For Real.  There really is going to be a touch of adult content on this one.  No nudity or foul language or anything - just some subject matter that is more mature.  So if you are under the age of 18 or my grandmother, please do not click on the link below.  The rest of you, I believe we are all adults and you are safe.

1. Santa brought a puppy for Christmas.  Sunnie.  Or Sunny.  Or Sunni.  I'm still not sure.  She is adorable and fluffy and we love her.  However, I do not do animals in the house except in the kennel because Turnanator has some fairly serious allergy issues and I have some fairly serious mental health issues that should be addressed by a mental health professional, including but not limited to my selective germaphobia.  I am fine with not bathing for 3 days but let one dog hair be on my couch and I'm putting on the curb for sale.  I'm a weirdo.  That's why you read my blog.  Anyway, Sunnie has to live outside during the day but it has been raining for what feels like seven weeks straight, so the poor thing has chewed up everything at my back door and she reeks of wet dog.  Mostly because she is one.  But it is almost more than I can handle.  Currently my whole house, my garage,  and my oldest son also reek.  I promise you, I can smell it when I pull into my driveway and it makes me gag a little.  (more of my mental health issues I'm afraid)

2.  We have been dieting.  I have been hungry.  I have been mean.  I have yelled at my children for things that are not important.  I have punched Aaron in the arm because he judged me for eating one small slice of cheese on what was otherwise an entirely boring and awful wheat bread sandwich.  I hate dieting.  I love things made with crisco.  I have in one week lost 6 and 1/2 pounds.  Don't get excited.  I was bloatie last week.  Plus, when you have no less than 75 pounds to lose so your body fat percentage will be under 97%, 6 and 1/2 pounds is merely a drop in the proverbial bucket. 

3.  I miss poptarts.  You know you're hungry when you're older than ten and you miss pop tarts.

4.  This year for New Years, Aaron made a resolution that proves just how wonderful he is, just how awful I am, and just how he's a big jerk for rubbing his "better than me-ness" in my face.  Well, he's not really a jerk - just a guy who wishes he always had clean work clothes, but Aaron has decided that he will be the person that does the laundry.  At first this made me angry and annoyed (please see the two times previous post for reasons) but then I decided it was awesome.  So I'm just going to ride this train as long as it lasts and see how it plays out.  He still requires me to help put away clothes (which is still entirely dreadful), but at least I'm not doing the folding any more.  He only works 12 to 14 hours per day at an incredibly stressful job and then is the college minister at our church on the side.  I figure he has plenty of free time and energy to do the laundry for a family of five.  (I feel a healthy mix of happiness and shame people)

5.  In case we are not friends on facebook and you missed this important announcement - the silica gel packets that come in things such as shoe boxes and new purses are NOT, in fact, poisonous.  Even if you are a 28 pound, two-year-old girl who ate two of them out of your  mother's new messenger bag.  Even if they say on the outside of the packet in bold words "DO NOT EAT".  Still.  They aren't poisonous.  Yay.  Yay for things that aren't toxic.

6.  The following is the thing I was talking about earlier.  The mature, adult type thing.  Like most everything else in my life - I am probably way behind and most of you have already seen this, but for the few that haven't......  My brother and sister-in-law introduced me to Flight of the Conchords (well I had heard of them but never actually heard them) over the holidays.  They are a comedy, singing duo from New Zealand and they had a show on HBO for a while.  Not sure I would recommend you watch all of their stuff, but this one song is hilarious (at least to us) and is so fitting for married couples.  If this is not funny to you, then you have not been married long enough and don't have enough kids yet.  Give it time.  (p.s. - it's about sex if you haven't figured it out.  I don't want to offend anyone so please don't watch it if that's the kind of thing that stresses you out or if your seven-year-old is standing over your shoulder. Thanks)
 
    Do you ever feel like you're drowning in a sea of stuff that needs doing and you literally cannot make yourself get with it?  It's all your fault, probably, that there is so much to do because you procrastinated in the first place but that doesn't really matter.  What matters is that everywhere you look in your house there is stuff that needs to be done.  There are new toys and clothes everywhere - as in, cannot walk across your kids' bedrooms, everywhere.  All your Christmas decorations are still up.  The laundry has just brought you three and a half seconds away from an actual divorce.  There is a laundry basket full of paperwork and overdue bills that need to be sorted in your room that's been there since the week before Thanksgiving.  Santa brought a new dog and now your whole house smells atrocious.  And that's all you really want to do is take a day off and pin stuff on Pinterest.  I mean, don't you get a Christmas vacation too?

    Mind you, I'm talking about you, not me, being in this situation.  I would never get myself in such a dilemma.  So what would you do?  Avoid all that stuff that needs to be done.  And complain probably.  About stuff that doesn't even matter.  Yeah, definitely you would complain about all the stuff that is wrong with your life.  Like the fact that the front of your house is so flat and there are no flower beds and the curb appeal is at an overwhelming zero and apparently you are the only one concerned with that so you absolutely have to spend all your time today worrying about it rather than putting the glitter Christmas trees back in their boxes.  You would complain about the fact that your bathroom with it's almond toilet has been disgusting for too long and you would avoid laundry by going to the local tile store and looking for over an hour today at tile you cannot afford to buy even though you love it because it is $14 per square foot.  You would probably even storm around in anger when you find that your sick two-year-old daughter wiped her actual tongue with a clorox wipe that had just seconds previous been used to removed puppy feces off of your living room floor.  Yeah, that one would probably really tear you up for a good while.  So you would complain about it all, I'm sure, and avoid anything that resembled housework - including but not limited to cooking for your family. 

    The next thing you would do, probably, if it were you in this situation - not me for sure - is get insanely and inexplicably angry at your husband for folding the laundry.  The stupid way his stupid self is rubbing it in your stupid face that he is a better stupid person than you that can actually do the stupid laundry without feeling like he is stupidly going to die of stupid torture.  Stupid.  Then you would probably say something terribly mean just because you wanted to make him mad - all because he was being a big jerk and folding that laundry so stupidly.  And it would probably work.  And things might become slightly confrontational.

    Then you would feel bad.  Because really, if the worst thing your poor husband does all week is fold 5 loads of laundry, can he really be all that stupidly bad?  Probably notsomuch.

    And that's pretty much what you would do if you were a crazy lady that was feeling overwhelmedish because you procrastinate.  And hate laundry with a fiery passion that burns. 

    Wow.  It's a good thing I'm not like you.

 
    Occasionally I find myself upset about something (more often than not, AT Aaron over something dumb when this occurs) and I tell him I am fine.  I act fine, I reassure him I am fine, I pretend to be annoyed when he questions my "fineness".  Then I leave the room.  I go change over the laundry, and I empty the dishwasher, and I get on the computer and facebook stalk for a while.  Then I get all upset and torn up inside that he didn't know that I wasn't fine even though I said I was.  Or even worse - he knew I wasn't fine but didn't care enough about it to come baby me through the whole stupid episode.  Then I sulk.  I am a crazy head-games kind of lady like that.  It's true.  I am just glad God saw fit to put me with someone who just loves me anyway.


    But just a piece of advice - Don't be like me.  Usually it's more trouble than it's worth.

Enlightening the world one crazy lady trait at a time,

Cassie


p.s. - don't judge my crazy.  I'm just putting it out there so you can feel better about yours ;-)
    



 
1.  My son said two hilarious things and I laughed all day about them.
2.  My daughter acted in a way that I can only describe as demonic.  Twice.
3.  I finally broke my husband and his streak of kindness when it comes to remodeling the house.  I gave in.
     It was not worth the marital strife.
4.  My face imploded, then exploded, then oozed.

    Second things first - I tried to cut Destruct-o-girl's razor sharp fingernails today, and it was nothing short of a miracle that we both made it out alive.  There was so much screaming and writhing and kicking and hitting and screaming and screaming, that I literally took it way, way personal.  Way.  There was no way she was winning.  I ended up pinning her down on my bed and holding her hand out, pinned with my elbow.  The whole ridiculous process took a good 20 minutes.  Insane.  Then she pulled the same stunt when her daddy tried to get her to go to bed tonight.  Head spinning.  Pea soup.  The whole thing.  So just out of curiosity, anyone know any good exorcists?  Otherwise I don't know what I'm going to do.  We don't really have a plan B.  

    Next, I just need to admit it.......I am a bit of a remodel addict.  Just a bit.  Our house is nothing special, but we love it.  It has a great back yard and enough space for our family (even though I can't stop dreaming of the "bonus/play room addition" swirling in my head), but it was built in the 70's.  And when we bought it, it basically looked like 1978 had thrown up in here.  There was a lot of wallpaper and some linoleum and quite a bit of wallpaper.  And did I mention the miles and miles of wallpaper?  Think - giant blue and pink flowers with Eiffel towers embosses in them.  Textured vinyl with grapes.  Niiiiiice.  Anyway, so Aaron and I have become quite the DIY experts in the past 3 years.  We have slowly but surely redone almost every space of this house.  Tomorrow starts the carpet.  A local business is installing it, and they are letting me do it just a room or two at a time for two reasons.  1. I have nowhere to put all the cleared out furniture and stuff all at once and 2. While the rooms are empty I am wanting to scrape and repaint the hideous popcorn ceilings.  I just hate them so much and they are so low in this house I feel like I stare at them all the time.  Gross.  So today, to try and keep Aaron from having to do so much tonight, the boys and I moved all the furniture out of the living room (including a piano) and I began scraping the ceiling.  I get it just over half way done before church, so tonight Aaron and I had to finish scraping and then paint and then remove old carpet before they show up tomorrow to install the new.  And let me just say that it took longer than planned.  And let me just say that my wonderful husband had a small come apart and told me that "he better not come home and find out that I've scraped another ceiling.  Ever.".  And let me just say that for the sake of my marriage and as a thank-you for all that he does do without complaining -   Aaron wins.  He can have that one.  I have decided that it is not worth the trouble or the mess or the discord, and I hearby declare the living room to be the last ceiling I scrape for a long, long time.

    Now on to the oozing face.  My man gets up crazy early for work every morning (think - 4:45) and because of the ceiling situation, he didn't get to bed until after midnight.  (he loves me)  So to hurry him along, I told him I would rip out the old carpet myself.  So you know how some people have that one thing that they are righteously allergic to?  Mine is mice.  Yuck, right?  But so true.  I can tell if a mouse has touched something years after it's been there.  And apparenly mice have been here.  Actually I know they have because we caught several right after moving here since the house sat empty for months over the winter.  So when I pulled the carpet out of the back of the linen/water heater closet, it took about 13 seconds for me to sense the mice and feel my eyes swell, and my face tighten.  The 34 years of dust, mites, and general carpet funk did not help either, and the flood gates of my sinuses were literally blown open.  Snot, sneezing, my eyes swelling nearly inside out.  Nice thoughts huh?  So moral of that story is - I actually showered twice today (record book acomplishment) and old carpet is disgusting.   

    And lastly, back to the first thing.  Today Super G informed me , "I have asthma in both of my ears".  Fabulous.  I'm not quite sure what you do about that but it sounds complicated.  Then later when he and Turnanator were helping me move furniture, I was telling them to be careful.  And he looks at his brother and says "you have to be really careful because this stuff is really old.  It was made in the 90's".  Again - fabulous.  Thanks for the chuckles kid. 

Love you like someone that does not projectile vomit pea soup, 
Cassie

    
 
    Many of you have already heard this story, so if you have just skip ahead a few lines or suck it up and hear it again.  But for those of you who haven't...................................The first day of class my freshman year at Mississippi State was on a Monday.  I had moved into my dorm room that Saturday before and went to church in Starkville that weekend.  That Sunday night as I walked into services, I was handed a schedule of events for college students by a tall, handsome, dark haired guy.  He had a sweet smile and was friendly and I thought he was cute immediately.  Over the next few weeks I got to know him a little better, and even though he was a senior (and apparently a very popular one) and I thought that I had no chance, I really thought he was great.  In fact I went home for the weekend after two weeks at school and told my mom, "I've met the boy I'm going to marry.  He just doesn't know it yet."  Fast forward 12 years, two college degrees, four jobs, six towns, five houses, and three kids. 
Picture
this is a pic of a pic. the dots at the bottom are reflection.
    May 18.  Nine years ago today we took the plunge.  And second only to my decision to be a Christian, it was hands down the best move I ever made.  I am quite possibly the luckiest girl alive.  I'm sorry to get all gushy on here today (and I know Aaron is cringing reading all this goo), but it is all true.  We have not always been sunshine and butterflies and fairy dust (think two babies in 16 months, one with colic, night shift, church responsibilities, new house, no money, weight gain, bloating, gas), but here we are better for it.  It's funny how the longer you are together, the more bad you see of each other, and yet the stronger the love is.  I still feel really young, and I feel silly acting like I am wise enough to give marriage advice to anyone.  And now we are getting to the age where we are seeing a lot of friends' marriages crumble.  It's scary out there in the real world.  But I so so want to be "that" couple one day.  You know the one.  The older couple at church who you can truly tell still loves each other.  The couple that 30 year-olds like me want to be.  About a year and a half ago we went to visit an elderly couple from church.  Both in their 90's, they were still at home caring for themselves even though she had Alzheimers.  She was lovely and kind and hospitable just forgetful and easily confused.  As Aaron and the man sat visiting, I sat and talked with the sweet woman often repeating conversations over and over.  Her husband kept stopping his visit to listen to her, and one time she caught him.  She playfully said, "Ed, what do you think you are looking at?".  And he got a genuine, loving, deep, but sadly knowing smile across his face and said, "My wife.  I'm just looking at my wife".  It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.  I want to be that one day.
    So in honor of the first nine years of our story together, I've decided to list nine reasons why I love Aaron.  (by the way, talking about him like this makes his hind end cringe.  he's not good with pda.  but it has to be done.  I only get this opportunity once a year)

9.  He will eat anything.  Seriously I can cook rotel chicken, waffles, artichokes, frozen pizza, last night's leftovers, hot dogs, livers, couscous, or pickled okra.  He will eat it.  It totally makes my life easier.

8.  He has a wonderful family.  You know the saying about how when you get married you marry the whole family?  Yeah, that has not been a problem for me.  They are fabulous and treat me like I've been there always. They even understand that I am moody and sometimes hard to deal with.  They are ok with it, they accept it, they love me anyway.

7.  He works really, really hard for us.  If you know Aaron at all then you know he works a lot so that I can stay home with my babies.  I don't tell him enough how much I appreciate that, and in fact I have been known to complain about his hours.  Let me just use this blog to publicly say I am sorry for ever complaining!  He is great about it and even works nonstop at home too.  He keeps our house, yard, and pool up and beautiful too. 

6.  He is a fabulous gift giver.  I have to honestly say that I cannot think of a single holiday in the last 9 years that I have been disappointed.  I, on the other hand, am a terrible gifter.  Poor guy.  But he's got a lot of golf shirts.

5.  He lets/helps me remodel our house constantly.  He comes home from work and I surprise him with a ripped out laundry room - walls, floors, all of it - and he doesn't even complain.  He just changes clothes and stays up all night scraping linoleum. 

4.  He does dishes and folds laundry.  Not every time, but a lot.  And he doesn't even complain.

3.  He is a wonderful, hands on, involved, loving, wise, teaching, fabulous, awesome father.  My kids are so blessed to have a daddy who is so wonderful with them.  I think I am actually a bit niave about how great I have it as the mother of his kids.  He is a huge help to me all the time.

2.  He loves me.  I hate taking showers and wearing make-up.  I am not great at housekeeping.  I am terrible at laundry.  I fuss at him about his driving every time we take a trip.  I had three kids and gained weight.  I don't keep receipts.  I don't do well at following his meticulous budget.  I grow mold in my fridge.  I am totally unathletic.  I cry about everything.  And he loves me anyway.  Every day he gets off work, and he calls me to tell me he's on his way, and then he shows up.  Despite the fact that all the above is true and his kids are sometimes bad and the yard is a foot tall and Destruct-o-girl won't quit crying, he comes home anyway.  And he gives me a kiss.  And he makes my heart beat fast every time he walks in the door.  My mama told me one time, "you can just tell he loves you.  you are very lucky.".  It's true.  I am. 

1.  He is the best example of a Christian husband and father that I have ever known.  He loves God more than anything, and that makes him better at everything.  Most people have goals in life, and he is no different.  It's just that his only goal is to go to Heaven one day and take me and our children with him.  After that everything else just seems to fall into place.

    How I was blessed enough to become the wife of this wonderful man I will never really know, but I am thankful every day.  So on this day, the eighteenth of May, I just want to say - sorry to rub it in ya'lls faces but I've pretty much got the rockinest husband ever!