Insta Friday. My first link up.

Since this is my first Insta Friday I wanted to start small. I decided that one picture was enough.

Especially since it’s this picture.

This is my new (used) treadmill. I’m very proud of it. I’m very excited about it. I’m very humorous about it.

Yes. I was that lady who bought a treadmill on the first day of the New Year. I swore I wasn’t going to have a New Year’s resolution, and I’m totally sticking to that. Buuuttt…Since I have wanted one for so long, and I knew that New Year’s Day would probably be a time of year that people would be trying to sell them, I found this beauty for 40 DOLLARS!

NO. There isn’t anything wrong with it! It’s slightly used, home-gym quality, and in perfect working order. And it was 40 DOLLARS! I couldn’t NOT buy it!!

And no one could argue when my reasoning was, “Do you know how many piles of Laundry I can stack on this thing?”

Laugh and others will laugh with you.

Happy Friday.  

What am I thinking right now??

I will be the first to admit that I am guilty of expecting people to read my mind. I honestly believe it is part of the reason I have found myself so desperately disappointed for so many years of my life. I know that sounds a little drastic, but it was a big truth for me. I have exhausted a lot of time and energy expecting things from people that they didn’t even know I expected, then being let down because they didn’t deliver. It’s unrealistic and quite unfair. I have done it with my family, my children and in my own marriage.

And I know I’m not alone.

Over the last few weeks, I have had a few conversations with some of my very best girlfriends about this subject. The age old womanism that is, “Why do I have to tell him? Shouldn’t he just know? Won’t telling him what I want take the romance and creativity out of it?”

Because I’ve read so many articles & books and watched so many television shows on the subject, and I’m totally qualified to do so…

 Here is the stuff I’ve thrown against the wall that seems to be sticking.

1.       I guess you don’t have to tell him. You can just go through the next fifty years of marriage doing what you are already doing and continue to be disappointed. By the way, how’s that been working out for you?

2.       Do you just know what he wants? Do you read his mind? If so, awesome! Please, teach me your ways…

3.       I don’t know. Romance is a super funny word. To me it’s the first cup of coffee. I love the way the first cup of coffee tastes. I get my feelings hurt if I don’t get the first cup of coffee. It’s better than flowers. Better than chocolate. Jeremy gave me the first, first cup of coffee because he was still trying to impress me, I’m sure, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is I told him I loved it and he’s been doing it for a lot of years. It still impresses me. I told him one year that I wanted flowers on my birthday, sent to work, so everyone would know how fabulous I was and how fabulous he was. Were the flowers any less beautiful? Appreciated? Romantic? I don’t know how everyone describes it but living in a world where my partner in crime listens to what I say, and responds in a way that makes me happy, is pretty romantic. So for me the answer is No. No, it doesn’t make it less beautiful. Less appreciated. Less romantic. Maybe I’ve got a lame idea of romance. I don’t think so, though. The other morning, Jeremy got up before I did. We had made a deal the night before. One that included, “Then I want to sleep in in the morning.” So, he got up. Did he want to? Probably not, I didn’t want him to want to get up, I just wanted him to get up. So he did. And on his way out, he turned on the exhaust fan in the bathroom so that the white noise would drown out the boys’ yelling. I thought that was pretty creative. If that’s lame, then, whatever. But, I also willingly gave up the first cup of coffee which he thought was worth it. If I’m wrong, if that’s not romance and I’m just really old and married, I’m okay with that. Seriously. Maybe there was a time where a different kind of romance is what I thought I wanted but tweaking my perception on the issue has made me really old and happily married which is something I can totally live with.

I think one of the very best lessons my mom tried to teach me, one I’m still trying to learn, is the idea that I am responsible for teaching people how to treat me. Part of it is the way I treat myself, and part of it often includes telling people what I want. And by “telling people what I want”, I have found that saying things like, “OMG! You never do anything romantic. Miss Blah Blah Blah got flowers at work the other day from her husband. How come you never buy me flowers? I want flowers. It would be nice if just once you bought me some freakin’ flowers” does NOT yield positive results in my world. When I use that approach with Jeremy, I instantly sound like the adults in the Charlie Brown cartoons…you know. You know the ones. And nothing romantic ever came from one of those conversations.

Since trying to make my thoughts louder just gave me a headache that the Gods of Starbucks couldn’t fix, I’m trying “Stop expecting people to read your mind” instead.  I’m not always super good at it, but I’m working on it and that totally counts.

Not Perfect. Good Enough.

If you can do a half-assed job of anything, you're a one-eyed man in a kingdom of the blind.

--Kurt Vonnegut

A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting outside with Roxy while the boys ate at the dinner table. I was making fun of myself because they were eating dinosaur chicken, instant mashed potatoes and canned peaches…again. Roxy usually teases me because they eat so many pieces of chicken shaped like creatures from the Mesozoic Era (What? I watch Friends), but for some reason, that night she just said, “Hey, at least it’s hot food in their bellies”. It’s true, it is hot food in their bellies, and it could be a lot worse. Sometimes I’m a little too hard on myself, though, and forget that good enough isn’t always something to be ashamed of. They’re not the best eaters, anything is better than nothing and frozen chicken, dehydrated potatoes and canned fruit is better than chocolate bars, fruit snacks and string cheese. It’s not perfect, but it’s good enough.

I was talking to someone yesterday, about the exciting subject of laundry, and when I confessed that my folded laundry rarely ever finds its way to closets and drawers, he said, “At least yours is folded.” BAM! Totally right. It’s clean, dry and wrinkle free. That sounds totally good enough to me. Do I want my laundry to be put away? Of course I do. I want my house to be perfect and my car to always be clean and my kids to eat regular chicken. Every once in a while I get those things, but not every day. I could spend a lot of time and energy getting upset about that stuff, and I have, trust me, but part of this whole, corny, “Happiness” journey I decided to embark out on a year ago is teaching me that getting upset because things aren’t exactly the way I want them to be will rob me of the joy, humor and insane beauty that make up what they already are. I don’t want to miss all the good stuff because I’m focusing on the shortcomings.

I have to take this approach a lot, about a lot of things. There are about 15 or 16 emotional directions I could go. I’ve even been known to take 2 or 3 of them at a time. Trust me, “It’s good enough” is the best possible direction for me. And you, if you have the pleasure of being around me on a regular basis.

I’m not talking about taking this approach with the important things. The amount of love I give, the amount of time I invest in myself, the amount of time I invest in other people. I’m talking about the stuff that no one is going to remember when I’m gone. In fact, if whoever gives my eulogy talks about my laundry skills, it will be because I have done something severely, severely wrong.

So, the fact that most of the house is vacuumed today is good enough. It’s harder to vacuum with a helper and Brodie insisted on “Helping”.

The fact that there is no trash or old sippy cups in my car and I can see out of the front and rear windshields is good enough. She’s still really pretty.

The fact that Logan ate two bites of his broccoli and all of his prehistoric chicken before the whining started is good enough. He cleared his plate and told me thanks for dinner.

The fact that I managed to at least wash Brodie’s face and hands and the potatoes out of his hair before he lost his mind and crashed out in between screams is good enough. There is something about the silence of his sleeping that makes me forget he needed a bath.

I can do anything, but I can’t do everything. Not perfectly anyway. Some of it just has to be good enough.

Does that sound lazy? Maybe, but I dare you to call me that after living a day in my world.  

To. My. Face.

Rockin' New Year's Eve

My mom used to tell me that the way you spent New Year’s Eve was supposed to be some indicator of how you were going to spend the rest of the year. Well, if that’s the truth, let’s forecast 2012 for a minute, okay?

It will be loud and a little chaotic. It will be jam-packed full of giggles and dancing and messes and  hitting and I’m sorry’s and kisses and I love you’s.

Jeremy and I thought about doing something. We even planned some stuff. All of it fell apart with a tired wife and an injured husband and two kids that hadn’t both been home with both of their parents in what had started to feel like forever. With Jeremy’s new schedule and the split shifts I work during the week, finding us all four hanging out in the living room floor is a pretty rare thing.

So, instead of going out, we’re home, in our jammies. On the menu: Pizza. On the television: Megamind.  On the agenda: Not a whole lot. The truth is all of the anti-excitement that’s happening tonight is kind of what we all four needed. If Mom’s superstition is true and I will get more of these kinds of nights in the next 12 months, I could get really right with that.

At midnight, I’ll kiss my husband, just like I’ve done every year since New Year’s Eve 2000, except this year (unlike the last few) I won’t have to wake him up first. His new found nightowl-ness is definitely something to thank 2011 for.  The fancy clothes and the fancy shoes and the fancy cocktails will have to wait until next year. Truth is I’m really not a huge fan of fancy shoes anyway. I’d rather wear my slippers.

Thanks for the cuddles, 2011. You’re alright in my book.

Yay December!

It would be ridiculous to try and start where I left off, so let’s do the quick version, k?

The last couple of months, since my computer crashed and I had no computer and my computer left me and I was alone and abandoned, have been good.

Seriously, good. Busy, but good.

My kids are healthy and my marriage is healthy and my life is a little hectic and a little messy and a lot loud and a lot happy.  It’s not like you missed much. Just a lot of mushy ramblings and notes of contentment. New jobs, new starts, new words and discoveries and awards and superheroes. Good stuff. Good, good stuff. I didn’t get a chance to write about all of it. I’m trying to learn to manage my time better. And, you know, the computer thing didn’t help. But, the good news is, here we are in December, my favorite month of the WHOLE year. My birthday, Jesus’ birthday and Santa brought me a brand spankin’ new laptop. Yay December!

With everyone already starting to talk about the New Year and their resolutions, I started thinking about whether or not I’d ever actually made one…and kept it. I can remember making the ones to lose weight and to keep my house organized. Those usually lasted a few days, at most. There was the one (or two or three) where I resolved to finally finish my degree. (Hint: I enrolled in my first college course in the fall of 1999) And, of course, the one where I quit smoking…

I went back and read the first two blogs I wrote at the beginning of the year. The first one, while I hated it later, makes sense to me now. It was about being happy. That was the goal for 2011. When I got to my second post, I had decided that the first post was stupid and tried to start over. The final draft of the goal was actually just to Be. And by doing so, to write. I’m really glad I didn’t follow my natural instinct and delete the first post. It’s like me to do that. To take something that I feel, think, want and disregard it later just because it got too tough. Too uncomfortable.  Too intense. I think, looking back at the last year, both goals still hold completely true for me. I want to be happy. duh. Don’t we all? I also want to Be.

To Write.

Why I couldn’t see the connection between writing and happiness, in being, then, I haven’t quite figured out yet. But I’m working on it. And that totally counts.

So, instead of starting to worry about what I have to change for the next year, I decided to just get a little excited about what I’ve already done.

This marks my 15^th post. Do you know how many posts I had in 2010? None. I’m not super good at math, but I think 15 is more than none. Since my resolution, in part, was to write, I’m going to put that in the success box. I’m sure there will be something in 2012’s about consistency and content and blah, blah, blah…but we’re not there yet. We’re getting excited about 15 posts, remember?

I decided to write and I wrote. I didn’t get published. I didn’t write a novel. I didn’t write every day.  I didn’t even take a legitimate swing at having an actual blog. But, at the end of the year, I wrote, which is exactly what I set out to do.  

I have had a couple of people ask me when I was going to write another post. I guess the answer is…Now. The writing thing is still on the top of the list. We’re just going through a few learning curves. It happens. Don’t expect any new resolutions until I get a better handle on this one, though. I’m making a new rule for myself: I DO NOT have to feel obligated to make a New Year’s resolution if last year’s is making adequate progress.

It’s making adequate progress. I promise.

Oh and, silly enough, the original destination of happiness has managed to somehow find a cozy spot right next to writing and the two have found a way to exist, and thrive, together.

Everything I need to know...

I learned from television.

Don’t judge me. I was a latch key kid. There were way worse things I could have gotten into. I have an unnatural relationship with fictional characters. Always have, always will. I can take comfort in the fact that at least the shows I watched, as a kid, were approved for all audiences and the scripts were written with a (mostly) high moral fortitude.

One of my favorite bloggers, little miss momma, suggested a “Things you need to know about me if we’re going to be BFFs” blog. I thought “What do I want people to know?” Well, I want you to know that media has greatly influenced my life. For better or for worse. I want you to know that I take things that other people have written and re-write them to make them work for me. I take women from television and use their strengths to strengthen myself and their weaknesses to make myself feel normal. It happens. Ask my real life BFF Megan , she's obsessed like I am. She gets it. I’m sure some of you will too. If not, well, then thanks for reading but you’ll probably have NO IDEA what I’m talking about. That’s okay. I like you anyway. But, seriously, set your DVR once in a while and watch some TV. What are you doing instead? Cleaning your house? Working?

LAME.

The last few weeks have been especially awesome for TV. All of my favorite shows have come back for the fall season and I’ve even added a few new favorites to the list. (If you haven’t gotten a chance yet, check out New Girl with Zooey Dechanel on Fox. It’s Flippin hilarious!)

If I tried to list every woman on every show that I’ve borrowed life lessons from, it would take way more than one blog. So here’s a partial list:

Christina Yang and Meredith Grey from Grey’s Anatomy

These two have the most amazing heterosexual life partner situation happening for them. The most amazing fictional one anyway. The real life one I have with Megan kind of trumps it, but they are definitely our inspiration. They are dark and twisty, ridiculously loyal and their support for one another, whether legal or not, is unwavering. There is no judgment, they don’t talk about one another being the other’s back and if one of them is doing something stupid, the other will call her out on it, even if she eventually helps her pull it off. They are each other’s “Person” and you won’t find two thicker thieves around. It is their relationship that reminds me of the type of friend I truly want to be and the type I’m grateful I have. The kind that shows up, no questions asked, and does whatever is needed. I love Christina and Meredith.       

Ellie and Jules from Cougar Town

If Christina and Meredith ever get a sitcom spin-off, it’ll probably look a little like Cougar Town. These two, while not quite as dark and twisty, definitely have a heterosexual life partner thing happening for them as well. They are a little lighter, a little fluffier and they drink way more wine, but they have each other’s backs. They have stood by one another through marriage and divorce, babies and college kids and manage to be completely possessive of one another without it getting weird. They laugh at each other, laugh at themselves and accept one another fully even with all of the strange, annoying, and down right mean idiosyncrasies the other possesses. If Megan and I ever get our wish and live next door to each other…I imagine it’ll look a whole lot like Ellie and Jules.  

Frankie Heck from The Middle

Frankie might not be the best to teach me how to be a friend, but she sure has that realistic motherhood thing DOWN! I watched last night as she washed her armpits in the sink while trying to get out the door for work. One of her kids was in her shower and her husband was sitting idly by and reading the newspaper while she tried desperately to get all the kids out the door and ready for school. Frankie Heck is me. She’s me in 15 years. She’s me right now. At her core, all she really wants is her family to be healthy and happy and well put together and to be appreciated for all that she does. Her house is NEVER clean. Her laundry is NEVER done. Her dishwasher is ALWAYS full and her kids are ALWAYS crazy. Her relationship with her husband, Mike, reminds me of Jeremy and I so much that I swear sometimes ABC has camera’s in my house. I love that Frankie is real. I love that she’s constantly jealous of other moms. I love that she takes the simplest things that most families I know deal with and makes them endearing and funny. Example: Taking Back the House, from Season Two, where she highlights things like the kids sneaking into her and Mike’s bed in the middle of the night and the fact that they never get to watch their own TV. They decide to take back ownership of their own home and their crazy kids fight them every step of the way. Sure, in the end, things stay exactly the way they are and Frankie and Mike continue to put their children first, but I love that there is someone to watch who goes through the same stuff I go through and reminds me that it’s okay to laugh at this thing I call my life.

Roseanne

Let’s be honest, there would be no Frankie Heck without Roseanne. Roseanne was the first time where I could watch a TV show and think, “Yeah, that’s a real family. That’s my family” The ends never met. The endings were rarely happy. The trials and tribulations were so raw and so real that you couldn’t help but laugh. I can remember my mom actually telling me that I could watch Roseanne because it was the most real show on television. I still watch Roseanne all the time. Thank Jesus for Nick at Nite. If you haven’t watched it recently, stay up late, turn to Nick at Nite, take comfort in the fact that no matter how broke you are, how screwed up your situation might be, Roseanne and the rest of the Connor Clan understand.    

So, there it is. Things you should know about me. I love TV. I love characters. I’m trying to be better, but on the days when I’m not better, I find reasons for that to be okay, too.

DVR. Go. Do it. NOW.

Dear 15 year old Krysten

Things are a little hectic for you right now. I get that. Your world has been kind of flipped upside down and somewhere along the way you seemed to have lost a part of yourself. I’m here…15 years later…still trying to find it. I figured it’d be best to let you in on some of the stuff I've learned so far so maybe we can meet in the middle somewhere. Sound good?

Yeah, I realize I’m old. And you don’t think 30 year olds have anything good to say but if you’ll just listen awhile you might be better off. Trust me. I know you. Better than you think I do.

That boy you love, you know, the one that breaks your heart on a regular basis, he isn’t the only boy in the world. The heart break will eventually diminish and you will never love another one the way you love him, I promise. It never hurts that bad again. You don’t have to be scared. Oh, it’ll hurt sometimes, but not like that one. But you’ve GOT to stop expecting someone to be your “everything”. It’s too much pressure. It causes disappointment all the way around. You expect too much out of people. There are people who love you at your best and people who love you at your worst but they can’t all be the same person. You need to start filling your life up now with all different kinds of people. You need to figure out that everyone in your life exists for a different purpose and sometimes it’s okay to be still. And don’t count girls out. They might not all be like Tanya, but you’re going to meet some really good ones soon that will change the way you think. Girlfriends really are amazing.

Roxy isn’t so bad. She will become your best friend. I know it’s hard to believe now, but it will happen. Just give it time. It wouldn’t hurt to let her in a little. She loves you. She’s always loved you. You would make things easier on her and make things easier on yourself if you just didn’t fight her every step of the way. She is on your side, believe it or not. She doesn’t actually want to ruin your life, even though it feels like it sometimes. Things get way better for you and way better for her and way better for you and her. Wait until you see what kind of mom she is to you when you just give her a chance. Somewhere between You and Me you end up really needing her and she’s doing a phenomenal job.  

Scott will grow up to be your pal. I know it is hard to feel responsible for him. You aren’t. It’s not your job. He grows up to be a fantastic man. A fantastic husband. A fantastic father. He turns out great. It doesn’t matter that his dad is a scumbag and he’s disappointed by his mom every other day. He takes it and makes the absolute best of it. Wait until you meet his daughters. They are perfect.

The world is never going to hand you anything. That isn’t going to change. The best advice I can give you on that one is to make things happen for yourself. Don’t stop now, you’ll thank me later. Yes, you’re cute. Yes, you can cry on cue. Yes, you can manipulate with the best of them. Those things only get you so far. The rest is going to require hard work. I know you hate hard work. I get that you’re lazy. Save lazy for Sundays. Work hard and play hard and read hard and write hard and love hard and go full force. I need you to understand that people are trying to make you different. You’ve already started to lose spark and fearlessness. DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN. Seriously. It’ll be worth it, especially for me. It’d be best if you didn’t have to wait 15 years to learn this one.

FINISH STUFF. Please. I’m begging you. If you start now I promise to wear a really good night cream and keep your skin as pretty as possible!

Stop holding your breath for your mom to get better. For her to come back. She isn’t going to. At least, I don’t think so. So far…it gets worse. I’ve been trying to get in touch with 40 year old Krysten to find out, but she’s not returning my calls. She’s probably busy with teenagers and doesn’t have time to talk. I’m thinking we should probably both just let that one go. It’ll save us both a whole lot of disappointment and heartache. Remember what I said about Roxy? Yeah? Read it again!

You’re doing a fantastic job. I know people don’t always tell you that. It’s the truth. You’ve made your way through some pretty rough stuff already and you are shaping me, for better or worse. I want you to remember that. It’s alright that you’re scared but don’t let fear take everything over. Please. I found something recently and I want to share it with you. Read it. Know it. Believe it.

Fear can hold us back from anything we want to do in our lives.

It keeps us from loving, caring, committing, deciding, listening, hearing, seeing, bargaining, thinking, acting, accepting and compromising.

It keeps us from asking questions, talking to, saying no, saying yes, standing up, staying silent ~ and letting go.

So tragically often Fear’s intended purpose is lost, and instead of seeing Fear as the lesson in wait that it is, we run from it ~ ever certain that it is not there to serve us, but to swallow us whole.

~~Stacey K. Wood

You really are a pretty cool kid. Don’t let them tell you any different. Call your Grandparents more. Give your dad a break. Don’t stop writing. Let people in. Lower your expectations of other people, but raise the ones of yourself. You’ll be surprised what you are capable of. Stop being so angry all the damn time.

Neither one of us has messed anything up beyond repair but maybe if you’ll just listen to me, we can make the path a little smoother.

I love you. Thanks for being you.

See ya in 15 years…

♥ 30 year old Krysten.