I’ve said that off and on for years as I suffer through anxiety attacks and insomnia. I’ll go through bad phases where I’ll seriously consider finding a therapist, and then I’ll start to feel better and the urgency fades. I’ve realized lately, however, that I owe the previous years of coping to you. Somehow, having you to call always helped. Even if I didn’t discuss with you the actual issues stressing me out, just talking to you about anything always helped. Just knowing you were there when I needed to talk, whether or not I actually did, this did more for me than I ever realized.

“My head’s not on straight right now.”

I’ve used that phrase a lot lately, talking to family and friends. I’m depressed. I’m anxious. I’m not sleeping. I’m eating non-stop and I’m struggling with any level of patience. And it’s your fault. I drove around this weekend thinking about the weekends in my life I’ve done just that while talking to you. I’m not sure why, but I always liked to call you when I was driving around town. Maybe the pointless drives reminded me of you. Maybe I just liked the privacy of my car. Either way, most of our phone calls were done with me driving around Huntsville. And this weekend? I needed you. I needed to call you to tell you what’s been on my mind lately. I needed you to sigh and tell me that you didn’t know what to tell me. You were always honest that way. I needed you to bitch about the mundane in your life to make me feel better about bitching about the mundane in mine. I needed you to praise me for something. Anything, really, because I’ve been a bit down on myself. I needed you to agree with me about how hard parenting is, and about how many times we’re simply flying blind. Hoping we don’t crash into the side of any mountains. I needed you to tell me it would be okay. Or at least tell me you understood.

Your house is being auctioned on Saturday. One year after you were hospitalized with kidney failure from Multiple Myeloma. Your house, the house you died hating, will officially belong to someone else. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to drive by it to see what happens to it. I’ll probably make someone else do it a few times a year, and then have them report back to me. The Map Store down the road closed. I’d like to tell myself it’s because you were no longer there to appreciate it. Even if you never bought anything from there. I know you enjoyed it’s existence on your street.

I just miss you so much. I find myself scrolling through archives in this blog (Dear Blog, I love you.) and touching the screen when I get to pictures of you. I actually reach out and touch your face on the computer monitor. How cheesy is that? I just can’t stop myself. I’m also sleeping with my old Ewok again. You gave it to me for my 10th birthday. I always meant to ask you, “Why?” We weren’t big Star Wars fans or anything, but it became my favorite toy of my childhood. I took it to sleepovers, to trips out of town, and even to college. I slept with it even well into adulthood. Several years ago it got put in with the kids things, I guess, and I no longer needed it to sleep. But a few months ago, I decided to see if it would help me sleep better. I believe it did, a little. Sometimes I just hold it in my arms and think about how you used to come in my room in the mornings before school, take Ewok and animate him to wake me up. “Time to get up, Kim!” You would say, using Ewok as the messenger. You did that with all the stuffed animals you ever came into contact with. I do it too.

Tomorrow marks one year from when it all began. When I got the call from your doctor that would lead to you going to the hospital, getting diagnosed with cancer, and then giving up treatment to end your life in a residential hospice. February 10th. It is a day that carries with it more pain than the day you died, because that was the end of Dad as I knew you. After that you were sick. And dying. I think that’s why I’ve been in such a funk. The painful anniversaries are rolling in left and right now. Putting me right back in the same mind I was this time last year. Saying goodbye to you.

I miss you, Dad. I don’t think there will ever be a day where I don’t think it. I need your counsel. I need your advice. I need your hugs. And since you’re not here to give them to me, maybe I’ll finally look for that therapist I’ve been talking about finding for years.

Or maybe I’ll just open a beer. And only drink half of it. In your honor.

Let’s just pretend there hasn’t been a cessation in posting around here, okay? Let’s pretend that the post below this one was written yesterday! And the one before that? DAY BEFORE! Let’s just all keep in mind that I’ve now been officially blogging for six years. SIX YEARS. As you can see by a glimpse of my dashboard above, I’ve written a lot of entries in those six years. (And I’ve captured a lot of spam, evidently.) So…enough entries that we can forget about the past few days…right? Good. Let’s move on to what’s important. NEW TELEVISION I’M WATCHING!

These are shows I’ve picked up this new year. Either because they’ve just started or because I’m just now getting on the bandwagon. Either way – new shows! And my long-awaited verdict of those new shows. It’s your lucky day.

Life Unexpected I started watching this show when Maureen Ryan compared it to Gilmore Girls. Three episodes in and I really like it. In the same way I liked Gilmore Girls. There’s wit, humor, but also emotion and angst. I struggled a little with how fashionable Lux is (REALLY? She’s from a foster home? Her and her best friend (another foster kid) look like they belong on the cover of Seventeen!) but I struggle with that on a lot of TV shows…it’s one of my things that I like to bitch about. Ask my family. But, aside from her appearance not fitting her backstory, I really like this show. If you’re look for a good family drama? Check it out.

Caprica I have a hard time with movies and TV shows with dark settings. I mean literally dark…lots of grays and little sunshine. That was my number one complaint about Battlestar Galactica…while I loved the stories and characters…the setting depressed me. Caprica offers a much different setting and as a prequel to the BSG series, I gave it a try for the excellent storytelling. So far? I’m very intrigued. It feels like it’s got great potential and I really like most of the characters currently. Especially Lacy who I fell in love with on Kyle XY. I’m not 100% convinced I’ll stick with it, but for now? Since I’m not watching American Idol or the Olympics? It’s a nice show to watch when my other shows aren’t new this week.

United States of Tara I know this show is not new, but MrZ started watching it over the holidays and he finally got me hooked. I had NO desire to watch it as I really didn’t like Weeds and I feared it would be another Screwed Up Family on cable television that I would have an impossible time relating to. While I enjoy a lot of the other characters on Weeds, my hatred of Nancy Botwin kept me from enjoying the show and I finally gave up on it. So…I was hesitant to join Tara and her family. BUT IT’S SO DIFFERENT. Firstly? John Corbett. Who I will forever love as the DJ in Northern Exposure, no matter how many other projects he participates in. He may be creeping into the Best Husbands On TV Club (along with Coach Taylor and Joe Dubois) as he supports Tara in her life with dissociative identity disorder but without meds. I love the entire family. Not to mention the excellent treatment of a storyline involving her gay son and his high school crush. I just love the entire first season and would love to know when the second starts.

Deep End I started watching this strictly for Tina Majorino and I haven’t been disappointed. It’s a cute show. Not at the top of my list, by any means, but a good filler on my schedule when my other shows are on WINTER BREAKS. (What is up with that?) I’m not sure if I’m attached enough to be heartbroken if it doesn’t get renewed, but I do enjoy it currently. It hasn’t gotten me invested yet in any of the characters…it’s just a cute drama to watch when I’m bored or can’t sleep (which has been a lot lately). I could see it becoming more, but for now? Eh. I like it but I’m not telling everyone else to start watching it. So…verdict still out.

What about you? Any new shows you’re watching I should know about?

Because I am going to admit something: I can NOT keep a secret. I mean, I can imagine situations where I could, I guess. And maybe there have been a few times where I’ve kept secrets from some people, but only when I’ve had someone else I could tell. If I can chat about the secret with MrZ or a good friend, then keeping it from everyone else would be easier.

But what if I had to keep a secret from everyone? I don’t think I could do it. So, assuming the same is true in these big name scandals, how do the secrets get kept? How do the people involved not confide in at least one person? Or do you think they do? Is anyone really capable of keeping a secret from everyone?

And then I wonder…what if I had to keep a secret from my husband? He’s essentially my Secret Keeper, I guess. The one I can talk to about anything. When people tell me things they know I’ll at least be telling him, even if I can’t tell anyone else. But – what if I was faced with a secret to keep even from him? Could I do it?
I don’t think I could. I feel like it would eat at me until I was able to get it off my chest. I think I would have to tell the person, “Too bad, he’s going to know.” But I’ve never been faced with that.

So…here’s my question to you. Do you have a Secret Keeper? A person you can tell everything? Have you ever had to keep a secret from that person? Do you think anyone is really capable of keeping a secret or do you think we all secretly tell our Secret Keepers and just hope that, since we’re their Secret Keeper, then the secret won’t spread?

1. Which expensive electronic device do you most often let your older children abuse or your baby drool on?
   Well – my kids have a lot of their own electronics that I try to encourage they use instead of ours. However, I used to sometimes let NikkiZ play games on my cellphone. BUT – since I dropped it and it became a lethal weapon, she is no longer allowed. She’s pretty good on phones though, since she has once of those leapsters, she knows a bit about handling small devices.
2. How many take-out restaurant numbers do you have programmed into your phone?
   One: Marcos. It’s a pizza place near our home that makes REALLY good pizza but it’s not quick so I’ll typically call before I leave the house so that I won’t have to wait too long when I get there.
3. How many hours of television do you so totally not let your kids watch a week?
   I don’t regulate television for my kids currently. My daughter probably watches 1-3hrs a day (I’m trying to be honest here…) and my oldest keeps his TV on all the time, so it’s hard to tell. Even if he’s not paying attention it’s on. I do NOT have a TV in my younger children’s room, however. I have this weird hangup against that until they’re much older.
4. Do you think people who say “we don’t watch television” at play dates but really mean “we just watch DVDs” are lying liars from Liarville?
   I have never had a real “playdate” – so I’m not quite familiar with this issue. HOWEVER, if I was invited to one and they Mother told me that they don’t watch TV…I would take that a little snottily I think. It would rub me the wrong way and if I then found out that DVDs were allowed? I would totally think she was from Liarville.
5. How many miles have you driven with your child and not one device of electronic entertainment in a single car trip?
   Before we had the minivan? 400 miles? Maybe? But since we got the minivan with the DVD player, any trip out of town gets a DVD played. We don’t use the DVD player in the van unless we’re going on a trip so it’s a treat of sorts.
6. What’s your record for calls to the pediatrician or Ask-a-Nurse in a single day?
   I’m not sure but I know it’s more for myself when pregnant than for any of my kids. I’m not hyper-sensitive about sickness, even with my kids. I think it’s how I was raised (never EVER going to the doctor for ANYTHING) but I have never been one to call the pediatrician. And thank GOD my kids have never been too sick. But, If they’re sick enough for me to consider a call? Then they’re sick enough to take in. And I’ve done the Emergency Room run before too in extreme situations. But typically? No calls. For me – on the other hand – when I was pregnant? I called constantly because I save up all of my medical paranoia for everyone in the family and cash it in when I’m carrying child.
7. What’s the sexiest thing your partner could text you after a hard day?
   Let’s have family movie night tonight, and YOU pick the movie!
8. What’s your favorite iPad joke?
   I like the various articles/entries I’ve seen comparing the iPad to things like rocks and stone tablets. They make me giggle.
9. What’s the dumbest parenting tool, gear, gadget or device you ever bought?
   Diaper Genie. I just had a huge issue with keeping the dirty diapers in that thing when the outside garbage is a much better place for them. We just felt really weird storing poop in the room. No matter how “clean” it smelled. And every time we opened it? GAG. So, after just a few weeks we donated it to Goodwill and started the trend of taking dirty diapers directly to the outdoor garbage. Wet ones get thrown in plastic grocery bags (reuse!) and taken out at the end of the day.
10. How many years will it take for your child to become more tech-savvy than you?
    My oldest teaches me tech stuff all the time. My youngest doesn’t know anything yet. My middle? Somewhere in between. I’m thinking by 8 or 9? If kids have access to the technology? They’ll probably have figured most of it out. My son has a friend who has even hacked her iPhone. That’s talent, right there.

I took this picture at the park earlier this week and LOVED the way the blue eyes just POPPED. Unfortunately, his cracker/snot/drool face was a bit disgusting. So…I used some photoshop tools (the bandaid…which probably has a real name) and some of MCP Magic Skin and ta da! Instant napkin! Not perfectly clean, but now the beauty of his eyes is not overshadowed by the crumbs on his face. This went from a kinda cute picture to one of the millions I have hanging around my house. I’m still such a novice but it really is amazing what you can do with Photoshop. I just wanted to share this with those of you who have been around since the days of my Pre-DSLR camera use. I’ve come a long way, Baby!

Although…I still have to constantly look up what SLR stands for. So, you know, not completely awesome yet.

My daughter is a teenager now. In case you were wondering. She described something as, “Freaking KRAZEE!” the other day. She twirls her hair and smacks her lips when she talks. She flips her hair behind her shoulders when she is trying to charm you. She demands freedom of wardrobe selection. She gets together with her friends at school and pretends like their talking on the phone to their boyfriends.

I have no idea if this is normal or not, but I find myself constantly torn between cracking up hysterically or locking her in her room for the next 10 years. Sometimes I wonder if it’s because there’s a steady supply of teenagers coming in and out of our doors. Other times I wonder if it’s the preference of iCarly to Dora. Mostly though, I just think she was born this way. Born with this tenacious attitude that demands attention and a little bit of admiration. I feel like she’s going to be a lot more confident than I ever was, and she already shows having more of a spine than her mother. It’s one of those many times, as a mother, that I find myself both hating a behavior, and admiring it at the same time. As her mother? I feel like this Type-A Confidence is the stuff straight from my nightmares. But looking ahead to her future? I also hope the same traits will allow her to be more headstrong and driven than I am. I’d love that.

As long as – somewhere along the way – she maybe starts to tone down the patterns a bit. I don’t want her to impair the vision of those she works alongside with her bold outfit choices.

That last post was a little serious and I hate leaving that tone as the first entry on my blog so I thought I’d add this cute bathtime photo of AndyZ to lighten the mood a little. Because…Come On! How hysterically adorable is that smile? It almost makes me forget he woke up at 4:20am this morning. FOR THE DAY. And it almost makes me forget that, when I got him out of his crib, he was soaked indicating his diaper was beyond full. And it almost makes me forget that I was too tired to change him so I just put him on my lap (soaked in urine) and fed him his morning yogurt while I drank some coffee to wake up a bit. Evidently Exhausted Zoot does not mind the smell of urine as much as Well-Rested Zoot does.

And then I surf the internet and see what everyone else is doing– the blogs, (how do they write so often?) the Etsy stores, the books published… their pretty houses with dinner on the table every night… and the shame seeps in and the critical voices start howling in my ear. Hurry up, you’re falling behind, you’re blowing it, get your sh*t together…

And then I remember that wait, I am one of those people that others see this way. The superhero character that appears to have it all together, who is doing all that cool stuff (how does she have time for all of that?) and I see how all of these projections are a fiction, something I made up, something we all make up. It is the way we gather evidence, our proof that we are the ones who are not good enough.

I get that SO MUCH. I often cruise these blogs (including hers) and wonder how they do it all. How do they find time to keep such a beautiful home, and how do they know how to make it so beautiful? How do they find time to cook such amazing meals and how did they learn how to do that? How do they write so beautifully and dress so stylishly? How do they keep their eyebrows so groomed and they children so clean? I look at blog after blog (Yes, YOURS TOO) and see something on it that I’m just NOT DOING. And I feel really shitty about that.

But then I think about the other half of what Andrea says. That some people see ME that way. I’ve had plenty of comments and emails asking me how I do it all. I never answer because I don’t know what to say. I either want to say, “I’m not doing anywhere near what I need to be doing…” or I want to say, “Eh…I’m not doing as much as I make it look like I’m doing.” I want to correct them. They are complimenting me and I want to say, “No…no…I’m not worth your praise. But Blogger X,Y, and Z? They are. Look what they’re doing.”

Why DO I do that? Why do I feel like I spend every minute of every day DOING something? And when I do have down time in a day, I criticize myself for it. AndyZ is sleeping and NikkiZ is still at preschool – so I could be doing something like paying bills, or labeling photos, or folding laundry. But I get wrapped up in something on TV and don’t move for two hours. And then…here’s the kicker…I hate myself for it. So, when I run, run, run the other hours of the day – and I’m obviously not going, going going to justify the periodic break – why am I doing it? Why am I constantly doing if I’m not going to let allow myself to have breaks. And if what I’m constantly doing doesn’t make me proud, why am I doing it? Why is it that when I see that YOU made dinner 5 nights in a row, I think you deserve praise and compliments and adoration. Yet, when I do it? I don’t even allow myself some downtime without feeling guilty? Or why don’t I compliment myself more? Or feel PROUD of myself? If I’m going to spend my day DOING THINGS…I should be PROUD of them and of MYSELF, right? Even if it’s just getting the laundry put up for the first time in a month. (What? Don’t you use your laundry room as a closet too?) If I’m going to spend the energy DOING…then I should be PROUD of what I’m doing. And if it doesn’t make me proud…then maybe I should try to find something else to keep me busy.

What do you think? Do you constantly find yourself amazed by other people online yet can’t see yourself in the same glowing light? Do you allow yourself pride in your work? Pride in yourself? Or do you give that pride to other people who are probably struggling with the same things you are?

• AndyZ loves butterfly kisses. You know, the one where you bat your eyelashes against their cheek? Instant giggle inducer. Often he kisses my eyes afterwards, which is so cute it makes my heart melt. He doesn’t do it every time, it’s like he saves it for when he really wants some ice cream.
• If I can’t get him to come to his room for a diaper change? I get down on all fours and offer him a ride on my back. He always obliges then. (And it’s a good workout!) Although, there is a downside to this as he likes it so much sometimes, if I’m just sitting on the floor, he tries to jump on my back for a surprise ride. This often hurts.
• Sometimes NikkiZ and AndyZ are too busy to give me kisses. When I finally get them to come to me for a kiss, I’ll zerbert their lips. They find this hysterical and often will come back for more. AndyZ even tries to do the same to me, but it often just results in me with a mouthful of spit. GLAMOROUS!
• When I drop NikkiZ off at school, sometimes I demand an upside-down kiss. This is me bending at the waist, over her head (from behind her) so that my face is upside-down from hers. Then we kiss. It’s getting harder the taller she gets (as I’m only 5′3″ on a TALL day) but she still gets a kick out of it.
• AndyZ loves, loves lotion. He calls it “Moe-Dee” for some reason. I keep a tube at the changing table and give him a skirt to keep him occupied while I change his diaper. He thinks it’s really funny when I put some on his belly.
• Sometimes I let NikkiZ wear old shirts of mine to bed. She thinks this is a really special (and funny!) treat. I did this the first time out of necessity as we had forgotten to get her PJs out of her room before he brother went to sleep. Now? It’s almost a reward.
• AndyZ also loves chapstick. But this is sometimes a BAD thing as he finds it and eats it when I’m not looking. He actually sees it somewhere now and says, “Eat Eat Chapstick?” (Which, actually sounds like, “Eat Eat Daddy?” – a completely different sentiment.) So, before you introduce this, make sure you know where all of the chapstick you own is. Chapstick poop is gross. TRUST ME ON THAT ONE.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot since the earthquake in Haiti. About how ridiculous I feel for bitching and moaning about not getting enough recognition in my house for the work I do. I mean…I have a house to clean. I have food to cook. I have children who need baths and are not dying on the streets of infections that could have easily been treated with a quick stop at the pediatrician one day. I don’t have to worry about staying alive, so I choose to use the time wisely by complaining about the 20lbs I still need to lose. I stressed out this week when I thought my DVR forgot to record House. And then I stayed awake in bed that night thinking about the children who now have no parents, and the parents who now have no children. How they survived the quake but instead of properly grieving for the loved ones they lost, they have to figure out how they’re going to survive. Where are they going to get shelter? Food? Clean Water? Medicine? They can’t even mourn the loss of their loved ones properly because there’s not time, room, facilities for proper burials. But even if there was…what good would it do with so many deaths? And here I am…griping at my husband about our stupid DVR.

Obviously we can’t spend ever waking moment feeling guilty that we just happened to be born into a privileged situation. And just because we’re blessed doesn’t mean we can’t bitch and moan and complain about getting stains on our “Life Is Good” shirt, or losing one of our favorite hiking socks. But with those images still all over the news, and the telethon from Friday playing on my iPod, I can’t stop thinking about the trivial things in my life that I let upset me, and how they are all First World Problems. I am having trouble with my usual trivial whining (which I do A LOT of, in case you were wondering) because that voice in the back of my head keeps saying: Quit Your Bitchin’.

But…what should I do instead? Obviously we can’t donate gobs of money or time to charity, so I can’t do any real good for these people. Yet the guilt…it’s still keeping me awake at night. The desperate need inside my heart to be a better person, appreciate the blessings in my life, these things have become so strong since the earthquake. I keep telling myself it will all fade as time passes and I’ll be able to get back to complaining about my First World Problems: GUILT FREE! But do I want to? Do I want the images from Haiti to fade from my memory just so I can feel better about bitching about things in my life that are really NOT A BIG DEAL. Because I went through the same emotional crisis after Katrina, and the Tsunami. But those images eventually faded allowing me to go back to my trivial problems and treating them like they ARE VERY IMPORTANT. (Which they’re not.) Or do I want to find a way to take those images this time and use them to make me a better person? Is that even possible?

I’m just wondering if any of you find yourself thinking about these things in the wake of big disasters? Do you find yourself looking at your blessed life (because we are all so very blessed) and feeling guilty for bitching about it? My favorite thing about Torrie’s new site is her About Page where she says, “My old blog had the word “HATE” in the title. I complained a lot. I decided it was time for me to be more positive, more grateful, and set a better example for my daughter.” That is where I’m at. I want to be a better example to my kids and show them with my actions how lucky we really are. Do you do like I do and just wait for all of the guilt you feel after these catastrophic events to fade with time? Or have you ever actually made changes in your life to help resolve the guilt? Or, is this one the many problems unique to me and my extreme guilt issues? Because that wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.

Focus on important things, Mom, like getting this chalk OFF MY ASS. It’s embarrassing.