Dear Jeggings-
I'm so sorry I spent so much time hating your very existence, hating the very idea of you. It was stupid & judgmental and President Monson was right, we should not make judgements based solely on appearances. I'm so sorry. You are easily the most comfortable pants I have ever owned. You make my hamstrings look awesome & I don't have to pull you up every 10.5 seconds like all my other pants. You are nothing short of a miracle & I wish I had you in every conceivable color.
I love you, Jeggings, I honestly love you,
Please forgive me,
Celeste
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Well THAT sucked.
Alright y'all, guess what my new calling is? I'd say it's probably what I would have voted "Most Likely to Induce a Full Blown Panic Attack". I am the new Primary President and I was not wrong about it's effect on me. I have so much more sympathy for Matt & his panic attacks now. I get it. Boy, do I get it.
Yesterday was my first Sharing Time. I had things prepared & ready to rock on Saturday night, then decided to run it by Matt as I was worried that it wouldn't catch (and keep) the kids' attention. We had an accord. Plan A was prolly more geared toward the ladies in Relief Society (which is funny cuz that's the calling I was secretly bucking for). Matt & I came up with a fantastic Plan B, but frankly it wasn't really sitting right with me, I couldn't get it to flow in my head & therefore couldn't imagine it going off without me getting sick all over the cute little Sunbeams in the front row. By the time our eleven o'clock Sacrament meeting started I was sweating profusely (in my gorgeous silk J Crew top, no less) and could barely fight the urge to run screaming out the door. Matt convinced me to at least wait until after the Sacrament had been passed to take off, then once it had he quietly packed up all our crap & kids & escorted his looney-tunes wife to the nearest empty classroom for a stern talking to. Now before you judge him (which of course if you had seen President Monson's talk in Women's conference you would never do anyway. How great is the prophet? Honestly. I can't believe I used to not absolutely adore him.) you should know that the past 24 hours of putting up with me had been... let's say "somewhat more challenging than normal". I think I was kinda possessed. Not quite to the level that we needed an exorcist, but close. I was just feeling completely worthless in every single capacity. WORTH.LESS. Incompetent. Stupid. White-trashy. Ugly. Zero short term memory. Bad hair. (oh goodness, horrible hair) Uninteresting. Nothing to contribute to my marriage, my children or anyone else's. Spoiled brat. Socially retarded. Unworthy of every good thing in my life. A person who has made extremely poor choices in her life & probably will do so for the rest of my life. Unable to communicate with her Heavenly Father....
All that & a bag of chips. At one point I even accused my husband of wanting me to be the "screwup" in our marriage. (Because, obviously, there has to be one in every marriage, right? Right?.... No? Oh.)
Apparently my issues are not buried very deeply.
Like I said, "Possessed of a devil."
So back to the stern talking to in room 14. I honestly don't know how the man puts up with me. And the most amazing thing is that he doesn't act like it's a chore, in fact he laughs his way through it, (something that used to anger me greatly). He let me work through my control issues & helped me figure out how I could make the lesson stick in my head & assured me that I was not, in fact, the most horrible excuse for a Primary President to ever walk the face of the earth.
It turned out great, I think, but wow, what a roller coaster. I had a two hour nap after church. Apparently it's exhausting to be that cookoo.
So the two or three of you who still read my ramblings and comment, (I love you Melissa!) don't bother saying "I have never thought you were white trash with bad hair", I'm fine. Things are ok. The moment has passed. I just wanted to document it so that next time it rolls around, I can read this & remember how quickly it passes & that I grow from these little jaunts outside my tiny little comfort zone. So yay for new callings!
(honestly though, you should know that I'm excited to do this calling & that my counselors (and my husband) are angels & are "fully awesome"! I'm so pumped to work with them.
Yesterday was my first Sharing Time. I had things prepared & ready to rock on Saturday night, then decided to run it by Matt as I was worried that it wouldn't catch (and keep) the kids' attention. We had an accord. Plan A was prolly more geared toward the ladies in Relief Society (which is funny cuz that's the calling I was secretly bucking for). Matt & I came up with a fantastic Plan B, but frankly it wasn't really sitting right with me, I couldn't get it to flow in my head & therefore couldn't imagine it going off without me getting sick all over the cute little Sunbeams in the front row. By the time our eleven o'clock Sacrament meeting started I was sweating profusely (in my gorgeous silk J Crew top, no less) and could barely fight the urge to run screaming out the door. Matt convinced me to at least wait until after the Sacrament had been passed to take off, then once it had he quietly packed up all our crap & kids & escorted his looney-tunes wife to the nearest empty classroom for a stern talking to. Now before you judge him (which of course if you had seen President Monson's talk in Women's conference you would never do anyway. How great is the prophet? Honestly. I can't believe I used to not absolutely adore him.) you should know that the past 24 hours of putting up with me had been... let's say "somewhat more challenging than normal". I think I was kinda possessed. Not quite to the level that we needed an exorcist, but close. I was just feeling completely worthless in every single capacity. WORTH.LESS. Incompetent. Stupid. White-trashy. Ugly. Zero short term memory. Bad hair. (oh goodness, horrible hair) Uninteresting. Nothing to contribute to my marriage, my children or anyone else's. Spoiled brat. Socially retarded. Unworthy of every good thing in my life. A person who has made extremely poor choices in her life & probably will do so for the rest of my life. Unable to communicate with her Heavenly Father....
All that & a bag of chips. At one point I even accused my husband of wanting me to be the "screwup" in our marriage. (Because, obviously, there has to be one in every marriage, right? Right?.... No? Oh.)
Apparently my issues are not buried very deeply.
Like I said, "Possessed of a devil."
So back to the stern talking to in room 14. I honestly don't know how the man puts up with me. And the most amazing thing is that he doesn't act like it's a chore, in fact he laughs his way through it, (something that used to anger me greatly). He let me work through my control issues & helped me figure out how I could make the lesson stick in my head & assured me that I was not, in fact, the most horrible excuse for a Primary President to ever walk the face of the earth.
It turned out great, I think, but wow, what a roller coaster. I had a two hour nap after church. Apparently it's exhausting to be that cookoo.
So the two or three of you who still read my ramblings and comment, (I love you Melissa!) don't bother saying "I have never thought you were white trash with bad hair", I'm fine. Things are ok. The moment has passed. I just wanted to document it so that next time it rolls around, I can read this & remember how quickly it passes & that I grow from these little jaunts outside my tiny little comfort zone. So yay for new callings!
(honestly though, you should know that I'm excited to do this calling & that my counselors (and my husband) are angels & are "fully awesome"! I'm so pumped to work with them.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Clover Lane is awesome & I want to live there too
I stalk a fair number of blogs. Some I know, some I only wish I knew, some I actually wish I didn't know (seriously. please tell me that I am not alone in this. There are some blogs that I can.not. stop reading, but they are decidedly not (as my mom would say) "uplifting".)
Anyway, there's this Sarah girl (woman really, mother of five) who I totally want to be like. I stole this little snippet from her post this morning, feel free to go here to get the whole thing in context.
"...So if this is all true, then I and I alone, have the power to create a spectacular day every single day. It's not that hard of a "recipe" to follow. It's not asking too much, it's not about what's going on OUTSIDE of myself...it's about me knowing that I have the power to feel like this everyday, no matter what it brings"
Now if that's not uplifting, I do not know what is. I honestly want to have it made into a gigantic vinyl (heaven forbid) and post it on my bathroom mirror, my front room wall, my television and my forehead. You know, just so I don't miss it.
Now I'm off to have an awesome day!
Anyway, there's this Sarah girl (woman really, mother of five) who I totally want to be like. I stole this little snippet from her post this morning, feel free to go here to get the whole thing in context.
"...So if this is all true, then I and I alone, have the power to create a spectacular day every single day. It's not that hard of a "recipe" to follow. It's not asking too much, it's not about what's going on OUTSIDE of myself...it's about me knowing that I have the power to feel like this everyday, no matter what it brings"
Now if that's not uplifting, I do not know what is. I honestly want to have it made into a gigantic vinyl (heaven forbid) and post it on my bathroom mirror, my front room wall, my television and my forehead. You know, just so I don't miss it.
Now I'm off to have an awesome day!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Facebook & I broke up today
I deleted the app from my phone. You'll be hearing a lot more from me. You see, we had to break up because I could not be trusted to not say stupid or incriminating things.
Open mouth, insert foot.
That has happened one too many times. Inadvertently offending loved ones, spilling secrets, being way too negative, and generally being obnoxious. (plus it's awkward when people say, "so, you sweat in a smiley face pattern, that's cool." Too many people know too many things that I did not tell them.)
Goodbye facebook. I will miss you, but I will decidedly not miss making an a@$ out of myself as frequently.
- Posted from my iPhone
Open mouth, insert foot.
That has happened one too many times. Inadvertently offending loved ones, spilling secrets, being way too negative, and generally being obnoxious. (plus it's awkward when people say, "so, you sweat in a smiley face pattern, that's cool." Too many people know too many things that I did not tell them.)
Goodbye facebook. I will miss you, but I will decidedly not miss making an a@$ out of myself as frequently.
- Posted from my iPhone
something to pet
I have a lot of other things I need to be blogging about right now but since I always forget the funny things Sawyer says I feel like I need to write this one down before I forget.
yesterday when we were driving home from ballet sawyer said
"when my fish dies I want to take him to take him to that fish place instead of down the toilet."
"what fish place? The pet store?"
"no, no, the place with the red fishy sign"
McGrath's Fish House
"sweetie, that place is a restaurant, a place you go to eat fish, not to bury fish. Dead fish go down the toilet."
"oh, ok."
I could almost feel the deep thoughts swirling around the back seat.
"okay then how about I let you flush him down the toilet, but you buy me a hamster when he dies?"
"well, Daddy is probably allergic, because people that are allergic to cats are usually allergic to hamsters too."
"but I will just keep it in my room, in a cage, and never, ever let it out...."
"that doesn't sound like a very good life for a hamster, does it?"
With much heart-breaking sniffling and chin-quavering she manages to choke out: "but I just want something to pet..."
Me too, Bubs, me too.
yesterday when we were driving home from ballet sawyer said
"when my fish dies I want to take him to take him to that fish place instead of down the toilet."
"what fish place? The pet store?"
"no, no, the place with the red fishy sign"
McGrath's Fish House
"sweetie, that place is a restaurant, a place you go to eat fish, not to bury fish. Dead fish go down the toilet."
"oh, ok."
I could almost feel the deep thoughts swirling around the back seat.
"okay then how about I let you flush him down the toilet, but you buy me a hamster when he dies?"
"well, Daddy is probably allergic, because people that are allergic to cats are usually allergic to hamsters too."
"but I will just keep it in my room, in a cage, and never, ever let it out...."
"that doesn't sound like a very good life for a hamster, does it?"
With much heart-breaking sniffling and chin-quavering she manages to choke out: "but I just want something to pet..."
Me too, Bubs, me too.
Friday, September 3, 2010
I think this is really funny
Someone took the time & effort to embellish every single bike-path-rider dude in the town of Sandpoint Idaho. Love it!
- Posted from my iPhone
- Posted from my iPhone
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