch an episode of Clean House. Hopefully Niecy will be there in all her glory. Don't bother to sit through the show if either of the two step-in hosts are on. You won't get the full effect.

God bless you Niecy, for cutting through all the mayhem and foolishness.

The one in which I declare myself an idiot...

In a perfect world, scads of people would be wild with anticipation for each blog entry. They would sit at their computers every morning, cup of coffee in hand and click on my blog for their morning "fix," then proceed with their days feeling uplifted, entertained or just really good.

But I have to be realistic.

I have seven people who follow the blog enough to actually click on the thingy (technical speak is not my forte) to show their photo on my page as "Followers." Seven. And I don't even know if all seven actually log in and read my blog every day, but I think there are at least a few regulars. And I probably know who they are, too.

Lately, though, when blogging, I've noticed there weren't as many comments as I used to get. Not that there were a ton, mind you. Just those few people who just might have a funny comment or one-liner to accompany the day's entry. I so enjoy reading them all. But all I kept seeing was "0 COMMENTS." I thought my lazy ass leisurely blog schedule had made readers lose interest. Today, however, when logging in, I happened to notice "10 comments awaiting moderation" at the bottom of the screen.

Nice.

Apparently, at some point in the recent past, I was tinkering with my settings and enabled "comment moderation." And I didn't realize/remember it. And I thought the lack of comments meant everyone left.

(This is where you'd feel sorry for me for being such an idiot so technologically challenged.)

And I'm just emotionally vulnerable enough right now (read: PMS-ing) that I could just cry. Not because I'm sad, but because once I saw there were comments, I realized some of you still DO read my blog. And I'm grateful. For all three of you. Or seven. Whatever.

Don't let my sentiment mislead you. I haven't gone all rainbows, puppies and sunshine. I still have my dark, snarky, (very) often inappropriate side. In fact, I believe I told Lindy today that if I did not heed my body's craving for a cheeseburger today, my mood could quickly swing to, "You wanna piece-a me?! 'Cause I'll take you down like a Christmas tree! Fo shizzle!"

Now,... thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.

just...say...no

Ladies, please... if you are over, say, the age of 10, you are TOO OLD FOR PIGTAILS. Especially in a professional office. Casual Friday or not -- just stop it.

I got myself out of bed this morning to run.

Yes, you heard me.

Once my alarm went off, the urge to go back to sleep was overwhelming. But then Jeff said, "Gmmph, mpphhgph. Guh mmph mmphuhh." Which, when your face is not buried in your pillow, translates to, "Go running. You'll feel better." (Guess SOMEBODY has had enough of my incessant bitching and moaning about how out of shape I feel.) I got up, got dressed in my much-loved running skirt*, laced up my shoes and off I went. I even got to use my new toy: a Garmin training watch. It is, in a word, SUH-WEEEET.

So, I'm all about enforcing my self-imposed ban on sugar, eating healthier foods, yadda, yadda, yadda. Then I get THIS in my email:

It's an ad from our local gourmet chocolatier, DeBrand's, announcing their "chocolate-dipped strawberries are available for a limited time."

So,... is it still considered eating a serving of fruit if it's dipped in chocolate?

*Because sometimes it's more about how good you look, than how far you run! :)

pretty white flag

That's it. I give up.

See that thing being waved slowly above my head? It's a white flag. Big. White. Flag.

Last Friday morning, Jeff came home from work with a scratchy, sore throat. Not a huge concern, since the trees and mold counts have been wacky and I figured he was experiencing the same allergy-related junk I'd had a few weeks back. By the time I got home from work at 5:30pm, he handed Bobby to me, sat back down in a chair and proceeded to fall asleep. He ended up sleeping all evening, too, which led me to think the sore throat wasn't allergy-related and he was obviously fighting off some bug. After he worked a 48-hr. shift on Sun./Mon. and arrived home Tuesday morning, things were getting worse. Sinuses and lungs were joining the party now. Wednesday morning he ended up calling in sick (which I have never known him to do) and asked me to make an appointment for him with the doctor. Turns out he's got upper respiratory AND sinus infections, brought on by allergies. He is now outfitted with the appropriate pills and sprays to get him back on the road to Wellville, USA.

So, for the better part of a week, I tried to take over a majority of the kids/house stuff so he had nothing to do but rest.

And now? I am fried.

As if my diminishing patience and shortened tolerance for the boys' bickering/fighting/arguing wasn't enough of a tell-tale sign, I arrived at work realizing I was supposed to be somewhere else conducting an interview. And had another coming up in 40 minutes. A couple of phone calls and profuse apologies later, everything's rescheduled for next week. It hasn't been the first time in the past couple of weeks I've spaced being somewhere I should've been... and it bothers me. I don't want to be that person -- whether at home or work -- who is so overloaded and frazzled that appointments and responsibilities are compromised or completely forgotten. Not to mention being "that mom" who is constantly frowning and barking/bitching at her kids.

Looks like it's time to take a deep breath and try to regroup.

First, though, I need to attend to my scratchy, sore throat.