Finding Yourself Despite Yourself

From the family vault

fidget — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 05:35:00 +0000

I dug up this gem from the girls early days. This was back when I hardly had an idea of how a camera operated and thought I needed to pay people to take pictures for me *gasp!*

Tessa is busy picking a winner and Mira is navel gazing. Can you tell we are related?

Putting a joyful foot forward

fidget — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 18:08:55 +0000

I woke up this morning tired of the stress and worry. Living under a cloud is exhausting. Things have started looking up and I’m going to embrace that.

I started with a colorful new header. Then I rinsed off a bowlful of glistening fat strawberries and took the boys out back to enjoy the day.

Later, we are going to the park with friends and I plan on smiling a minimum of 36 times.

Sometimes you get so busy holding your breath

fidget — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 13:27:04 +0000

that you forget to breath.

There’s been a lot going on behind the curtain of the Fidget family, blerg-y no fun stuff. Taking pictures is less stressful then talking so that’s what I’ve been doing.

Saffi is busy growing. Funny how they do that.

The boys are making sure to keep me on my toes,

leaving little time to ruminate over these stressful doings.

The girls are, mostly, trying to be helpful and loving.

And I’m busy holding my breath. There’s rumor that things might just be ok.

(Don’t panic, it’s just work related for The Hubs. At first things looked positively awful- like living in a van down by the river awful, but better news is trickling out now)

Also, you should go poke this. It makes me giggle

Keep your fork

fidget — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 15:28:45 +0000

On Sunday, we laid The Hubster’s Mema to rest. Her church referred to it as “moving day.” It was the first time we took the 4 older children to a funeral, though this was the second of Saffi’s short life. I’m not big on the idea of children at funerals- they can be rather scary. But, we figured with Mema being in her 90s, that this would probably be the most gentle introduction to an overall sad yet inescapable situation.

The children behaved beautifully. Mira and Tessa walked up to her casket with their Daddy. We had prepared Mira as well as we could and once her curiosity to see Mema one last time was settled, that was it. Tessa on the other hand wanted to touch her (mostly, I think, because their cousin bragged about touching her when she was dead).

The Hubster stooped down to her eye level and asked how she would feel if people started poking her when she was trying to rest with God. Tessa’s eyes grew round and she told him she wouldn’t like that one bit. The Hubster nodded in agreement and they wished Mema a safe trip to heaven. Tessa’s eyes couldn’t help but linger on the fork Mema was clutching, though. Tessa wanted that fork.

The presence of the fork had the room mumbling in confusion. Mema had no real affinity for silverware, so why the fork? This passage in her remembrance card explained it all:

When they bury me, I want my old Bible in one hand and a fork in the other.I have been thinking about all of the church dinners and banquets that I attended through the years, I couldn’t begin to count them all. But one thing sticks in my mind. At those really nice get-togethers, when the meal was almost finished, a server or maybe the hostess would come by to collect the dirty dishes. I can hear the words now. Sometimes, at the best ones, somebody would lean over my shoulder and whisper, `You can keep your fork.’ And do you know what that meant? Dessert was coming! “It didn’t mean a cup of Jell-O or pudding or even a dish of ice cream. You don’t need a fork for that. It meant the good stuff, like chocolate cake or cherry pie!

When they told me I could keep my fork, I knew the best was yet to come! “That’s exactly what I want people to talk about at my funeral. Oh, they can talk about all the good times we had together. That would be nice. But when they walk by my casket and look at my pretty lavender dress, I want them to turn to one another and say, `Why the fork?’

This is what I want you to say. I want you to tell them that I kept my fork because the best is yet to come.

Mema loved quite a few things on this earth, dessert and The Lord were two of em.

I’m keeping my fork too

Bubbles

fidget — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 21:27:50 +0000

Making Time for Love: Why it’s important and how

fidget — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 18:30:44 +0000

If reading about S-E-X makes you uncomfortable just enjoy this lovely picture. Spring keeps sneaking in for a day here and there; this morning I took advantage of it.

There is an epidemic going on around me. Left and right families are falling apart. Some just had a baby, others are a few years and a few kids in. One thing they all seem to have in common is a lack of intimacy in their marriages which lead to growing apart when things got tough, rather then riding it out together.

I know you are tired (we all are) and your husband / partner knows you are tired too but sex/intimacy is important. I propose that it is just important to a healthy relationship as breathing is to life. I know that sounds all DRAMA!!! but I think it’s true.

Looking back over the last 10 years of our relationship our toughest times have been our driest. One would think that things were dry because we were stressed so thus things were tough but in thinking, we have been through tougher times then those with less stress and more grace- the reason?? Sex.

Even in those really tough times- like when my husbands job cut him down to 20 hours a week, I was 8 months pregnant, his grandfather (whom he was very close to died) and we were not sure how we were going to pay our house note or even buy food, we managed to cling together and weather the storm with little disruption to our relationship because we were connecting on a regular basis.

I see a lot of you are having trouble transitioning with your partner into parenthood. There is fighting, sore feelings, loneliness and general discord going on and my best advice to you is that even though you are a mom (or dad) now you are also STILL YOU. And you deserve to feel sexy, you deserve to feel connected and so does your partner. It’s very easy to get wrapped up in the needs of the baby and to get to a place where you feel “touched out” where you are just D O N E and cant imagine anyone wanting anything else from you. HOWEVER, you can’t look at intimacy as one more chore, one more thing to drain you. I think a lot of women need to change their idea of intimacy. I think that it is far more essential then mopping the floor (and a heck of a lot more fun too).

It’s a rare person who can tell me that they don’t have time for it and actually be right. I HAVE 5 KIDS! Last year when I only had 4, I was also working. One of my kids is special needs, Bo is like 6 kids all slammed into one mischievous whirling dervish and let’s not forgot that Saffi has been colicky. But I make time.

I make time because Ive noticed when it’s been more then 4 days, we start picking on each other. If it gets to 5 or 6 days, I find myself looking for things to be mad at him about and if I can’t find an obvious one, sometimes I even make one up! I make time because my husband is more willing to help out around the house, he’s happier, and he thinks about me more. I make time because when he’s happier, I’m happier and thus our kids are happier.

I make more time because over the years I’ve found that kissing, groping, sex, dirty talk, oral sex, etc have made my life more enjoyable. I love feeling like my husband desires me (even though I have a stomach flap, thunder thighs, varicose veins, saggy boobs, blah blah blah). I love that he calls me in the middle of the day to tell me he had fun the night before and can’t stop thinking about me. I love that he grabs my butt when passing by or whispers something naughty in my ear. I love that this all makes me feel like more then just the local dairy farm / dumpy house frou.

Now the making time part, how?

It doesn’t take that much time, no really. It honestly doesn’t have to be an epic house rocking, mind blowing, earth shattering experience every.single.time. I cook dinner every night but not 7 courses- sometimes you just need to eat *wink*

10 minutes

Now I’m not talking about having to turn your partner into a minute man but rather recognizing that even 10 minutes of fun can relieve stress and give you a chance to reconnect. That’s it, it’s all you need. It’s less time then most meals take to prepare and losing those 10 minutes of sleep is not going to break your day (but it just might make it).

You can find 10 minutes while the baby naps, or just as you climb into bed. You can hop on your hubs when the alarm goes off- just hit the snooze button and enjoy.

If you find yourself thinking, ugh I have to go have sex think instead WOOHOO! It’s time to go jump my hubs! If you think gah this is just one more bloody thing for me to do, instead think SCREW THE LAUNDRY, I’m gonna go screw my husband! Laundry will wait, the floor can be dirty for 10 more minutes. Facebook, Twitter, your blog, your fans, your friends can all wait for 10 more minutes, your relationship is worth it.

And if you read all this and still think I’m just an oversexed nutter, then you’ll really think I’m crazy now. I’m challenging you all to spend at least 10 minutes a day on intimacy and pleasure- every.single.day. for the next 2 weeks. In those 10 minutes you cant think about what else you should or could be doing. Force your mind to go blank or repeat a phrase in your mind about what you are doing to force your mind to blank out those other things

“im having sex, im having sex, i’m having sex” or “**** my **** feels good” you get the idea

10 minute quickies, hand jobs, oral, making out, groping, rubbing are all acceptable. If you and your partner are apart, trying spending 10 minutes a day giving yourself a quicky, fantasizing, or sexting your partner

every day for the next two weeks, AT LEAST 10 minutes a day

Ok, I’m climbing down off my soap box and back up onto my hubs.

I heart faces: hands on fun

fidget — Sun, 21 Feb 2010 23:35:02 +0000

this weeks challenge is “hands on fun” It just so happens that one of my favorite photos is of Tessa’s hands. I took this a year ago when one of our chickens laid the biggest chicken egg I’d ever seen!

I’m blogging just to tell you I’m not blogging

fidget — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 16:27:42 +0000

I’m blogging just to tell you I’m not blogging this week, thereby rendering this blog post completely incorrect and useless.

We spent our 10 yr anniversary and Valentines day barfing- to the point that I nearly blacked out. I’m pretty sure I felt my stomach turn inside out and smack me in the uvula. So now I’m wiped out but I can’t be, no no I can’t. This coming weekend The Hubs and I have some work banquet thingy to attend. I’m nervous and kind of pissy about the whole deal for several reasons

* The money to get all dressed up could better serve my sanity if I funneled it directly into my camera fund

* Leaving Saffi for an undetermined period of hours and praying she doesn’t scream the whole time and that my boobs don’t explode while pretending to eat my black tie meal

*Having to pretend to eat- god knows if anything will be gluten free. I don’t want to call any unfavorable attention to my husband so I’ll be quietly pushing my food around my plate for several courses.

*My hair. It’s bad. It’s so bad that I do not want to take a picture of it and post it here. Considering that I’ve posted a nearly naked picture of my bloated flabby post baby body, you know it has to be REALLY bad.

Honestly, I’ve cried about it more then once. Admittedly it doesn’t look horrifying when it’s straightened but it took Jenni 40 minutes with her Chi to make it look like I cunt punched Joan Jett and snatched her hair. I don’t own a Chi nor do I possess the time to straighten my hair every day even IF I owned such a device. Let’s not even get into the fact that the texture of my hair is ruined and that once this banquet is over, I may have to shave my head and start all over again since I dont know if I could find a stylist I’d trust to touch my head without me hyperventilating and possibly accidentally on purpose stabbing said stylist in a blind panic. Yes, this haircut is precisely that horrible and traumatic..

There are like 12 more bullet points to cover about why this event is not at the top of my sunshine list but Ive broken out into a cold sweat over the hair situation and the keys are slippery. I think I’m going to go back to the corner, put a bag over my head and rock myself until next week.

A Valentine for my dear readers

fidget — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 19:28:09 +0000

Happy Valentines Day

3 !?!

fidget — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 22:45:36 +0000

and my how you have grown