P.T.P.D. and the long road to recovery........

.......i know exactly what all of you are thinking....what the heck is P.T.P.D and i bet what she really meant was P.T.S.D. (post traumatic stress disorder).  nope.  i meant P.T.P.D.   so what exactly is that???  well it stands for Post Traumatic Polyester Disorder.  it's a disorder that's been kept well hidden for many years.  nobody really likes to talk about it.  but thousands have suffered through it.   many without even realizing it.  and sad to say there's no real cure.  there are those who like to say that time heals all wounds but that's a lie.  some things just scar us and we are forever changed.  so now i bet you want to know who exactly are the victims of this terrible life-altering disorder.   well anybody unfortunate blessed to have lived through the 60's and 70's may suffer from some form of P.T.P.D.   yes, that's right.  those of us that lived through this time were exposed to POLYESTER.  polyester in it's most basic form.  i'm guessing polyester means many different fabrics.  "poly" meaning many....and "ester" meaning...idk.  i guess i could google it but i'm not really sure i want to know what's in polyester.  i've always thought maybe recycled plastic bottles or something.   i can only speak for the 70's because i was born in 1970 but i remember polyester being this rough awful feeling fabric.  oh and the colors were awful too.  baby blues and plaids and oranges.  help me i'm having flashbacks now.  ahhhhhhhhhhh............     

oh and to add insult to injury....as if the fabric itself wasn't bad enough, they made sure they used plenty of it.  big giant wide lapels.  huge....i mean HUGE bell bottoms.  bell bottoms for those of you who don't know are the extremely exaggerated version of flared pants today.  extremely exaggerated.  awful.  see i'm still scarred.   well the 80's got a little better.  thought by the 90's i'd be over the whole polyester thing but i was still having flashbacks.  i remember walking through a store one day with christian and my mom.  christian had to be about 4 yrs old.  too young to know any better.   we were in one of the clothes sections.  christian grabbed a shirt and said he liked how it felt.  he said it was soft.  just by chance i saw the label and the dreaded word....polyester.  i looked at my mom and laughed.   "it's polyester!!!!!" i said.  we both laughed.  really hard.  then i grabbed christian's hand and pulled him away as fast as i could.  i discussed the dangers of polyester w/him and instructed him that he is NEVER to go around the polyester again.  ever!!!  

flash forward....oh say 20 years and here i sit.  fully recovered??? ummmmm....i don't think so tim.  i bought a pair of pajamas a couple of weeks ago.  what drew me to that particular pair you ask???  no, it wasn't the fact that they were 65% off w/an additional 50% off that or the fact that i desperately needed a new pair.   it was.....i'm ashamed to say....the feel of the fabric.  so soft.  i had let my guard down.  i had no clue polyester was still lurking in the shadows.  not in 2012.   they are so soft and comfy.....like wearing nothing.  one morning when i took them off and i said to myself......self, wonder what exactly these pj's are made of.  looked at the label and to my horror saw once again the dreaded word.....polyester.   for a moment i felt betrayed.  fooled.  i justified it by saying well it's only 90% polyester.  it's not ALL polyester.  10% spandex.  now let me tell you, spandex is the best thing that's happened  to women in 100 yrs of fashion.  don't get me wrong, it had a rocky start in the 80's.  there are just some things that should not be stuffed into spandex.  and there will forever be a select few who abuse it.  but spandex....well it's helped us all breathe just a little bit easier.   so i got to thinking if i could learn to love spandex so much couldn't i find a little spot in my heart for polyester too.   couldn't i???  idk.  but i'm gonna try.  it seems polyester mixed w/a little bit of spandex is a beautiful thing.  maybe i've been a little too hard on polyester.  maybe it's time to let go of all those hard feelings and learn to forgive.  maybe.  the road to recovery is not always an easy one........

                                                      

the grinch who stole coleridge.........

........woke up this morning a tab bit on the grumpy side.  no.  that's a lie.  i was ok for the the first few minutes.  that's about how long it took me to convince myself to get up.  but once my feet hit the ground it was all down hill from there.  luckily for samantha she was already awake when i got up.  it was a good morning for everybody involved to skip the routine fight to get up & get ready.  if she had pulled that on me today she might be walking around headless right now.  i went to her dresser to get her a pair of pants & realized she had worn all of them this weekend.  ughhhhhh.....so my first load of laundry starts @ 6:47am.  as i'm walking thru the kitchen the frying pan that i cooked supper in saturday night before work stares at me from the sink.  yeah i see you.  throw the load of laundry in.  thinking about the pan the thought hits me.  wonder if anybody emptied the dish washer from saturday????  you already know the answer.  so i fix the kids breakfast....yell at them to come get it.  i'm not serving ANYBODY today.  proceed to empty the dish washer making sure to bang, clank, smash as loud as possible.  nobody was sleeping in this morning.  childish???? yup.  that's me..little suzy-q-who who acts no more than two.  on to the frying pan and the sink full of dishes.  book bags...snacks....ponytails...shoes....coats.....off to school.  i had planned on exercising this morning after i dropped them off.  what did i do instead?  crawled back in bed.  set the alarm for 9.   hit the snooze three times.  finally dragged my butt out of the bed & got in the shower because today's "GROCERY SHOPPING DAY"  must never mess w/grocery shopping day.  i'm starting to feel a little better after my shower.  showers & mt dew are good for that.  then....as i'm blow drying my hair i get a text from my spoiled rotten adorable son christian.  he tells me he's droppin out of school for the semester and running off to australia.  haha.  hilarious huh.  my reply?  ummm...yea right.  turns out he just wanted to see what i'd say.  he said there's gotta be more to life than"this".  i reminded the spoiled brat cutie pie how fortunate he was and how many people would love to go to college.   i also reminded him that if he'd like to run off to australia that would be fine.  his student loans will be waiting for him when he got back.  end of conversation.   when did the world decide that every moment of life had to induce some kind of adrenaline rush.  kids are so disillusioned today.  yup...sometimes this is all there is.   book bags...snacks....laundry...cleaning....work....grocery shopping!!! somebody's got to do it.  and the maid and the butler are off today.  arghhhhhhh.  as i'm muttering under my breath i climb into the van.  i look out the back window as i'm pulling out and there's the drawling that ryan made me last night.  he told me he had made me something.  couldn't see it last night when we went to church and honestly i didn't pay attention this morning when i took them to school.   yes, the fact that he could draw something on my van means that it is totally nasty but that's ok.  matter of fact i'm hoping it doesn't rain anytime soon.  soooooo.....there it was....i love you mom and dad with a beautiful little smiley face.  it was just what i needed and my grinchy old heart......that felt ten times too small.....began to grow & grow.  yesssssss.....some times this is all there is.  what a rush....

yes i would. i really would......

......like a bag with that.  that is if it's not too much trouble (i know. you thought it was gonna be something exciting. hehehe). i remember back in "the day" when every store purchase was placed in this nifty thing called a bag.  and i know....times are tight.  the economy is bad and businesses everywhere are looking for ways to cut back.  but come on people.  a bag.  seriously???  we're talking about something that costs the store what....maybe 1/100th of a penny.  now i'm not talking about those ridiculous bags that they give you at abercrombie....ya know the fancy bags that cost more than the item you just bought on the 80% off clearance rack.  i'm talking the el cheapo wal-mart plastic bags.  this whole "do you want a bag for that???" thing has been building and in my opinion (which counts for little) has gotten just a wee bit out of control.  i get groceries and for about 1/4 of my stuff i get asked the question....you want a bag for that???  YES, i do.  thank you.  go to jcpenney's.  buy a shirt.  you want a bag for that??? ummmm, yes please.  i spent over $300 yesterday at wal-mart and as the cashier was ringing up my stuff she placed one of the boxes on the spinny thing and you guessed it...asked would i like a bag for that.  now it wasn't a big box.  slightly bigger than what would fit in a normal bag so if i did want a bag it would require her to reach over and get one of the bigger, more expensive bags.  maybe managers are saying....look folks, it's the holiday season, people will be buying a lot let's see if we can get them to carry it out on their own instead of wasting money on bags.  orrrrrr maybe the cashier just doesn't want to bend over and get the bigger bag.  idk.  or maybe i just look like the type of person that wants to carry all my stuff individually.  i really thought maybe it was me until i went with my sister to this high-end luggage store in the snooty friendly shopping center.  she made a purchase and i almost died when the man asked her....would you like a bag for that??? ahahhahhaha.....so it's not just me. although we look a lot a like and maybe the evil bag lords are just getting us confused.  idk.  all i know is YES i want a bag for that.  whether i spend $5 or $500.  so quit asking me. 

"S" is for super. super what is the question......

this is something i wrote over the summer.  so why am i posting it now???  well, i've got a couple of minutes to kill but not long enough to actually write something & i miss writing.  besides i don't want anybody to think all i did this summer was lay on the beach & sip margaritas.  i was a little productive.......

............everybody wants to be somebody's hero right???? we want to save the day.  we want to right the wrongs.  we want to make things better.  not necessarily for the world at large but atleast for those in our own little worlds.  i believe somewhere deep inside each of us lies the makings of that hero.  some of us are born with an "S" sewn onto our bibs.  we come straight out of the birth canal slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress.  while others of us.......well, lets just say it takes some of us a little bit longer to tap into our superhuman abilities....to believe enough in ourselves that we are capable of superhuman feats.  by virtue of default, the day we become parents we also become "somebody's hero".  we don't necessarily sign up for it but believe me if you read the fine print, it's in the job description.  right under the section about being chief cook & bottle washer.  trust me, it's there.  i pulled out my contract the other day just because i was having my doubts.  sooooo you ask what exactly is my point in all this????  wellllll you see i've been at this "parent hero" thing for a while now.  almost twenty years to be exact.  i'm thinking i should have my hero skills tweeked by now.  i have perfected the "mama kiss".  mama's kisses have the power to make everything better.  everything.  yes, thank you.  i've worked hard on that one.  but honestly other than that what kind of real hero power do i have.  i mean every hero has some kind of super power right.  wonder woman had that oh soooo cool lasso.  spiderman can sling webs.  superman leaps tall buildings in a single bound.  batman has the batcave & a really awesome car.  so i'm standing in the bathroom tonight brushing my teeth wondering what exactly is my superhuman hero power.  well, ask and you shall recieve.  in walks samantha.  she plops herself down on the commode and declares she's needs to poop.  my immediate response was....of course you do.   as i'm trying to hurry up and evacuate it finally dawned on me what my power was.  i have the superhuman power to make my children have to use the bathroom by merely stepping into the bathroom myself.  some would scoff and say that this was just a mere coincidence.  i'm here to tell you it's not.  it doesn't matter what they are doing.  if i go in to the bathroom for any reason, they're drawn to me like white on rice.  the minute i take a seat, somebody's got to "go" and it's an emergency that can't wait....doesn't matter that there's another bathroom down the hall.  i can't tell ya how many times i've been stunk out of the shower.  i've even been requested to wipe a butt while i was in the shower.  and again some would say well this is not a true superhuman power....they're just little.  no....no.  my superhuman powers have been proven to work on the oldest of my children.   just last week i decided to get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.  i have a bad habit of leaving the door open.  and it was the middle of the night.  two seconds after i sat down the big huffalump comes plowing around the corner at ninety miles and hour.....oh, oh, sorry, excuse me, i gotta use the bathroom.   seeeeee.  superhuman hero power.  doesn't matter.  old or young.  early morning...middle of the night.   they are useless against it.  now if i could just figure out a way to channel it for the good of all mankind, that would really be heroic..........

Martha Stewart I'm not.....

I spent most of today working on my domestic “goddess” duties. Grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, cleaning, cooking, cleaning, tending to sick children & ummmm…did I mention cleaning??? For all my effort, I look around me and everything still looks like a tornado hit it. ***Sighhhhhh*** Why is that??? I’m convinced there’s some evil invisible force working against me. How else would one explain the mystery surrounding the fact that 10 minutes after I clean a room it looks exactly like it did when I started??? How??? I really want to know. There are so many days I want to just say forget it. Let the dust bunnies have their way. Does anybody really have any business looking under my couch anyway??? So what if there’s dust so thick under there that you can write your name in it. Who really cares if there’s two tennis balls, a chewed up wiffle ball, three red dust-covered squishy balls, a chewed up bone (wondered where that got to), a Woody doll, 3 pennies and a reindeer ring. I mean really. Who cares! Obviously not me. LOL. I’ve kinda been on strike for the last…oh say two years. Figured if nobody else was doing anything, neither was I. Welllllllll, a lot of good that did me. Now I just have ten times the work to catch up on. Oh I’ve done “surface” cleaning. It’s the deep down cleaning and the decluttering (is that a word???) that I’ve been avoiding. Ryan wasn’t feeling so good today so he stayed home from school. Grocery shopping was his punishment (yes…punishment. He foiled my plans!). After we go back home and I put up all the groceries and fixed him pancakes, I started working on my bedroom & bathroom. An hour later, my bathroom was sparkly clean. As I stood back and admired my handy work….everything neat and in it’s place, I saw myself. No. Not in the mirror. I saw myself in a “catch all” pitcher that sits on my sink. And THIS my friends is the real point of my blog today. Not the fact that I’m no Martha Stewart. Obviously. This pitcher sits on my sink and has served as a storage container for all my little junk for years. I have a terrible habit of coming home from work, emptying my pockets and throwing everything on the sink counter. When I straighten up I’ll put all the odds & ends into this pitcher. There’s alcohol wipes, needles, band-aids, my raise (lol), and a million other little things. Well as I’m looking around the room and it looks so organized & together, I see the pitcher and it strikes me that that pitcher is me. That is what I feel like on the inside. No matter how well I clean up the outside. No matter how well everything is organized & no matter how together everything appears from the outside, I’m just a pitcher crammed full of mixed up junk. There are a lot of days I feel disorganized from the inside out. As Lisa Guy would say…..does that make sense??? And I’m not looking for somebody to say….oh poor Sue, she’s always seemed sooo together….who would’ve thunk it. Lol. Because truly I have no idea how I appear to others and I‘m not so sure I really care. What I do know is I think most people strive to look like they “have it” together. Some are just better than others at masking the truth. I laughed when I looked at the pitcher and saw myself. Why? Maybe because that’s who I’ve always been. A little disorganized and cluttered on the inside. I was a slob growing up. There Mom. I admitted it. As I grew up, I learned it was not socially acceptable to be a slob on the “outside”. I learned to shove things under my bed and into my closet.  I learned to hide my "mess".  A master of disguise.  And to this day I still do the same thing. I took some pictures of my linen closet and my cabinets but really…I’m too embarrassed to show them. Lol. Hopefully by the end of this week my house will be looking a little more presentable. At least the parts that are visible to the naked eye. Please….just don’t open anything or take a look on the inside. You’ll see how mixed up and disorganized I truly am. And besides….we might both get hurt when the ugly truth reveals itself. Lol. You see, the more things change, the more they really stay the same……