Happy Thanksgiving! Let's count those blessings!

So, as a break from tradition...I am not going to rant, but instead count my blessings. Maybe I'll do it in a verbal diarrhea type of spillage - you know, similar to a rant so you don't all get confused.

This year, I'm blessed. I'm blessed with kids who drive me crazy, a husband who can infuriate me, a house that needs some work done, a car that I hate driving, a body that ain't what it used to be, my fleeting sanity, family that contributes to my fleeting sanity, a bank account that is mainly empty, a job that doesn't challenge my potential, friends who live too far away and too few real ones who live close enough.

I know that doesn't sound like I am counting my blessings...but in actuality - I am. I love all of those things.

My kids can drive me crazy b/c they are healthy and active and loud and happy. My husband infuriates me to no end, b/c I love him and want the best for him and sometimes he can't see the forest through the trees (silly man...).

I have a house and while it may need work, I can afford it, and it is mine. I hate my care purely b/c it is too big for me, and that is by design...it is meant to hold that wonderful family of mine and keep them safe - NOT for me to love.

I am overweight, but I've got some tasty food to eat, a family that loves to cook with me and I can still pull off a somewhat little black dress in creative ways...My sanity may be fleeting, but I've still got it (well, most days) and the extended family that contributes to my hysteria, I've got them. That is more than many can say.

While my bank account is near empty...it is b/c I've used it on all the things I've mentioned above that are the most important things in my life; and hey - I still have it to attempt to fill some day, right? My job doesn't challenge me to my potential, but it does allow for me to have a family on MY terms. It's not much, but I'll take it for now. I still have to work on what I want to be when I grow up...

And lastly, the friend thing. I'm thankful to have you even though you are far away. We keep in touch and I'll hope for the day you move close enough for me to take for granted. And the real friends being sadly lacking close by - well, it made me appreciate the ones far away more than I could have ever dreamed.

The long or short of it is...I really love my life - precisely how it is. Well, that is not too true. I'd love to love it from about 20 lbs lighter. LOL, but who wouldn't? Thanks to everyone and everything for being here for me to gripe about but to really hug tightly when the chips are down and the doors are closed. You make me...well, me. And I kinda like this chick.

A good old fashioned Western

I'm going to preface this posting with: I have small children. By saying that, I'm intending you to understand I have three kids, ages five years down to one year old. Yes, my oldest is five...and a chip off the ole block. And this is where my story begins:

Dinner was not going to end well. I could sense it. My three-year-old had already been banished from the table for spitting out his pseudo-chewed chicken. The five-year-old decided to buck the current and ride it on out. She requested dessert. She was informed that there would be no reward for any dinner this particular evening.

She stares intently at me. She puts a piece of chicken into her mouth. In the blink of an eye, I hear that whistle song from old Clint Eastwood movies...You know the Westerns where the two gunslingers face off on an empty and dusty road? I imagine both myself and a miniature carbon copy of myself in some ill fitting "cowboy attire". She takes a small move to chew and the whistling gets louder. I believe my husband left the table when the tumbleweed rolled on through.

I see the gag coming. I call her bluff, "If you hork up anything at this table, you can be certain that I will have you clean it, in addition to eating what on your plate is not covered in said yak. Trust me, kid...you wanna dance - you better be prepared for the bloody battle that will be waged."

She ponders for one last moment and decides to finish chewing. I hear a cheer go up in the saloon behind me...or was that just the hubby at the refridgerator? I might never truly know.

To Mascara or Not to Mascara

So, have you ever found yourself living out little events in your mind? I needless to say, have a very vivid imagination. Just this AM, I found myself driving to work...following a [it had to be a stupid woman by the way she couldn't drive...giving the rest of our gender such a bad rap] freak who was all over the on-ramp on the highway. We're doing 40, no - 20, no - 50, back down to 30. She's in her lane, she's swerving toward the CONCRETE guardrails. She's back in her lane. WTF?

My mind has raced through all of the possibilities at this point to explain the erratic driving. She just had a stroke and is trying to save her life and keep it on the road until she can pull over...no. There is a killer bee in her car that is trying to attack her and she's trying to shoo it out the window...no. She is mentally retarded, and should not be driving, but her mom was too drunk to drive to McDonalds, and she was hungry...no. Hmmm, what could it be then?

The on-ramp comes to an end, and I have the opportunity to pass her - low and behold! She's applying her make up. And not just any make up...MASCARA! And her window is open. Well, I don't know about you, but I many times struggle not to poke my eye out with that junk AND I'M ONLY STANDING AT MY BATHROOM VANITY!!! My mind wanders. I imagine her hitting a pothole and gouging that adorable baby blue out with a mascara wand. The horror when she arrives in the ER, having caused a 15 car pile up in the middle of rush hour, only to find they can't reattach it b/c there is too much goo to dredge out. What if her eye, heaven forbid, flung out the window at 60mph? What if I drove over it? Poor woman...how would she be able to apply the other eye tomorrow???

Seriously...how do some of these people get drivers licenses?