TV

There was a tragedy that occured in our household. It involved a TV and a MAJOR malfunction. A lifeless screen hung from the wall for days as the kids complained and I became increasingly frustrated with their bickering and whining....but the TV didn't care what it had deprived our family of or what chaos it had caused. It just stared at us with its pathetic blank screen.

Thank God Almighty that we made it through the World Cup. I cannot imagine the disappointment of my middle son, being that soccer seems to be his life these days. But we did miss a few days of the Tour de France and a couple "important" episodes of Man VS Food and WipeOut. Hubby and I didn't have our usual 2-3 episodes of Criminal Minds, to which we watch together to relax....if serial killers aren't super relaxing, I don't know what is?

They say that going through times of difficulty make you a stronger person. Well, if this wasn't a time of difficulty. Last week was an energy-sucking week that left me lifeless and moody by the weekend. Mostly because I didn't have my TV. Not that I allow my kids to sit and watch all day, but it is nice to be able to cook dinner and have them quiet and ingrossed in some form of animated edu-tainment. It is also a luxury to be able to sleep in until 7:30 AM (ok, 9:00) because the kiddos can enjoy some early morning cartoons. Yeah, remember, that was the week when the sun came up, like, at 4:00 AM and the kids rose with it....

So, I think I may have received a little less sympathy from my husband when I told him about how difficult life was without the TV. I may have gotten a little upset that he chuckled and thought that I was a little silly. He tried to give me advice when I just wanted to vent about my horrible week sans HD visual stimulation. I was a little stupid to think that it was the TV's fault.

I did learn a few things without TV. I learned that my kids do have imaginations, even if my oldest reminds me that he doesn't have one. If they can't watch WipeOut on TV, they can surely play it in the living room. Radio is a pretty cool thing to listen to even when you are not in a mini-van. They can read books and "clean" their rooms for hours-on-end.

The boys did get hungry more often, but I gladly fed them. Two of them even wanted to help me prepare the food in the kitchen. We had lunch together and had longer conversations because no one was rushing to get back to see if MythBusters blew up anything cool.

I never would have imagined that TV would have such a geat impact on my life, but after this last week, I think that I have put too much faith in my rectangular friend. Sure, there is a time for TV. When Mom needs a nap because she spent all day keeping her kids entertained and away from the TV, that would be an appropriate time. My youngest has received reinforcement on sounding out letters and combining letter sounds to make words from TV. He sings old folk songs (lost treasures from history, I believe) that he's learned from a "tune hound". As long as our family learns to keep it to that instead of filling our minds with hours of "smut", I think that we will thrive and avoid remote-control thumb arthritis.

Intervention

I'm sure that you've noticed that I've been blogging a lot about myself lately. You may think that it may be like therapy...."Talk about yourself...How does that make you feel?" Or maybe it's more like self-realization, but I'll tell you the truth. I just like to talk about my feelings. Well, that really isn't true. I don't like to talk about them. I like to type about them. No immediate feedback. I can say how I feel and not have anyone tell me that I'm crazy to my face. It hurts less when someone types it in as a comment...and usually by the time I read the comment, I think to myself, "I AM CraZy!"

I've never watched the show Intervention, but I've seen enough commercials between all of our DVR'd Criminal Minds on A&E. Today got me thinking that I may be a little obsessive. Most people have wierd querks that border OCD, but I think that after today's realizations, I may need to consider therapy (Thanks M for helping me realize my true core....I've been lying to myself all of these years!) It all started with the garbage today. I am pretty obsessed with sorting my garbage. Our city gives us color-coded bins (just like in preschool...very easy for those that cannot read yet). Today I thought that I'd challenge myself. I threw everything into the regular garbage and now I have this halo of anxiety that I cannot shake. I have opened the garbage a few times to take a piece or two of paper recyclables out, but why can't I just forget?


A couple of weeks ago, my mom asked if I had stopped by her house while she was away. I said, "Yeah. I needed to pick up those chairs and the watermelon." She said that she knew that I was there because I always pick her dead stalks from her daylillies and leave them in a nice pile. It's a ritual. I do it everytime. I have a compulsion to pick my mom's weeds. I didn't even notice that I was doing it until that moment. But then I remembered thinking to myself that daylilies would be so nice in my garden because then I could pick out the dead stalks whenever I wanted to. Pretty dang freaky if I say so myself.

My closest friends and family members know full-well that I have a type "A" personality, but I think my strange actions go beyond that. This weekend we were filling our raised garden beds with manure, amend, and soil. I had another compulsion to crush all of the clods until it was smooth and clod-free. In reality, was that going to happen? No way. It's like trying to sift the sand clean at the beach with a plastic toy sifter....OK. I have tried it. We filled 2+ bags full of nails, wood, and other dangerous junk. I know that poor Stephen kept on going for hours only because he knew that I was on a mission.

I can't go to bed without rubbing the tips of my fingers against the threading of my pillow case. I've bled and am currently dealing with dry skin because I just cannot stop. I sometimes notice that my boys do it too. Could it be hereditary? It's a very odd habit. Yesterday I noticed that my youngest would not get out of the car until he rubbed the edge of his blankie on his chin. At Ikea, at JoAnn Fabrics, at Trader Joe's, at Target..... The sad thing is, I was looking at him and was thinking, "I bet that feels pretty good, like rubbing my fingers across the threads of my pillow case."

So, just like Intervention, Extreme Make-Over, What Not To Wear, Hoarders,...someone's gotta start the healing by nominating you to be on the show. Who's gonna "man-up" and start helping me?

Run, Run, Run

I am a little nervous. I wouldn't admit that to anyone face-to-face, but I'll tell the cyber-world. As some people know, I've been a wannabe runner for a few years. I've done a half marathon, a 10-mile, a few 5K's, and signed up and promised friends that I'd run in other races, only to disappoint them or myself by not going. I'm not the kind of person to exert any additional force to make myself a faster runner. I'm the kind of runner that just goes out to run and does it in the least painful way. I don't wear cute running gear and I don't have fancy running shoes. I don't even wear a heart rate monitor because it seems to me, totally pointless when I am trying to keep my heart rate as low as possible. I smile when I pass the Nike Women store because they have such cute outfits for fit runners. Maybe one day I can wear a "Runner's have the best buns" t-shirt, but until I can for-sure say "I do have nice buns", I will just have to save my money. So far, I have about $5 in change towards my purchase.

So, I'll tell you why I am nervous. Tomorrow is the big 4th of July 5k run. I did it last year and it was fun, but road races have always been so nerve-wrecking for me. I have disappointed myself each time that I've run. I deal with a major issue with self-esteem. I am never good enough for myself. Even if my goal is just to finish, by the end of the race, finishing isn't enough to feel content. If I train and I don't hit my goal time, I am in a horrible mood for the rest of the day.

So the plan for this year was not to set goals. Just RUN! I've got 3 great gals running with me. Gal #1: Steph, my Sat. morning therapy running partner. I think about the 10 mile race that we ran together until I pooped out during the last 2 miles and finished way benind her. I wanted so badly to stay up with her. Gal #2: Mari, my fun-and-silly-run-when-we-can-get-away-from-the-kids-or-when-the-husbands-don't-have-plans-to-ride running partner. I ran the 4th of July race with her last year. I guess I went out too fast and just pooped out, again, near the end and had to walk for a minute. Gal #3: Kari my newest and sweetest running friend. I've never run with her, although she assures me that she runs at my pace. I already told her that my feelings wouldn't be hurt if she just decided to take off and "smoke me". I know that none of these ladies would ever leave me behind to suffer alone...or would they? Nah. (Would they?...[that's my lack of self-esteem talking])

I have decided that I am just going to go out there tomorrow, nervous, but excited to spend some quality time with friends that care about me. I am hoping that I can help to make their run less stressful by having a good laugh or too, or even slowing their pace down a little bit. I might make them wear glittery stickers on their arms like me and bows in their hair. I'm done trying to be a serious racer...because no one would ever take my times seriously anyways. I am declaring myself an official fun-run racer. You know, the people that real racers hate because it cheapens their sport. But you know, I'll just say it, those compression socks aren't very flattering or attractive even on the best looking runner. It almost makes real runners look like fun-run runners. See you on Main Street Huntington Beach tomorrow with all of my bells and whistles!

Just in case you have no idea what compression socks are: