Getting My Z's

What is it about your bed that you love? My bed is a crappy bed, yet when I'm away from it for even one night I can't wait to be back sleeping in it.

My bed was given to me from my mom and dad as a housewarming gift. Bless their hearts. But the matress is terrible. My husband and I have been sleeping in this bed for almost 8 years. We've carved out our body shapes into each side of the bed. We complain every morning about getting a new matress. I've tried quilted matress pads, egg crate foam pads, memory foam pads. Nothing has changed my first morning thought, "We need a new bed." I've resorted to sleeping "upside down" on my side of the bed. Meaning, my head is at the foot of the bed. I'm lying to myself by thinking I sleep better this way. I don't, I just like to think I do.

I just spent an entire weekend away from my crappy, slouchy, spring coiled bed. I've slept in heavenly bliss last night. Yet I woke with the thought, "I can't wait until we get a new bed."

Happy New Year!

It's the 4th day of 2010. Happy belated New Year to all. This year I've set before me a list of resolutions. This is no different than years past. I don't think I've followed through an entire year with a single resolution. Why is that I wonder? Perhaps it's fear of not succeeding. Or maybe it's simply because I don't take myself seriously.

I look back on 2009 and think of what became of it for me. Another year of a successful marriage. Another year with family and friends. Another year of asthma. Another year of diabetes. Another year of being overweight.

Well, 2010 will probably hold much of the same. But I've made a promise to myself and to God to be a healthier me. Not just physically but mentally and spiritually as well. The bible tells us, "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body." I've promised myself and God to honor Him with my body. Will I fall short of this? Most definitely. But I cannot have success without failure.

I'm a bargain shopper. I always have been. I'm thrifty. I've been known to purchase complete outfits for less than $10. Yes, I said less than $10. When I was younger this was of the upmost importance as most of my money needed to be saved for going out with friends and drinking until dawn. Today it's a matter of the lack of money. You see, now I have things to pay for like a mortgage, electric bills, water bills, insurance, cable, groceries, dog food, etc. So the other day when I realized I have no winter clothes that fit (this is due to the fact that I've lost 42 pounds and all my clothes are too large), I headed to the thrift store.

Upon entering the store I noticed I had my work cut out for me. Shirts, pants, sweaters, pajamas, skirts, bathrobes - you name it - wereall mixed together on the racks by color. Not size. Color. Imagine my joy. I had to go through every single hanger and read labels on every single article of clothing.

Two hours later, with my cart overflowing with clothes, I headed to the dressing rooms. When I reached the dressing rooms, I was kindly informed that I was only allowed to take six...SIX...items with me. I selected my first six items and started trying on clothes. As I finished and stepped out to retrieve an additional six items I noticed that my shopping cart had a lot more clothing in it than when I left it. Hmmm. Yes, someone or everyone, took it upon themselves to unload their unwanted items in my cart. While I was sorting through this added task, I was kindly reminded again that I was only allowed to take six items in with me. My response was to stare at the clerk like a deer caught in the headlights. Did she really think I was going to try on the toddler size jumper?

After several trips into the dressing rooms, I left with three shirts and two pair of pants. All for just under $20. Not bad. And since my plan is to continue to lose weight, I'll be back at the thrift store again. Only next time, I'll make sure to only load my cart with six items at a time.

My Peanut

I am the proud momma of a two year old Chihuahua/Jack Russel Terrier. Her name is Peanut. We rescued her from the local animal control shelter. Had we not adopted her, she would have been euthanized. I can not imagine my life without her. Although, I do seem to remember life was much more quiet before she became the fourth member of our family.

You see, Peanut believes she must be the protector of the household. She is the smallest and therefore must compensate by being the loudest. She barks at everything. And I mean everything. She barks when I vacuum. She barks when my husband cuts the grass. She barks at the mailman. She barks at the people walking down the street. She barks at the neighbor's dogs. She barks at the spiders on the ceiling. She is constantly letting us know something is happening somewhere. When she is quiet...she's causing trouble.

After work one day I walked into the house to find that there had been a re-enactment of the Boston Tea Party in my kitchen. Somehow Peanut managed to get up onto the kitchen counter and open my tea canister. Five hundred tea bags were ripped to shreds. As I stood gaping at the mess, Peanut ran circles around me. Of course she did. She was high on caffeine.

I've made many emergency phone calls to the vet. Peanut has consumed multi-vitamins, birth control pills, anti-depressants, diabetic and kidney medication. Not once did she ever have any kind of reaction. Her vet is dumb-struck as am I. Of course, now we keep the medication in a locked cabinet so Peanut can't get into it.

Not too long ago, I walked into the house and found that it had snowed. It was 86 degrees outside, but it had snowed in my living room. Peanut had found her way into the bathroom and discovered my package of maxi pads. That's right, I said maxi pads. Do you know how incredibly hard it is to vacuum maxi pad cotton?

Ah, but she is a snuggler. If you're having a bad day, she'll snuggle right up to you. She's so eager to be loved on and give love back. She'll crawl right up onto your chest and wrap her head around your neck. It's like she's giving you her version of a hug. I wouldn't trade those moments for anything. I'll take cleaning up tea bags and vacuuming maxi pads anytime when I know my reward is the unconditional love I get from my Peanut.

Girls Hunt Too!

Last deer hunting season my husband woke at 5:00 a.m. to brave the wind and the cold as he tracked his way out to his deer stand. I woke with him and wished him luck on his opening hunt. I tidied our little cabin and anxiously waited for his return.

Two hours later he arrived home empty handed, hungry and cold. I fixed breakfast and we watched the snow start to fall outside. Casually I asked him how cold it was outside. He said, "Pretty cold. Why? You want to try it?" Mmmmmm...."Maybe." I reply.

Shortly after breakfast, I laid down for a nap. When I woke up, my husband was dressing to head back out for more hunting. He asked if I wanted to tag along. He explained to me there was a deer stand close by that we could both sit in comfortably. I thought to myself, why not? I would finally get a chance to see what all the fuss was about.

We hiked out to the deer stand. It was 20 feet in the air. I looked at my husband and said, "Uh, no way. I have to climb a tree?!" He just laughed at me and said I could use the stairs if I preferred. "Oh," was all I could muster in response.

Once we were settled in the stand, I wondered how long we'd wait to see a deer. My husband was gracious enough to let me use his binoculars so I could look around. As I adjusted to using the binoculars, I realized how quiet and peaceful the woods were. There was a different pace about the woods with squirrels running from tree to tree and birds flitting about. I noticed I couldn't hear cars running, trains whistling, sirens blowing, dogs barking, or planes flying overhead. Instead I heard leaves rustling in the breeze, birds chirping their songs, squirrels gathering acorns, and the sound of my own heart beating. It was amazing. At that moment I had a glimpse of what God had in mind as He set forth and created the earth and life.

As I sat soaking in all God's wonder, something caught my eye. I looked through my binoculars and there she was. A doe. So beautiful. I quietly motioned to my husband. Just as he raised his rifle to shoot, she moved. Swiftly, graceful. From that moment I was hooked. I knew now why hunting was so important to my husband.

This year I'm preparing to be the huntress in the woods. I've got my blaze orange. I've got my rifle. All I need now is my perfect spot in the woods.

Shoes

"Cinderella is proof that a single pair of shoes can change your life." I'm not sure who said that but I like it.

I've been known to be a bit of a shoe-hound. I have several pair. I currently only have 21 pair. When I married, my husband told me I needed to get rid of some shoes. I boldly went through my 43 pair at the time and very reluctantly tossed out 13 pair. I was, of course, heart broken and within a week had purchased 2 new pair to fill in the empty spaces in my closet.

I admit, I can go overboard. I've been known to purchase a pair of shoes that will simply go with only 1 outfit. What's a girl to do? And what girl can pass up a buy 1, get 1 half off sale? I'm trying to be a bit more conservative when I shoe shop, after all we're in a recession. To prove my point, I just purchased a super cute heel on sale for $10.99, marked down over 50% off. Can you believe it? When I showed my husband he stated, "Don't you already have those?" I said, "Honey! Those are black leather. These are brown suede. Totally different shoes." He simply rolled his eyes and sighed as he knew he was defeated in any argument he may have wanted to incur.

Shoes are like comfort food. They give pure satisfaction and unconditional love. The bonus is there is no caloric intake. This makes them even more coveted. BoGo anyone?

Firefighter's Wife

I am a firefighter's wife. A volunteer firefighter's wife, I may add. There is a difference. All firefighter's wives carry the burden of worry as their husbands respond to the call of duty, but a volunteer firefighter's wife hears every page that is called out. We carry an extra burden called knowledge. We know if a grass fire is burning out of control and families need to evacuate. We know if there is a serious car accident with possible fatalities. We know if someone's loved one is lost in the woods when the temperature is subzero. Not only do we worry of the potential dangers our husbands face, we also worry about the families our husbands are serving.

There is a special camaraderie when you are a firefighter's wife. There is an unspoken word that's shared, for each of us knows the others fears. There is a pride we carry deep in our hearts, but we dare not boast. We are fervent prayer warriors, as prayers are lifted at every page, "Keep him safe, oh Lord, and bring him home to me."

I used to resent being a firefighter's wife. I couldn't understand why my husband could devote so much of himself to a job. I told myself countless times that he loved the job more than me. I know now that isn't the truth. He doesn't do the job because he loves me less, he does the job because I love him. Loving him gives him the strength to do the job. Firefighting is his passion and it's who he is. I couldn't ask him to turn away from himself.

As I write these thoughts, the pager goes off. Grass fire in Mayhew township, section 18. "Keep him safe, oh Lord, and bring him home to me."