sunny side of life

um, so someone found my blog by googling:

“5 and 6 year olds that are naked”

???

So, I enjoy shopping.

And I guess this is apparent to people in my life, because my very dear friend Ellen wanted me to take her shopping and make her “fashionable”.

I was worried about this undertaking, not because Ellen is so far off the charts, but because there’s a lot of pressure involved when other people have such high expectations.

But I knew Ellen would be even more fun to shop for than even me because, well, even after 2 children, Ellen is a 4/6. More 4 than 6, but you know how stores are funny. Which is so ridiculously awesome, I don’t even have the words to describe the hope I have for myself now because of her. But that’s a different post.

So anyway, I’m just gonna cut to the chase. I ROCK at shopping for skinny people, I really should be one. I mean, like actually get down to a size 6 instead of the 12 I’m rockin’ right now.

As an aside, just before my wedding I was almost in an 8, but you know, marriage and food kinda got in the way of keeping up with that.

So anyway, this is the outfit we picked out:

With these boots: 

And can I just tell you? I’m good. I mean, she’s got the great body or whatever. But I know how to dress it man!

Oh, and I also convinced her to re-pierce her ears.

Because my persuasion skills are apparently out of this world.

I did get 2 pairs(I actually got a pretty mint-green color that they’re not showing there for some reason, but that’s the style) of shoes (I got those for $9, can you believe it?!) for myself as well.

So I’m now waiting for Britney Spears to request my services, because she needs me desparately to straighten her life out.

At least, her wardrobe life, she’s too far gone in every other area. 

I’m sorry if you’re terribly confused by the title. You won’t really get this post unless you’ve read that children’s book.

Let me have my moment.

I was reading one of my favorite blogs the other day, when I came accross her post that had far less to do with her shoes than the embarassing moment caused (sort of) by the shoes (you should read it!) when I realized that I was on the verge of salivating over these shoes.

How many times do you think I can insert the word “shoes” into one sentence?

Anyway, I’m all. “Those shoes are adorable, I haven’t bought shoes in a while. Well, shoes that cute. I need to go shoe shopping!”

But then I thought, once I go shoe shopping, I’m really going to want to buy clothes to go with the shoes. (because that’s how my shopping is done)

Then I thought, if I want to go clothes shopping I really should lose weight. Like 40 pounds weight if I want to go on my Hawaii trip when Husband gets back. (It’s my “treat” for hitting my goal weight/dealing with his being gone for a year)

So, by the time I lose all that weight and start planning for my Hawaii trip, I’ll be needing a new pair of shoes.

And you know what that means……..

Did I ever tell you, my dear internetly friends, that I’m somewhat of a nanny? I hate to say nanny, because it brings forth images of mean British women with glasses on the ends of their noses who are far too stern with children who aren’t their own for my taste.

But for these purposes, we’ll call me a nanny.

Every Monday and Friday I watch 2 little girls who are sisters,  and quite a trip to say the very least.

M is the oldest and 3 (”…but I’m almost 4 in June, Aunt Fancythis….” I would have just been reminded) going on 16. Seriously. The kid is stinkin’ brilliant, and more often than not, I catch myself in the middle of an argument with her before I realize that she’s three and I’m the boss around here. We but heads more frequently than the little one and I because M and I are the exact same person with a 20 year age gap. I love her though. Even when she rolls her eyes at me as an indicator that I’ve totally just told her something that she already knew and has known for at least a year. Because as much as we but heads there’s nothing that melts my heart quicker than “Aunt Fancythis?” “Yes, hon?” “I love you.”

K is the little one. She’s spunky and sweet and has learned very quickly in her first 2 years that if she wants anything in this life she’s gonna have to be that much smarter and faster than her big sister. (which ain’t no easy task man) However, if it weren’t for the necessity of survival of the fittest in her life, she would be the sweetest little thing you’ve ever met. Her natural tendencies are to lean toward the sweet behavior, but she has to snap out of it every once in a while. She’s the one who, after we prayed before breakfast the other day, reminded me in a fit of panic “Aunt Fancythis!!! We f’got pay foh’ Unk Luke!” (Loosly translated, “We forgot to pray for Uncle Luke!”) I know, right? An angel.

So one of our favorite activities (besides going to the mall and throwing my pennies into the fountain while singing, them, not me, church worship songs) is to play on their play-doh table. We’re sitting there playing today, when for some unknown reason, a Christmas song popped into my head. I started humming it, and then realized that I wouldn’t be facing the judgement that often comes from an adult toward one who sings without talent because I was with kids for pete’s sake.

So I started singing. Out loud.

I should mention that while I’m no Celine Dione, I ain’t too shabby either. I can carry a tune, I’ve just never had the interest to go beyond that and so my voice is, shall we say, untrained.

I then heard M say:

“Aunt Fancythis, can you please stop singing?”

“Why?” (yes, that was my response, she brings it out of me)

“Because,” she said “I don’t like your voice.”

How’s school going?

It’s great! I LOVE it!

I love all (3) of my classes, my professors, and I can’t get enough of each class. When one class is over, I can’t believe it and wait with bated breath for the next one.

Hello, my name is fancythis, and I’m a total dork.

Who knew that college could be this much fun without all of the extra-curricular activities? I seriously love what I’m learning and feel like I’m doing a pretty good job so far. I actually sit in the front of the classroom on purpose.

Please remove all images of nerdy glasses and pocket protectors from your brain right now please. I’m not that bad.

But I do love this. So, why did it take me so long to go?

So Sunday night I went to Wal-mart with my sister to pick up some odds and ends.

After about a half hour of shopping, an employee informs the store via intercom that the store will be closing in 6 minutes. (As an aside, don’t you find the 6-minute countdown rather odd? I mean, 10 minutes, sure, 5 minutes understandable, but 6? How very random!) No problem, we’ve got all of our purchases, and make our way to the checkout.

When we arrive at the checkout we discover that there are 3 registers open. Two of them are the “15 items or less” registers and the other is just a regular one. We opt for the regular one because the line is just a smidge shorter and the people in front of us don’t seem to have much in their carts.

Sister walks up to the line and stops behind a (black) family. As soon as she stops, the cashier (who is a youngish black girl) looks up at my sister, flicks her register’s light off and tells her that she’s closed and she needs to go to another line. Perturbed, but not finding the necessity in creating drama, we scoot ourselves down to the nearest line and pay for our things.

After completing our purchase, we walked passed the girl who had rejected us earlier, and lo and behold, she was waiting on someone in her line. This girl she was waiting on was also a black girl who not only didn’t work there, but she was not part of the family who were in front of us when we first approached this girl’s register.

So her line was closed for us because……we’re white?

I find that there really isn’t any other explanation. And you can bet your bottom dollar that Wal-mart will be receiving a letter from little ol’ me. Both corporate, and the local store who clearly have no standards when it comes to hiring anyone.

I don’t expect to find the brightest of the bright working for Wal-mart, but I expect decency from anyone at the very least, regardless of my skin color.

Before Luke left, lots of people told me (to some effect, not these exact words) that I needed to live like he was never here and like he’ll never come back.

It sounds harsh, but let me explain.

Basically, I need to re-do my little quirks; quirks that I’ve developed since we got married.

When I initially heard this advice, I thought to myself, “Self, you will not do that. He is a part of your life, and writing him out of it won’t make you feel better, because it’ll be impossible to live like he’s never left his imprint on you.” He is still around after all, he’s just not around me, so why should I change anything?

2 months into this “deployment” and I get it.

I sleep on “my” side of the bed. I keep his clothes in the closet. Some of his books are still on the bookshelf.

All it has done, all it will continue to do, is make me realize how devistatingly lonely I really am.

Sleeping on my own side only leaves a big spot where he isn’t sleeping. Looking at his clothes every morning when I get dressed only makes me realize that he’s not here to fill them. Leaving his books out only reminds me that it’ll be another 12 months before he tries to read them while I’m distracting him so he can’t.

I need to get rid of all of it if I want to have a shred of sanity left upon his return.

It’s just so hard to let it all go.

His smell is still in the sheets and on his clothes and try as I might, those little pieces of him don’t make him appear whenever I decide I want him around (which is all the time). But they’re still pieces of him.

And they’re all I have.

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not shouting “I’m clean livin’.”
I’m whispering “I was lost,
Now I’m found and forgiven.”

When I say… “I am a Christian”
I’m not holier than thou,
I’m just a simple sinner
Who received God’s good grace, somehow!