Life with Red Ruth: The Pillows

I'm going to start a stick figure series called Life with Red Ruth: The Chronicles of a Hormone-Stricken Crazy Woman. When I was pregnant with the twins, I honest-to-goodness was pretty chill, totally relaxed. I did not freak out about anything. You can ask David. I regretfully admit that this time around, it's not the same. Which is weird because I actually had more hormones with the girls. Maybe they cancelled each other out, I dunno. This time, though, at the drop of a hat, I can be overcome with a rage monster I like to call Red Ruth. It's a term from the TV show Friends, when Ross would become "Red Ross" when he freaked out over something ridiculous. And poor David gets the brunt of Red Ruth's flames of anger.

There's a chaise lounge type of thing in the girls' bedroom. It came with 100 pillows, which is silly, but they look nice, so we (I) kept them on there. They have to be put on a certain way in order to fit them all and still be able to sit down. Men don't understand this. The other day, I walk into the room and there are pillows EVERYwhere. There were some on the ceiling, I don't know how they got there. Of course, "fun Dad" was letting the girls play on the couch thing. I walk in and see the pillows and freak out. We had a showing in just a second, he knew that and it does take a little while to get those pillows back on just right. And not that the kids can't play on the furniture in their own room, but not RIGHT before a showing, right.

The conversation actually went like this...

Ruth: David, honestly? We've gotta go. Can you fix those please?

David: Yeah, of course, no problem. Come on girls, let's fix the pillows for Mama.

(30 seconds later)

David: Done!

Ruth: Yeah, that's not even kind of how they go.

David: Well, show me how they go and I'll make sure they're like that from now on.

Ruth: (sigh) Fine.

But, in my head and in my rage-induced world, the conversation went more like this...

Booooooriiiiing

This past weekend, my parents and brothers drove down to Key West. LAME. I feel sorry for them, I really do. Noah was on Spring Break...for the very last time ever...and then it's the real world, Noah! It's the real world! No more Spring Break! You gotta work, suckah! (That's me being Mom.) But for real...hehe, no more Spring Break.

Noah loaded some pictures on Facebook and I stole them so we could all share in their misery.

They made a few stops on the way down just to break up the monotony of the grossest state ever, Florida. Ugh, Florida. Tropical America. Crystal clear waters, white sugar sandy beaches, hues of blue and turquoise that are impossible to reproduce outside of nature. Blah...kill me now.

They stopped by Silver Springs to see the, well, springs. Despite the swarms of rednecks that frequent the tourist trap, it's a beautiful...I mean, disgusting place. Cool, clear, calm water encapsulated by lush Florida vegetation, haunted by ghosts and legends of man-eating creatures. They have glass bottom boats that take you to see all the main springs and some of Florida's indigenous wildlife.

Then they stopped by the Everglades to see the Everglades.

And they went on an airboat ride.

After the Everglades, they drove the rest of the way through the Keys and ended up at the very bottom...Key West. The bottom of America. Fitting, too. Pristine scenery, amazing seafood, unparalleled water sports...it's a wonder people don't die of boredom when they get there.

One day, they took a two-hour catamaran ride out to Fort Jefferson...70 miles from Key West. In the middle of nowhere.

It was a fort built to protect the Keys against piracy and during some of the wars, but then it became a prison. I can think of worse places to be imprisoned. It's surrounded by a seawall to protect against the surf and it forms sort of a moat. It's the largest brick formation in the USA.

Over a decade ago, a saltwater crocodile got blown off course by a storm...WAY OFF COURSE...and ended up in the moat. He's been there ever since. They say as long as he doesn't bother tourists, he can stay. I feel so sorry for him. Noah said he seemed to be okay.

Interior walls.

The most famous prisoner was Dr. Samuel Mudd...one of the conspirators charged in the murder of Abraham Lincoln. That's where the saying, "Your name will be Mudd," comes from. This is his cell.

Noah went snorkeling outside the fort in the reef. He was the only one that went, which was a super smart idea.

Inner courtyard.

Another day, they walked on the original Seven Mile Bridge to Pigeon Key and back.

Mom and her pumpkin hat.

Pigeon Key

Ugh, really? Barf. Give me a pollution-hazed dreary city locale any day of the week. Who wants to live in paradise?

Key West has the best hole-in-the-wall restaurants and my family insisted on sending me pictures of everything they ate. Coconut-encrusted grouper, mango pecan snapper, white chocolate mousse brownies, Key Lime pie, tempura fried green beans. "Heh, sorry excuses for tropical cuisine," Ruth smirked at her family's food choices as she removed the plastic film from her own frozen chicken alfredo lunch.

Whatever, I mean. Key West...I don't care. I have to finish my Cocoa Puffs and get back to work. Bye.

Catch Up Post

Happy Tuesday, fellow humans.

The girls are finally all the way better and are sleeping through the night again. PRAISE THE LORD! (I sung that part...a sustained A sharp)

I have a new superpower...in addition to all my regular ones. I can now smell everything. EVERY.THING. It's not a great superpower. I'm not really pleased with it. My favorite Philosophy lotion: on hold until my Super Sniffer powers chill out a little. The girls' shampoo: barf. Waffles toasting: that's nice. David coming in from working out: sexy, but barf also. I wasn't bothered with smells when I was knocked up with the girls. Wait, what did I call it last time? Babied. Yeah, smells didn't bother me when I was babied with the girls. Overly-powerful food smells or really flowery lotions or shampoos are way too much. I've had to change my own shampoo because I couldn't sleep at night, the smell was so strong. I have a pregnancy acne face wash that's safe to use and it about knocks me out. I have to hold my breath when I wash my face. But clean, light smells like fresh-cut grass or my face toner or strawberries...those I like. I can smell the neighbor's cologne from three houses down when he goes to check his mail. I can tell you all the ingredients in a marinade someone is using to grill their chicken when I'm out for a walk. If you wave at me, I can smell it. If only I knew how to use this power for good and not evil!!!

I have decided that this baby is a girl. Don't get me wrong, we'd be just as happy with a boy. No, we weren't trying for a boy because we "already had" two girls. That's ridiculous. We were trying for a baby, but I would have settled for a capuchin monkey or sea otter. We wanted and prayed for three kids and God blessed us richly. I don't know why He chose us, but I am so so so very thankful. But, I'm almost certain it's a girl because of all the old wives' tales...which are, in fact, infallible ways to determine your baby's gender. Not that I was a supermodel before, but this kid has stolen ANY beauty I had (girl). I am just as sick, if not more, than I was with the twins (girl). I did the red cabbage test and if you held the glass under natural light, it was red (boy), but if you put a flashlight behind the glass it was purple (girl). But, I did it in the morning again and it was green (alien). I'll update you on that one once I know more myself. And well, really, that's all I have. But, I've heard that girls bring on the nausea more than boys. We would be thrilled with a girl (I'm a little biased). We would be thrilled with a boy (I hear they're just as awesome). We would be thrilled no matter what with the baby God has chosen us to take care of. (I think it's a girl, though :) )

The first go-round with being babied, I couldn't eat anything for several weeks. I lost a good bit of weight. Dr. Mac had me drink Ensures for awhile. Not a problem this time, said the heifer. I'll eat anything. I mainly want cheese and meat and eggs and cheese and chips & dip and cheese. And seafood! Big, heavy stuff. I want a bison burger from Ted's Montana Grill like nobody's business. I wanted Chinese for awhile, but I think I ate too much of that. Then, it was Mexican. Right now, I'm pretty happy with egg salad sandwiches. And peaches. Okay, everything.

The other night, I was about to hop in the shower and noticed my bracelet David got me for my birthday was gone. I haven't taken it off since September 1. I freaked out and ran in and told David who was like, "Calm down, we'll find it." But, I had no idea when it fell off. It could be out in the yard or on the trail or anywhere in the house. But we had to start somewhere. I HAD to find that bracelet. It had been a crappy week and I did not need that. I said I had been rough-housing with the girls in the recliner earlier and David vacuumed around there, so he said he'd look in the vacuum. I went and felt down in the cushions of the chair, nothing. I looked underneath the chair, nothing. I went to lift up the foot rest...PAIN. There was another section of the foot rest I didn't see and it pinched the fire out of my finger. I thought it had broken it. I lowered the rest to pull my finger out, but was so mad and was desperate to find that bracelet, I lifted the rest up again and pinched my OTHER finger doing the exact same thing. The chair was crying by the time I was done with it. I'm not proud of some things I said. David heard me yelling and walked in, grinning after hearing some of the word combinations I used, and asked, "You okay?" I was a mess. Long week + missing bracelet that was very special to me + raging hormones + two "broken" bloody fingers = Ruth in a pool of tears. I went to get some bandaids and David went back to the vacuum. Then I hear, "I FOUND IT!!" And so I cried some more. It was in the vacuum, whoddathunk. I had a good cry in the shower. I always get a little homesick this time of year, too. In the spring and fall. Just homesick for my childhood, if that makes sense. I'm home when I'm with David and the girls, but you know what I mean. So, there's my chair story. We've kissed and made up and I even sat it in this morning.

Okay, that's all I have for today.

Friday...You're Here

First of all, thank you so much for the sweet, sweet comments here and on FB and through email. Hugs! They meant more than you know. :)

You guys...YOU GUYS...

I don't know that I've ever been this grouchy, overwhelmed, exhausted, or whatever ever before. Let me vent for a second and then I'll take a step back and realize I'm overreacting and acknowledge just how blessed we are.

It begins...

We've had a showing every day this week. So, statistically speaking, I AM NEVER SELLING ANOTHER HOUSE AGAIN. Sweet David keeps saying the reason we haven't sold it yet is because God isn't done with our next one yet. And he's right and I have to keep reminding myself of that. But, also, working and keeping up with two crazies and trying to keep the house looking show-worthy all. day. long. because you never know when somebody's going to stop by...it's, well...I'm over it. Soooooo over it. And I know when we're at the closing table, it'll all have been worth it, but right now, I'm gonna eat the next person that doesn't buy our house.

The girls have been sick for a week now...a.k.a. we haven't slept in a week. I look and feel like the Crypt Keeper's great-grandmother. That also means that all during the day, the girls are super fussy. I mean, I can't blame them. I'm super fussy, too. But, if you're a graphic designer, or are required to think at all during the course of your day, it kind of wears on you to constantly hear a monotonous "uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" all day long while you're trying to get work done. And they can't help it. They don't feel good. I'm just saying I'm going crazy.

When David and I planned for this new baby, I just knew it'd be one. David was a little nervous it might be two again, and we would have been okay with that, but we're both definitely grateful it's "just" one this time. However, I, in my arrogance and stupidity, thought, "Shoot. One? Piece o' cake." NO, IT'S NOT A PIECE OF CAKE. I am JUST as tired and JUST as nauseated as I was with two. God laughed at my little "oh, just one baby will be easy" plans. I'm sick all day long...much worse at night. Like Jess told Nick on New Girl this past week, I'm walking around like a Disney witch. So hunched over and ridiculous.

OKAY. I'm done venting. I realize selling a house ain't easy and it has to be at the buyer's convenience and this is all just part of it. It's just hard. And I'm very much looking forward to our new place, wherever it may be.

I wouldn't trade my snotty-nosed whiny little sickos for anything. And hearing them whine when they're sick and ask for me to hold them just reminds me of how much they have blessed our lives. I can't imagine life without them. They are perfect.

We are so thankful God has chosen to give us this new little life to care for. I have another post on that later. But, nausea and all, it's amazing and I am so happy.

Here's a video of Piper and her weird language.

For Lent

It's been so crazy around here the past few weeks that I totally forgot to tell you guys what I was giving up for Lent. Mom decided to give up Chapstick or Vaseline for her lips. I asked, "Oh, are you like obsessive about putting it on even if you don't need it?" And she said, "Oh no...my lips are really chapped all the time." And I said, "Mom, you don't give up something you actually need." And she said, "No. I said Chapstick and I'm sticking to Chapstick." And by golly, people, don't you try to talk her out of it.

I thought and thought and thought about it...what to give up, what to give up. This is what I came up with.

- Unpasteurized cheese, milk, or juice (Can you actually buy that anyway?)

- More than 200mg of caffeine a day (I've calculated my chocolate intake and it's 199mg, so we're good.)

- Cold deli meat (Lame. Whatevs. I just heat the meat up to steaming.)

- Spas (Because I frequent them so often.)

- Alcohol (Y'all know I'm a lush.)

- Shark, albacore tuna, swordfish (The last time I had swordfish, I got Norwalk's disease in the South Pacific...so, never eating that again. Remind me to tell you that story later.)

- Aspirin (Fine. Tylenol's got my back.)

- Parkour (That's a tough one. It's hard for me to just drop my passion in life.)

This Lent will actually last until mid-October, so I don't know what I'm going to do without my unpasteurized goat cheese and shark salads every day.

We went and visited the Lent specialist the other week.

This "Lent" ordeal is also the reason my posts have been extra lame and sparse the past couple of weeks. In bed at 8 every night. Sigh.

And yes...just one this time. (sigh of relief)

Blergh.

Sorry again for the lack of posts. Y'all. February can kiss it. And to add insult to injury, they gave it another day this year. I do think that's cool, though. So, if your birthday is today, Happy Birthday! You're probably only like 7 or 8, huh? But, seriously, February...later gator. It's not been a bad month at all. Actually, a great month. Just SOOOO busy. I am wo. out. I don't know why I feel like a brand new month will replenish all my energy.

You know we're trying to sell the house. I realize now why everybody says this...but, I will never sell a house again. The next house will be the one we die in or until Jesus comes back, because I ain't moving again. When you're selling a house, you have to do everything at the prospective buyers' convenience. If they're in the neighborhood and want to see the house RIGHT NOW, they get to and the house has to be immaculate and they don't like the sellers in the house. So, I have 20 minutes to pick up all of the girls' toys, which are, of course, everywhere. I have to hide all of the clean laundry sitting on the bed waiting to be folded. I have to vacuum the whole house. I mean, everything has to be perfect because people don't care that you work from home and have two kids. They want to see a model home. MOST of the time, though, the showings are on the weekends and we have at least a 2-hour notice. But, inevitably, it's during the girls' nap time or right at their bedtime.

Which is what happened this past Sunday/Monday. Sunday morning, we had a showing from 9-11, which was a great time for us. Usually agents leave their business cards on the counter, but this one didn't. AND, I made cookies, like I do for every showing. I generally know how many people are coming and I'll always make a few extra to seem generous. But, really, I know they're not going to eat all of them because they don't want to seem like pigs. So, it's a very maniuplative situation and I'm fine with it. I left these folks cookies...not a single one eaten. Hmph. Whatever, more for me.

We didn't hear anything from our agent, so just thought they maybe weren't interested. But, on Monday, I got a call saying the couple loved it and wanted to bring their parents back to get their approval. Mistake #1. Sorry, parents, but it's true. Their agent said if the parents liked it, they were gonna write up a contract that night. We knew it was in the bag! They said the showing was between 6-8 p.m. Not the best time for us because the girls' supper is at 6 p.m. and bedtime is at 7 p.m. But, we would make it work. What we do is load up on snacks for the girls and lots of movies to watch and we park way down the street and turn off the lights. We can still see the house, but they wouldn't know we were watching. Yeah, it's a little creepy, I realize.

Well, three cars FINALLY pull up at 6:45 p.m. Nine people get out the cars...NINE. How many parents do these kids have? (Btw, I baked eight cookies, so I was already a little nervous.) They get out of the cars and immediately, a gazillion flashlights come on. It's not even that dark outside, but whatever. They walk through one of the gates in the fence and you can see some sparkles as the flashlight beams pass between the boards in the fence. They're in the back yard for a good 10 minutes and then come out of the gate on the other side. They walk around the front, shining the flashlights everywhere. I'm beginning to wonder why they're not going inside. Our agent then calls saying their agent is running late. Of course. She finally gets there about 7:10 p.m. They all go inside. The girls are starting to get fussy, as are David and myself.

For the next 50 minutes, we can see people going through the front bedrooms and then three men came out with flashlights, shining them everywhere. They did this for awhile. My heart started sinking and I realized these weren't the folks that were gonna buy the house. Not when they brought seven extra people with them to pass their approval on a house. They left about 8 p.m. We went back inside. Again...not a single cookie eaten. What kind of monsters are these people?!? We didn't hear anything until yesterday morning. Yep. No offer. Our agent said the parents talked the couple out of it, but in talking with their agent, ours said there seemed to be something else going on as well. The parents were helping them buy the house, so it might have had something to do with that. Whatever. That's how it is and we understand that. But, it was a complete waste of our evening. I was SO ill about it.

And I've been so grouchy. But, I did have eight cookies to keep me company. I'm not baking any more goodies for these moochers. If they want to buy the house, they can do it sans cookies. We DO, however, have a contingency contract on the house. A couple offered our asking price, which we were thrilled with, but they have to sell their house first. But at least we have a contract on it. I like that couple, too. I know their names, but we've never met them. I picture what they look like and I like them. They have dogs and I know they would love the yard. I kind of hope they get the house in the end...just hoping it's sooner rather than later.

I'm just tired of showing it.

Thanks for letting me vent. Blergh.

Also, color crayons are from the devil.

They Call Me...Eagle Eye

It's an ironic nickname and, actually, only one person in the world calls me that...Miz Di. (Her name is Diane, but we've always called her Miz Di.) It's ironic because I have horrible vision. I wear contacts (or glasses at night/when nobody can see me) and I can see totally fine, thank goodness. But, I take out my contacts and I can find my way through the house, but I'd have to hold up paper an inch from my face to read a 30 point font.

I got the nickname many, many years ago. I can't remember how old I was, but I'm going to guess somewhere between 8 and 10. My best friend, Michaelyn, was over at my house playing. Michaelyn's family were neighbors. Where we lived as kids (and where my parents still live), having a neighbor meant someone within 2 miles of your house. It's not like the neighbors where I live now and you walk out to check the mail and a million people are staring and waving to you. Bah, humbug!

Michaelyn or I would ride our bikes to each other's houses to visit. Michaelyn had an older sister who was Sara's age and they hung out a lot, too. Her name was Mandy. My favorite memory of Mandy is when we were all four jumping on the trampoline and...you have to remember, that back then, there weren't any sissy spring bumpers or pansy safety nets. These were real trampolines. They helped shape us into who we are as adults. Always living on the edge. Today's trampolines are so "safe". Although, I'm very thankful for that because I can't imagine my crazy kids on a "real" trampoline. So, we were jumping and I don't know how it happened, but Mandy FLEW off into the woods. It was literally like watching someone throw a heap of cats into pile of leaves...legs and arms flying everywhere. But, she was on her feet in a second, holding her head, saying, "Ooooh, my brainssssss."

Another thing you should know about Michaelyn and Mandy is that their dad's name was Michael, but he went by Mike. They had a younger brother named Mikey. And an even younger brother named Bryan. Bryan? I mean, a great name, but I think we lost sight of the theme here, guys. And I am praying to God that Mandy doesn't read this. Mandy, if you so happen to stumble upon this, please know you guys were some of the best friends Sara and I had. Not a lot of kids would be friends with us (mainly Sara...I was super popular) and we so appreciate it. You guys were, and are, awesome. I hope we get to see each other again soon! I just...well, I always wondered about "Bryan".

ANYWAYS...my thin and extremely tall friend, Michaelyn, was over at the house playing. We were probably playing with my model horses. She loved horses as much as I did. OH! That reminds me of another M, M, M, and Bryan story! Short one, I promise. Sara and I rode our bikes over to their house one time and there was a horse...A HORSE...standing in their front yard. We stood in awe and jealousy for a moment before one of the family opened the door. They answered our silence and dropped jaws, "Oh yeah! So, this horse just walked up in the yard. We're trying to find the owners now." WHAT?!?! A horse just WALKED up into your yard?!? Okay...number one, WHY DOES NOTHING LIKE THAT EVER HAPPEN TO ME?! and number two, don't find the owners. KEEP IT! I never get that lucky.

Okay, for real this time...Michaelyn and I were playing with my horses–the small, fake ones–when the phone rings. I hear some murmurings through the wall and then Mom comes into my room.

"Girls, y'all want to go to Miz Di's house and help her find a diamond earring?"

"Uh...sure?"

We loaded into the car and drove the 2 miles to Miz Di's house. We arrive and find out that Miz Di had been outside talking on the phone and when she got back in, she realized her diamond stud had fallen out. She searched and searched to no avail. She called for back-up. Two 8 to 10 year olds and a lady more blind than she was. If you're a guy, you have to understand that a girls' diamond studs are priceless. It doesn't matter if they're 1/16 of a carat or 5 carats. Her diamond studs are the staple of her jewelry armoire. It's a sin to lose one. Miz Di showed us the area where she thought it might have fallen out and promised, "If you girls find this earring, I've got some ice cream Snickers waiting inside." Well, I knew Miz Di and we were gonna get those Snickers regardless, but I was determined to earn it. The ice cream variety had JUST come out, so it was a big deal and I had only heard stories of their wondrousness. I would have one that day and it would be glorious.

Mom and Miz Di went back inside the house, leaving Michaelyn and I standing in the grass. You know what, now that I think about it, those two old gals never even helped us. Hmmmph. I see how it is. Whatever. I knew we would find it. We got down to our knees and started slowly and meticulously picking through the blades of grass. We had been looking for about 3 minutes and then I had this feeling. If you've ever been to any church camp or conference, you've probably taken a spiritual gifts test. It's not to TELL you what gifts you have, but to kind of give you an idea of what your strengths are. They're very helpful. The one I always score highest in is prophecy. No, no, I can't tell the future...but I kinda can. (Seriously, I'm joking...prophecy is like having an intuition about things. That sounds arrogant, and I can't explain it well, but it's like I have a feeling about things. Ah, that still sounds crystal ball-ish. I'm sorry. I hope I'm not confusing anyone. I'm just saying I can see into the future. AH NO! Just Google it.)

As I was kneeling, I KNEW I was about to find that earring. I just KNEW it. I looked to my right and saw a little indention in the grass. I didn't see the earring, but I knew it was in that little hole. I peeled back two blades and, sparkling and smiling, there was the diamond stud. I held it up for Michaelyn and said, "Found it. Let's go get our our ice cream."

We walked into the house, earring in my closed palm, and I presented the earring to Miz Di and Mom. They both proceeded to scream and jump up and down. "Calm down, ladies, and show me to the freezer." Miz Di produced two Snickers ice cream bars and Michaelyn and I sat and immensely enjoyed the rewards of our labor. From that day on, Miz Di has called me Eagle Eye. She also calls me Izzy.

And I still love ice cream Snickers.

Need something found? Give me a call. (*wink...putting my shades on, slowly walking away with a little swagger..."Eagle Eye" fading across the screen*). Except, don't really, because I'm blind as a bat.

Meh meh meh batsaren'treallyblind meh meh meh...I know, science nerds.