The End Is Here

Don't look at your calendar, it's not December 21, 2012.

The end of November Blog Posting Month has finally arrived.

I'd like to thank you wonderfully patient people who allowed me to clog up your readers and drivel on about nothingness. I'd like to hug you for actually commenting on my nothingness and for the sweet, supportive emails. I'd like to kiss you...

if you looked like Simon Lappin
(just joking, Hubby)

I'd also like to say all of this writing was good for me, but it will take a few days of solitude for me to really say something like that (with a little feeling behind the words).

I honestly missed reading. REALLY missed it. I look forward to catching up.

oh. I just realized I missed my 3-year Blogiversary as well...

You and I? We're friends.
Only a good friend would've stuck by me when I was posting nonsense.

Thank you.

Congrats to all of you who successfully completed the NaBloPoMo challenge and to all of you who may have chosen the better path-- actually paying attention to your loved ones instead.

Now that the end is here, go out and play!
Or eat some chocolate,
I've got a tree to decorate with my kids.

29 Bottles of Crazy on the Wall...

Twenty-nine post in as many days...

It would be sad to go out sniveling, so let's see if I can wrap this month up with a bang, shall we?

What I didn't write about this November:

• The many times my newly housebroken child wee'd on the floor-- and then ran through it in stockinged feet, leaving pee footprints across my tiled floors. and carpet.
  

• How my children managed to avoid Typhoid Mary one Sunday and we're one of the few families unaffected by Hand, Foot and Mouth disease. (oh dear, where's some wood to touch???)
  

• I didn't tell you that the days leading up to Thanksgiving were some of the hardest I've had to deal with this year. The phone rang incessantly and my Wednesday cooking/baking went unfinished as I rushed to a woman's side. Her husband that was recovering so well from a cancer removal surgery had an infection and the hospital called to tell her to prepare herself for his death. He's still fighting as I write this post.

• On the same day, #1 Son phoned to say he was tackling the 15-hour drive to my parents as they rushed their beloved little doggy to a specialist. He's 17 years old (the dog) and the absolute center of their world. My Step-dad (who I have written about and love dearly) was a mess. Knowing he was a mess was the "straw" for me. "Petey" survived the surgery to repair 3 herniated disks, is recovering at home and Oldest Son arrived safely.
  

• Husband is desperately behind on his two University Online courses and because of it, it's like he's deployed except that I still have to do his laundry. and buy enough groceries. and his alarm clock wakes me at 4.45.

• We spent a small fortune to take the kids to something that people told us we "HAVE to go see" while in England. They grumbled through it and we drove home not speaking to each other. Fun times. I'm not listening to anyone else when they give us "tips".
  

• Remember when I moved house after Christmas last year? I have dreaded unpacking the hastily packaged Christmas items...with good reason. Three broken items so far in the couple of boxes opened.

This may all seem like I am sniveling,
but if that's what you read, you've missed the point.
Let me summarize:

• All of my children are well-- well enough to grumble, ruin my carpet and drive hundreds of miles to hold a Grandpa's hand.

• My woman-friend's children are all here, fussing and fighting as usual, but since her hubby is doing surprisingly well, she's comfortable in telling them to "Go home!".

• My parents have dodged that inevitable bullet one more time and are home with the dog with nine lives.

• Oldest Son is healthy, safe and has survived (one of the two) first holidays without us and the Hubby is here (distracted, but here) for the holidays.

• I am not moving. I don't have to pack.

• I am one blog post away from never doing NaBloPoMo again.

See?
It's all in how you look at it.

My life is half-full.

Never Write Never

WITH ONLY TWO DAYS REMAINING of NaBloPoMo,
I was going to tell you that there have been only two days that I felt pressured to get out here and post. I was prepared to argue that even though it's not very nice to clog up people's readers, that for the most part people are tolerant.

But something in the back of my mind was nagging at me, so I did a little research...
Here's what I said at the end of this 30-day post insanity last year (I'll save you from clicking on the actual post):


"Never agree to 30 posts in 30 days.
I mean, if you can do it, more power to you. But if you find you're typing while your children's giggles are slipping by, it's probably not worth it.

A couple of things I learned from being out here each day is:

There sure is a lack of tolerance for each other's creativity.

For instance, the music divide. Wow. Who would've guessed people could get so upset about music being on a blog? Here's my theory (and you'll notice my music was turned off a month ago), a person's blog is an expression of who they are. Music and the careful timing of songs with posts MAY be the one joyful, self-indulgent thing they did all day. Is it so hard for the anti-music folks to just turn the volume down? And yes, sometimes the music conflicts with a video or with your own itunes player... yaddah yaddah yaddah, but if it's so much bother, don't go there. If their blog is SO intriguing that you can't stand to miss a post, well, I think you know what you need to do.

The second thing was the Nablopomo. I really, seriously considered NOT doing it because for some reason people feel that they must read every post to be a loyal follower. That's a huge demand for someone reading 30+ blogs daily. Then I realized, I didn't start blogging to gain readers, I started it as an outlet for some repressed emotions. I decided I wasn't going to freak out if people didn't make it over for every post (to be truthful I didn't make it over for every post-- some were scheduled). I watched followers drop like flies and my feelings weren't hurt. I understood.

So, in summary. It was good. and bad. and I'm not doing it next year."

Yeah... so my memory is not so good. This is a terrific argument for journaling your memories, but an even better one to read what you write occasionally. I will tell you what my plans are for NEXT year:

I plan to read blogs for the month. That's what I'm missing the most about this go. I can't believe how much I missed hearing about what was happening in everyone else's world.

I wonder if I will have an easier time remembering this if I have it tattooed to my forehead.

When's the Last Time You Gave in to the Silly Urge?

This post may self-destruct, since I'm still waiting for permission to post this picture (patience is my New Year's goal -- for the 25th year running)...

21st bday celebration

(I'm thankful that my son is recovering from his heartbreak)

I'm thankful that all of the terrible things that were happening the last few days paused (for the most part) until my family had Thanksgiving dinner. No details, but yesterday was the first day this week I didn't have to close myself off in a room to take a cry break.

I should take a cue from #1 Son and do something completely unpredictable and silly. I mean seriously, when's the last time your very-male child donned a blue wig and some lippy?

He's SO gonna regret emailing this picture to me.

What Are You Thankful For?

Wishing you wealth of family and friendships and a peaceful time to reflect on the things you are grateful for. Happy Thanksgiving!