'They're Baaack...'

I got an early Halloween scare today when Bella came in from outside and told me she had a surprise and to close my eyes. I opened my eyes to find a medium-sized singular mushroom. It had an orange cast to it. I gasped and quickly breathed 'Where did you get that? Did you get that from the back yard? Are they back?!' "Yeah' she replied, 'Three piles.'

?!@#$&*!

I give you...

{Photos once again taken from the safety of the deck, one story above the specimens}

I know it's silly. I know that it makes no sense, but these things freak me out! Why does no one understand?! You may recall last year's reaction. (I just reread it, and did you remember that they were steaming and had juices running from them? Do you still think they are harmless and I am overreacting??) Afterwards I hastily put it out of my mind and rested well believing that the offenders were cut asunder and my place at the top of the food chain was well established and proven to any and all who might be thinking of plotting another such overthrow. Not this time, fungi!
Apparently they didn't get the message. They lay dormant for a while, scheming...I just mowed the lawn a bit over a week ago and there was absolutely no sign of growth. I did check while I was there because it crossed my mind but I breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared to only be host to authorized, properly manicured grass and weeds. Then today, I go out onto the deck after Bella's surprise, and I can't help it, I screamed. I swear I wasn't trying to be dramatic, and even though I braced myself for it, the sight instantly sent chills all over my whole body and I let a scream escape. From then on, every time i thought of it I got full-body chills.
I talked to Molly today and she pointed out that it was well-timed, being the day before Halloween. I replied excitedly with 'Yes! Because they're like Zombie Mushrooms!!', thinking that maybe someone finally understood, but she was merely referring to their pumpkin orange color. Damn it.
Really? Does no one understand this (albeit very strange) idiosyncrasy? It's anything that clusters- bee hives, wasp nests, small weed-like onions growing in my yard that I tried, futilely to dig up, just constantly unearthing more and more...even the word 'cluster' in this context makes me shudder. And 'piles'. Ew. There should not be piles of anything growing.
Robin sent me an email this time last year called 'Grillin' Bees' and it was a story and photo documentation of just a sick ridiculous hive and it almost makes me sick to my stomach. If you're interested let me know and I can send it on, but be forewarned.
I'm really not afraid of anything. Anything else, I guess. I'm cool with bugs, insects, rodents, dirt, all manner of farm animals, spiders, snakes, you name it. I'll touch it, I'll dig in, I'm down. No fear. But show me a sprouting vegetable or a fast-growing brightly-colored mushroom in the yard, and I'm done.
Done.

Anti-Social Even on the Internet

I studiously avoid most networking sites or services including Twitter and FaceBook. Obviously, Blogger is an exception since it is my journal and not an advertisement for myself, availing any and all to seek me out. I admit to an aversion to these sites that prevents me from even looking at them-I have not ever looked at FaceBook or Twitter.
This seems a little strange since I am not necessarily a private person. I am a talker and anyone who has had one conversation with me probably knows all they want or need to now about me. I will write about almost anything. (In fact, in response to Jill's request- I wear a 36 D. Before I delivered my kids I was an E and that was before my milk even came in. We're talking personal-size watermelons here people.) Yet despite this proliferation I cringe at the thought of a very specific group of people finding me- anyone from high school.
I did not enjoy high school. That is an understatement. In fact I hated the years that collectively include junior high and high school, puberty, adolescence, all of that. I hated it so much that I dropped out at 16, got my GED and went to community college so I could transfer to BYU by the time I would have been graduating high school. One of the best decisions of my life. Because of this, I alienated a lot of people from my life, as was one of the primary reasons for doing so. I wanted to change my life and make a clean break. High school is not a place for clean breaks or absolution among your peers. I think I made those years unnecessarily difficult for myself. I am a completely different person than I was then and I don't want to reminded of that time of unhappiness.
Since I left high school in 10th grade and haven't seen most of those people since then, I never really gained closure. I left when everyone was at their peak of punkish-ness and thus they are forever frozen that way to me. It is so hard to imagine that they have moved on and become successful, contributing members of society, never mind admirable parents. That thought is mind-boggling to me. Mind-boggling. I know that at least some of them must have grown up to do something worthwhile if only because of the mathematical probability. Perhaps I may even like one or two of them if we met as adults. But I still can't imagine that to be true. In many ways I feel like my life began when I dropped out. Most of my memories and parts of my life that I like to recall are from that point on. Anything remembered from my adolescence is usually explained with a lot of head-shaking and shoulder-shrugging.
Perhaps part of this means that I am afraid of what people will think if they do happen across me. Would anyone even look? Remember me? And if they did would they think kindly of me or remember me as the weird girl who freaked out and dropped out of high school?
I know its idiosyncratic and probably an insecurity on my part, but I don't want to be on display in the online meat market that exists.
Besides all of those reasons, I try to live a simpler life and to me, these typify the rapidly increasing world of technology and voyeurism. I am not against technology and quite enjoy many of its fruits, but not to the degree that most are accustomed. We have a cell phone thanks to my mom, but I never use it and it is, as described by a flight attendant on the loud speaker this summer, a 'Model -T' phone, or looks like its from 1953. While I don't think it is that bad, it is definitely a no-frills phone. No camera, no touch screen, no apps or games of any kind. And voyeurism? I feel about blogs and the like the same way I feel about friends. I don't care about having throngs of friends who are merely acquaintances that I keep on hand or see occasionally to share trivial bits of information or gossip. I much rather enjoy a few select friends that I know well and love. I don't have the time or interest to pursue the lives of people I knew 12 years ago, veritable strangers, who knew me when I was at my worst.
So there's my defense of my anti-FaceBook and Twitter policies. Just musing on that today.

She Says

I accidentally bumped her chandelier and it jangled all over. She said: 'Good thing it's your fault, because if I did it I'd be sure to get in trouble.' Sadly, she's probably right.

I was trying to clarify something she had said so I asked her 'Didn't you just go poop, honey?' She cryptically replied, 'Ohhhh, you'd be surprised at that.' Uh...

She starts to employ various words or phrases that she hears but they are not always in the correct context. Lately she uses 'certainly' and 'willing' a lot. The other night at bed she gave a stream something like 'I'd be willing to pick up these books. I'd like to read this one if you are willing. I would be willing to read every single one of these books.'

Field Trip

Today Bella had her first field trip in the form of one Patterson Farms in Mount Ulla, which is about 40 minutes north of here. Owing to our transportation limitations right now I was prepared to tell Bella we weren't going to be able to go, but it made me sad to think of all her friends going and talking about it at school and her feeling left out. I was inspired to ask Linda if she wouldn't mind terribly taking her, at least half-expecting a 'no', but she was happy to do it. At least she convinced me of that. Fiona and I came along and I'm so glad Linda was generous enough to drive us up there and spend half the day with us.
These are two of Bella's favorite people at school: Sydney and Madeline. Both are cute girls and I am curious to get to know their mothers better as well. Incidentally, Sydney reminds me of me at her age. Mom, do you agree? Shell? I don't know who else would know- Denise? I need feedback. My next thought was that I think she's really cute. I don't mean that to sound as vain as it does.

One of the first (and best) attractions of the farm was their farm animals. They had lots of goats, including babies and pygmies alike. So cute! I know goats get a bad rap, but I think they're so cute! I kept getting mad at the bigger alpha goats who would butt the little guys away when we were trying to feed them. Big mean bullies. I tried verbal chastisement and arm waving but they did not concern themselves with my disapproval. I sneaked some extra to the babies when the jerks weren't looking. how else will they ever get big enough to challenge their elders?
I loved this sweet looking sheep. I don't know what kind it is but is looks just like ones you see in romantic pastoral paintings. It just evoked peace and simpler times to me. Maybe it hated all of us gawking and chattering away, but her cool demeanor did not betray her thoughts. They also had a cow, a couple of ponies, 3 tiny sleeping black (thus un-photographable) potbellied pigs, chickens, peacocks and rabbits. Right up Linda's ally. Incidentally I still dream of having a gentleman's farm, i.e. one that is non-productive or large-scale, but maintained for fun. I've always dreamed of living on a farm and having chickens, pigs, sheep, goats, horses, maybe a cow or two. Not too many, just a few of each. I love the barn smell, especially horse barns. Hay, leather, tack oil, fresh air and even manure. The peace and solitude of simple hard work in the barn with your animal comrades. The chorus of animal sounds- clucks, maa's, baa's and the like. But I digress...
The scene.
Linda is so sweet with my girls and they return her affections. She held Fiona much of the time and kept her smiling and happy. Fiona's hair still smells like Linda which also smells a bit lie my mom since they wear the same perfume.

Our chariot awaits.
Listen, I'm sorry about the cleavage. There's not a whole lot I can do working with what I've got- I'm tempted to give you my bra size for a point of reference but I don't want to offend any shy readers so I will keep it under wraps. You can always email me if you really want to know. Anyway, all I'm saying is unless I'm wearing a high crew neck, which I am not wont to do- something's going to show. And I'm sorry. Oh, and this is me and Bella on the 'hayride'.
Fiona enjoying the view.
The view.
I tried to put Fi's hair in pigtails with much difficulty. Her hair is in a weird stage right now and unfortunately for her she has a double crown (2 swirls/parts on the back of her head) so it's all kinds of crazy.

She walked around trying pick up many pumpkins.
Bella roamed those fields picking up nearly every pumpkin, apparently testing their heft and appearance carefully. Incidentally, Bella's hair is also is a weird stage right now. We're trying to grow out her bangs for the first time and they are long enough to skim her eyes and be obnoxious, but not long enough to do much with. Her hair's getting crazier as she gets older. I need to figure out what to do with it but she is reluctant to make any changes. Plus, one time when mom was visiting she mentioned in her presence that Bella's hair looked weird with her bangs to the side and now Bella complains that she looks weird every time we do it.

All in all a good time was had by all. Linda saved the day by driving us there, keeping me company, and holding Fiona. We got a lot of good adult conversation in, something my days don't see enough of. Tomorrow I have to walk Bella to school in her costume (no car) as well as Fiona and a pumpkin for us to carve for the 'Pumpkins with Pops' activity that Timm is unable to attend. With Halloween a few days away it's a big week for parents!

This Week

Monday, I:
- picked up the whole house
- vacuumed the house
- dusted most of the house
- unloaded the dishwasher
- ran two loads of laundry
- deep cleaned the hall bathroom
- soaked the bath toys and net in a bleach solution
- raked the front yard
- made smoothies
- created a caterpillar home
- played in the leaves with the girls
-tracked my food on dailyburn.com
- had FHE
I did not:
-shower or get ready.
Bella holding the big fat caterpillar we found and made a temporary home for. She probably 'played' with this guy for about 45 minutes, long after I went inside. We kept him in his 'home' until daddy came home and then she reluctantly let him go.

For part of FHE we collected the leaves I raked and took them (along with Bella) down to the backyard.
Fiona got to join the rides on the way back up. Afterwards we let them jump in the leaves a bit. (Video at the end of the post)

Tuesday:
We had the Maxima towed to a service station after it refused to start on Friday. Actually it would start briefly under duress and then almost immediately die. While the tow guy was here he was looking under the hood trying to assess the problem. My diagnosis to him was that it was making a bad squeaky sound that Timm said was a belt, then it refused to start and there was a fairly large metal cog on the ground. He tried to start it while I was inside feeding Fiona. I heard a heinous prolonged squealing sound and went outside to tell him how awesome that sounded. There was a bit of smoke coming from the hood and he told me it burned the belt right off and the car almost caught fire, had he not cut it quickly. There is now a souveneir spot of burned black cement on the driveway.


N.C. only uses rear licence plates so Timm kept the front Utah one if that makes anyone happy. I question its legality, but we've never been cited.
Wednesday:
I got large blisters on the balls of my feet from walking 4.5 miles in unsuitable shoes, such as flip flops.
Thursday:
I let Bella use her piggy bank to buy her first item from the ice cream man who patrols our street. Yes, he is still patrolling since our daily highs have still been in the high 70's.

She chose a Spiderman delicacy with gumball eyes.
Fiona, suitably outraged that she is behind glass while I photograph Bella eating ice cream.
Video, below: Fiona started using a fork for the first time. She was using it much better before I got the camera out. She's like that- as soon as she sees the camera she's so mesmerized that she ceases all function with the sole intent of grasping said camera.
Also, the girls playing the leaves and Bella riding her bike. She rode her bike on the sidewalk across the street under my supervision while I raked. I was surprised because she hasn't ridden it in a while, and even then she needed a bit of help, but this time she got right on and went for it! After this video she started going as fast as her little legs could spin, teetering the bike to the verge of tipping, all the while yelling "I'm zooming! I'm zooming!"
By Friday I was climbing the walls from 7 days confined to the house with the girls. Yes, it even gets to me.
Our week came to kind of a grinding halt after the car was towed. We got a lot done in those first couple of days. Here's to about another week without a car...

Dear Anonymous:

In case you have failed to read the header at the top of my blog, I will summarize:
This is my journal. My journal, my blog. In case you haven't read much from me, I almost always give too much information. I even have a label to warn people away from what might be too much information that it becomes potentially offensive or overly personal. So to put it bluntly, if you don't like it, don't read it.
Journals can be revealing. Read at your discretion.

At Odds

I have a problem. I want to be thin(ner), but I also really love food. Why must these be at odds? I love everything about food. First and foremost, it just tastes good. But there's more- I love baking. Cooking-depends on the day- but baking, rapture! I love baking for other people. I love the whole process of baking from start to finish, but especially the middle part that sometimes includes dough! There are some really wonderful things to make out there.
I also want to be thin. Sometimes I wonder, at what cost? Is it really worth it? I'll give you a different answer on different days. And how thin? Maybe I want to settle for slightly plump if it allows me to also enjoy the wondrous array of food this world offers. I mean, food is a basic component of life! It's everywhere! It's unavoidable! It's amazing! And besides all this, I'm fighting biology. Eating sugar literally sends more mood-enhancing endorphins to your brain, which for a depressed person is basically a little shot of happy in every bite. (Hence a high correlation between depression and over-eating-) How can I fight chemistry? You always hear health freaks or diet-do-gooders say that food is fuel, and only fuel. I've been thinking about it and I came up with what I think is a good analogy. Yes, food is primarily a fuel source and the reason it exists is to fuel our bodies. But to relegate it strictly to this purpose is like using sex solely as a means of procreation. Sex exists to create life on earth, however it can also be really fun! (Between monogamous married individuals, of course.) Besides their primary functions both food and sex can be enjoyed for other purposes and should be! Right? Probably the solution to this would be moderation. However, I seem to have a really hard time with moderation. With anything, but especially sugar due to the happy shots it gives. Plus it's really good. Then I think I should just focus on making better choices over time to live an overall healthy lifestyle and not fret over every bite and every calorie. Unfortunately this method is risky and slow.
So you can see why I am at odds. Why oh why must this disparity exist? Why can't I be one of those cursed naturally thin people who get to enjoy the food they like without consequence?

Bellaisms

*edited to add- We're planning on making Bella a robot costume for Halloween. When asked what she should say at the door she responded in a flat monotone robotic voice "trick-or-treat--mortal."

Among the approximately 500 squirrels that reside in or around our yard, she has named one. She is convinced that it is always the same one and says "There's my friend 'Q-Tip'!" Yep, 'Q-Tip'.

We were watching Beauty and the Beast for the first time and when the Beast was transformed back into a man Bella loudly exclaimed: "Resurrected!!"

We were taking a walk and saw a rather large ant pile. Bella talked about wanting to stomp on it and so we had a discussion about respecting ants and all life and leaving them alone to be happy with their ant families. She said "It's not like they'd be just dead, like dead forever." What do you mean Bella? "You know, resurrected!" I then tried to explain that concept a bit more and emphasize that mortal life was still important and fragile.

Today we had our primary program in church and Bella did perfectly. Her part was: "I can follow the gospel of Jesus Christ when I come to primary." Then she stepped down and to the side before returning to her seat and called out in a loud whisper : "Did you hear that Sophie?!" Sophie gave her 2 thumbs up and the congregation a low chuckle.

Tonight in her prayers she rattled off a long list of things she was grateful for, among them: "Thank you for all of the ice cream that they give out and the heavens above and the earth below."

She's a crack-up.

Today...

I'm rockin' the faux hawk.

All is Well.

Enough.
All is well, enough.
I've been working hard at feeling better and there is a remarkable correlation to food and my mood. Yes, a correlation I made months ago but somehow failed to keep in the forefront of my mind. Even now I really want some cake. And ice cream. Anything with chocolate, caramel. Maybe even Pez if I'm desperate. Which I am. But not Necco wafers. Never those. Un/fortunatley we purposely have nothing good in the house. No sugary goodness anyway.
I'm close to fiending.
Add Michelle's painful jealousy-inducing London posts and it doesn't help. Missing her doesn't help either. Nor does the fact that I can't call her.
So in short, there is no need for outreach phone calls though I appreciate the concern. Also, don't take it personally if I haven't called you back (yet). It's part and parcel of the depression gig. Avoidance. Isolation.
I'm feeling much better through a concerted effort. A very concerted effort. It wearies me to think of always having to work this hard, that I live in this cyclical world where one day things are peachy and the next I've been sucker-punched. Nevertheless, depression is a trial I've been allotted here on earth and even though sometimes things look dire, over the years I really have improved. I used to feel this way most of the time. It used to take me weeks and weeks to pull out of it. Now I can't remember the last time I felt this poorly. So it's a step.
I don't like that I have to work so hard, but its usually better than the alternative. I just hope the people around me can continue to ride the waves as long as I continue to try and sail them.

{Permission hereby granted to anyone who wants to discreetly and understandably bow out of my life.}

TMI-This is in lieu of therapy.

Just a friendly reminder that my blog is for me. I write it for me, with an occasional shout out to readers or requests for information or input.
In other words, I write what I want. I write it for me. Even if it is whiny, repetitive or self-indulgent.
This is when I wonder if my blog should be private, but alas, it is not. Perhaps I've always been a little more open than I should be. Could be.
It's no secret that I have struggled with depression for years. I feel like it's something that I always have to keep tabs on, stay abreast of, try to stay ahead of. For a long time I felt like I was treading water, like I wasn't getting anywhere and like I was fighting the same battles again and again. Then at some point recently I felt like I was making some headway. I felt like I had made progress, like I wasn't revisiting the same issues and I was growing up, maturing, improving, and getting ahead of this insidious depression. If I had a bad day I was able to turn it around, not without considerable effort, but not let it spiral into days and weeks which is historically a habit.
Then about 3 weeks ago I seemed to hit a slump. I don't know exactly where it came from, but it seemed to descend from out of nowhere. I'm sure it had its origins, but to me it seemed to just appear. I gave into it for a day, hoping that I just needed a day to let it wash over me- But day followed day, turning into weeks. Now it is so reminiscent of days past, days so easy to forget how bad and debilitating depression can be, when it turns from more than merely a lack of motivation to a crippling inability to function. And this is just the beginning. This is the precipice before I hurl into an abyss of lethargy, apathy and a downward spiral of guilt, self-pity and loathing accompanied by a mystifying inability to enact any change! I hate it! I know it sounds so self-indulgent, so dramatic, so...stupid. But I swear I hate it. I swear I do not act any of it. I swear I do not want any one's pity, scorn, disbelief, sympathy, attention. I do want empathy. I want someone who understands when it sounds so unbelievable. Someone who knows I'm not looking for attention. I'm grateful i have that person: my sister. I know she understands, but even she does it better than I. Even though she understands and empathizes and does not judge, times like this it makes me feel a little bit bad because she copes and functions and does not jeopardize the happiness and well-being of her family.
This blip, this eruption makes me question my future course. I felt like I was doing well, improving, and then I fell off a cliff. What do I have to do? In order to be functioning human being, mother, wife, friend, member of society- enjoy a modicum of happiness will I always have to meticulously monitor every bite of food, religiously exercise daily, keep a strict sleep schedule, scrutinize every thought, hang motivational thoughts from every surface, berate myself constantly?
Only someone who has experienced debilitating depression will understand why it is so hard to affect change. Why despite my complaints, my misery, I cannot merely pull myself up by the bootstraps and get over it.
Sometimes this mortality thing sucks.