The past year has taught me lessons; put my life into perspective; made me appreciate my family and friends;  matured me; sculpted me; humbled me; gave me more faith and strengthened my marriage.  Would I ever want to do it over again?  Not for a million dollars.  Since this is a public forum I will not air my dirty laundry but lets just say it was hard.  Very, extremely hard.  But when I look back now I can almost see Gods hands creating this situation for me, for us, because honestly, we needed it.  We needed to be shown that guess what?  We don’t have all the answers.  We don’t have shit figured out.  That the friends I had when I was 12 are still the friends I can count on when things are stacked against me.  That my Mother is a saint sent from heaven and I am blessed that she’s mine. That no matter what goes on, what things are said,  in my family, we will always be family and love one another.  That my dog Ripley was the best dog in the history of the world and I still love and miss her.  That my kids are not perfect, I am not perfect, my house is small, my neighborhood isn’t prestigious, my clothes are simple. BUT WHO CARES?!  I’m happier now then when I had it all.  Or when I THOUGHT I had it all.

Through our struggle I somehow grew stronger and more confident and started my own business.  At first as a means to survive and “escape” from reality but now as something I see as a way to love people.  Use a talent (albeit a non-life changing one) to show God’s love, one bow at a time.

I’ve seen my husband….SEEN him.  The man who I knew but sorta lost.  He has amazed me in every way possible.  He’s always been a catch.  A man women wish their husband was like.  But THIS Man, this Jim, is beyond anything I could imagine.  His support and belief in me is how anything I do is possible.  He tells me daily that I’m a wonderful mother.  That he’s proud of me and my business.  That I’m beautiful.  But, I only wish I could express to him that HE is the impressive one.  He is the most caring, giving, self-sacrificing man, husband and father my eyes have ever seen.  There is nothing that he can’t do and I know that even though we have landed on our feet, we will not only be “ok” but FLOURISH with him at the head of this family.

The lesson that I learned is oddly one that I’ve known all along.  ”The most precious things in life aren’t things.”  Funny thing is that in the old beat-up, shot gun house on Virginia Street that served as my first actual house when I rented it in college was a small wood  heart with this saying painted on it.  I took this little memento with me when I moved out of that house and I have carried it with me in every apartment, duplex, and house I’ve ever lived in since then.  But now, as it sits on my window sill and I do the dishes in this little house (because there is no dishwasher) I realize just how true that really is.

Thank you God.

That’s me and I wear that crown proudly.  Last night I celebrated my 30th birthday with 30 of my closest friends.  The pre-party was a local (and yummy) Mexican restaurant.  I got some pretty risque gifts like “Stripper Pills – release your inner pole dancer” and “Glow in the Dark Lubricant.”  Practical gifts like hand sanitizer and Tide To Go Pen.  There were “grown up” presents like a cute pair of angels from my friend Tess and my Mom got me fleece sheets (ahhhhhh).   And a silly gift that was used all night: a shiny pink and silver crown that read, “Birthday Bitch.”   (thanks Joanna!!)  Yes, I wore it the entire night.

I think the gifts I received are what I am and who I have become over the past 30 years.  I’m lighthearted and love to laugh.  I tend to enjoy the between the sheets athletics with my husband.  I am practical and have grown up.  But, not to the detriment of just relaxing and having a good time.  In my last post I spoke about how I didn’t want to take things or myself too seriously when I turned 30 like it seemed so many I knew had done.  I hope I managed to walk that fine line between being a responsible, bill paying, mother and wife and a fun-loving, social drinking, always laughing, woman who loves life and those she chooses to share it with.

I had such a wonderful time last night.  The perfect way to spend my 30th birthday and I thank my Mr. Tolerable for throwing me a wonderful party.  The friends, wine, karaoke and chicken wings were all fantastic and you are the love of my life now at 30 and forevermore.

The 18th of this month will mark the anniversary of my entrance into this world.  I remember every year on my birthday Mom telling me the story of my birth and the exciting happenings that soon followed.  If she forgot, I would be sure to remind her.  I am the youngest and the only girl.  The gap between my closest brother and myself is 7 years.  I think you know where I am going with this….I was spoiled beyond measure or reason.  I had a happy-go-lucky childhood.  I had the best Mom in the world and it is because of her I am the mother I am today.  I had the best roll model anyone could have.  From birth to about 18 I was a happy girl who knew what she wanted in and out of life.  My how things can change.

I remember being a youthfully stupid 20 year old and thinking how far away 30 seemed.  I would look at “grown ups” around me and think, “30 year old people are just so…..old.”  They had mortgages, jobs, kids, responsibilities and took everything seriously.  I didn’t want to be that way when I turned 30.  I think I did ALL of them except maybe the last.  But, honestly, if this past year is any indication of what my 30′s are going to be like this is the most awesome time of my life.  These are the good ol’ days.

When I was turning 20 I was dating Mr. Good Guy and confused about where my path would lead me.  I was lost, confused, sad and empty.  College was just something to pass the time.  I look at it now as 4 expensive years of extended high school.  Of course, when looking at pictures of my 135 lbs self and can’t help but think, “That would be nice.”  The body is really the only thing I would like to go back to.  But, I know I have “spread out” as my dad would say, due to carrying two beautiful children for 9 months.  The stretch marks, saggy boobs, and big butt are just a few of the rights of passage of being what I am today; a mom.  My dream.  I know some of the Gloria Steinem’s out there say that I am not living to my full potential.  That women for centuries have been fighting so I would not have to “lesson” myself and stay home barefoot and pregnant.  I agree with part of that.  Women have been fighting so that all women have the choice of what they want to do with their lives.  I choose, and relish, being a stay-at-home mother and wife. It’s a little out-of-date.  Probably not hip or cool.  But, I love it.  And, just to toot my own horn a bit, I’m pretty durn good at it.  My husband often tells me I am the most natural mother he’s ever seen.  To that I answer, “nothing I’ve ever done has ever felt so right.”  It’s like breathing.

And to think that there were several years when I did not know if I would ever to realize my dream.  It took over my every thought and prayer.  A commercial, a song, a pregnant lady at the grocery store were all reminders of what I did not have.  My mid 20′s were full of doubt, anger, frustration and sadness because of the infertility.  I was so happy to have found my soul mate.  Until I met Mr. Tolerable I thought the love that songs are written about and movies portray was something made up.  As soon as I meet my soul mate I understood what love was.  But, there was a big piece of the puzzle missing; a family.  It was a depressing and lonely time but I learned so much about myself and what was really important that I know I am blessed for the struggles we faced.

If there was one thing I would like to go back to during that time it would be the quiet times with just Mr. Tolerable and I.  The trips we went on.  The laughter we had as a young couple with no children to chase after, keep us awake at night, or discipline.

But the 30′s, so far, seem so wonderful I just want to press the pause button on the dial of life.  My children are old enough to not need me 24 hours a day but young enough to need me most of the time.  My best friend and husband is working from home and spending so much more time with us.  We have a cute house by the park in a nice little town.  I have great friends, a wonderful family, and an ever growing faith in Jesus.

I am in the process of getting back that 135 lbs body from my 20′s so there will be nothing from that time I want to go back to.  I am about 3 weeks into “Project: Bringing Sexy Back.”  Here is my semi before picture.  Wish me luck!  Happy Birthday and Life to me!

If you are in a marriage where you feel like your husband would rather spend time with the dog/golf club/TV/car/bar/buddies/his right hand than you – skip this entry because I have so much bragging to do on my guy that it would make even the most “happily married” person gag.   You’ve been fully warned.

If you have been reading my posts you know that recently my husband left his job at a new home builder and has decided to work from home as a professional handicapper/horse player.  I know most women would cringe at the idea of their husband being home.  Honestly, I wondered how we would fare being in a confined space for an extended period of time.  Turns out – I NEVER WANT HIM TO GET A REAL JOB AGAIN.

His chosen career allots for plenty of time to do other things around the house.  He creates his own “honey do” list and works on it with vigor.  Example one: I asked him this past summer to help me transform our downstairs living room (AKA the place where we pile the clean clothes as it waits……and waits for me to come down and fold it) into a play room for the kids.  The wintertime in Southern Indiana can get rather mundane to put it nicely and it would be so nice to have somewhere else to go.  Plus, play dates would hopefully be a BIT quieter and more fun for the kids as well as the Moms.  Well, my Mr. Tolerable worked his cute little tail away for the past 2 days moving furniture, a Big Screen TV, rewiring the TV so we have a VCR AND a DVD player, removing doors, and vacuuming.  I didn’t remind him, I didn’t harp at him.  He listened when I said it the first time over 4 months ago and just did it.  How many men do that?  He has also been “wiping the rest of this place into shape” as he like to put it.  Hanging new binds, measuring our back door to be replaced, organizing his offfice, mowing, grocery shopping, doing laundry (since he is downstairs anyway, where the machine is – his words, not mine) ordering a new fridge and me a new Palm Centro (AWESOME).  I just keep saying, “You spoil me so bad!”  His response is always the manly, “Cuz you sex me up baby.”  Followed with either a butt squeeze or a boob honk.  What can I say, he’s still a man.

Jackson and Alex absolutely adore their Daddy.  It has been so awesome watching their relationships grow in just a few months.  They now get to see Daddy anytime they want.  Yesterday morning Jackson made his Daddy blue berry muffins (with a touch of help from Mommy).  He was so proud of himself and couldn’t wait for Daddy to wake up.  As he was stiring the mixture he looks up at me with those huge hazel eyes and says, “This make Daddy so happy!”  My heart melted.  Jackson was right.

Our relationship and marriage is better than ever.  Our finances (thanks in part to inheritances) have never been better.  Our sex life is amazing.  Our friendship is even more solid than before and we’ve always been best friends.  He no longer comes home pissed and stressed out about that “stupid company.”  The overall demeanor of the household has lightened and become so happy.  I feel so blessed to be where we are right now.  I pray that he never has to return to a “real” job and can stay home with us forever.

I’m not the most religious person in the world.  I’m a Christian, that is true, but I have a hard time spouting phrases like,

“What great fellowship we had.”

“That song really spoke to me.”

“I feel I’m being led by God to  ________.”

There are times, though, when I cannot ignore the “Old Man” as my hubby likes to call him.  My family is going through what should be total turmoil but I believe God will provide for us (another phrase I usually would not spout).  Today Mr. Tolerable called me and said his boss told him he did not have to work out his full 30 days he gave for notice he was leaving.  Honestly, we were hoping that would happen because it does not affect his pay and allows him to spend some time with the family before he starts a new job.  The HR department has assured him his commissions that are due to him for the next 3 months are his regardless.

On this same day, Mr. T also found a position that he is so excited about.  He has already submitted his resume  It is at a local horse racing track as an administrative manager.  I know it might sound like something not everyone would be excited about but for my husband it is a great opportunity.  There are MANY responsibilities such as hiring, firing, organizing, training and (his favorite part) making sure accommodations are made for the horsemen, owners and trainers.  He will get to meet (if he got the position) those that he reads about and looks up to.  It would be the “in” that he has been looking for.

I have a hard time believing this is all coincidence.  If I were to make a made up position that I wanted my husband for, I would have put almost the same things as what was on this position AND it’s at a horse racing track.  Divine intervention?

As I type this, Mr. Tolerable is packing up his belongings from his office to come home.  Saying goodbye to a job that he did well, very well.  One that only a year ago he enjoyed.  But after almost 7 years, going through ups and down.  The original company being bought by a bigger “better” company.  We can both finally say, “Good bye and GOOD RIDDANCE.”

Do you out there think God works that way?  That He creates opportunities for us?  Or, are we just reading into these events and since we like them we think they are from Him?  Have you ever had God show you a path to take and DID IT?  What was the outcome and do you regret anything you did?  Did you ever NOT do something that you now see probably was an opportunity opened up by God Himself?  Why did you not follow that path?  What happened afterward?  I guess I am just looking for someone out there to confirm to me that we are not completely insane!

Maybe I am just full of ignorant optimism and in a couple of months we will be living in my parents back yard in our camper eating Ramen noodles and beans.  Maybe then I could break out my plastic high heels and bracelets and head down to my local Wal-Mart and apply for a job.  Heck knows I’ll be there enough with my dirty, shoeless, shirtless kids buying my Camel Lights while my kids scream that they want a WWE Nascar toy.  Nothing against people who work or shop at Wal-Mart; I go there all the time.  That is why I know what the patrons look like.

I attend a rather large church in my hometown.  It isn’t large in comparison to some of the “mega churches” in the bigger cities but for this area it is large with attendance usually around 1200 people.  When we moved to this town we searched for a church we could call “home.”  We entered several “traditional” churches and never felt a match.  I remember going in one and only talking to the secretary (as the preacher was gone).  Later that evening when we got home we had a message from the preacher saying he thought his church was a perfect fit for us and for us to call him back.  We chuckled since he had never even met us or talked to us.  I finally talked my husband into going to the “big church on the highway.”  He was afraid it was one of those “weird” churches where people lurch in the aisles and talk in tongues.  I kept assuring him that a church THAT big wouldn’t be “weird.”  It has to be somewhat mainstream in order to get that big of a congregation.  I was right in my assumption.  We walked in on a Wednesday and told them we were new in town and looking for a church.  The secretary introduced us to a man by the name of Alan.  He was wearing blue jeans and was completely laid back.  He gave us a tour of the church, explaining their goal to “reach lost people and guide them to a personal relationship with Christ.”  He also said that even if this church wasn’t a fit for us he wanted to help us find one in town that was.  That struck us so deep.  He was more worried that we find a church than stay in HIS church.  He spent almost an hour with us and listened to us.  We decided to give it a try that Sunday.  Much to our surprise Alan was the lead pastor and was giving the message that day.  We looked at each other in disbelief because we had no idea who this man was who was spending all that time with us.  We assumed he had SOMETHING to do with the church but we never would have thought it was the lead pastor – he was so normal, so real, and so unlike any other preacher we had every met or talked to.  Then to listen to this man’s sermons….wow.  He was really concerned with lost people and the congregation showed it.  It was an audience of misfits.  Divorced men and women, recovering drug addicts and alcoholics, and your regular lost person (like you and me).  We instantly felt we had found our church home.  The love for Christ, the focus on him, and helping everyone cultivate a PERSONAL relationship with Him was awesomely overwhelming at times.  The church grew and grew.  The vision of the pastor, Alan, was to reach 10% 30,000 lost people in our county (so 3000 people for all your mathematically challenged out there).

Before we reached that goal, Alan said he was feeling the calling to go out to Colorado to grow new churches.  The percentages of unchurched and lost people there were staggering.  So, he left.  It was a sad day but we all new Jesus Christ had not left the building so we would be fine.  Fast forward a year and a few months and we were still without a lead pastor.  The family and small groups pastors stepped in to give sermons as well as guest speakers but all the upheavel had made the attendance dwendal.  My family and I weathered the storm and kept attending.  There were rumors that they had pastors lined up to come in and do a “trial” sermon on which the congregation would vote wether they would become our head pastor or not.  Never did that happen….

The congregation grew so hungry for a leader, so willing to just do SOMETHING to create some normalcy to the state of things again, that when they did finally find someone to apply for the job the congregation (in my opinion) rushed to accept him.  He is a good man.  A good father.  A good friend.  But, a leader with a vision that he has the ability to follow through with?  I don’t think so.  I guess we weren’t the only ones that had this opinion.  The congregation numbers continued to drop and more people began to voice their concerns about the “spirit” of the church.  The elders made the decision to “move in a different direction” and asked him to step down from lead pastor to small groups.  He declined and left.

I am with the rest of the congregation who thinks the WAY the elders came to their decision did seem rash.  The congregation was so surprised with the news.  It was probably not the best way to do it but I also don’t know how else they could have done it.  Would it have been right to tell the congregation, “We are putting your pastor on probation and if he doesn’t shape up he’s gone?”  I’m sure he (the pastor) knew that the elders and (most of) the congregation weren’t happy with the state of things and he was notified as much.  It would have probably been unfair to let us know that.  He would have felt like he had a magnifying glass on him and worried about everything he said and did.  So, I just don’t know how else the elders could have done what they did.  It’s a rough situation for everyone.

So, once again we are sans leader.  Rumors are flying around this little town like wildfire that Alan is showing interest in coming back and has even had a couple of interviews with elders.  There are some totally seperate issues going on with him and why he left.  He has told me in emails that he knows now that him leaving was nothing short of the age old sin of pride.  He thought he had outgrown our little church and he should move on to bigger and better things.  He has had a rough few years learning this lesson.  I just pray that the congregation can accept him as the “prodical son” with open arms and forgive him for his humaness.  I am so impressed that he would admit this that I am ready to have him back and let him finish what he started here – to get that 10% of lost people in this county to find Christ.  Only time will tell if the elders and the church will have him back.  From the conversations I’ve had with other members, we are willing to forget and forgive and move on to growing the kingdom.  Now if only the politics don’t get in the way…..

So, I was correct in my prediction that we would, indeed, perform as The Who in front of an audience.  What I didn’t predict was that we would put on a show for more than the smiling faces of our kids in their pictures.  For some reason (blame it on the Quervo they say) we decided it would be a good idea to go outside under the canopy.  We brought our laptop out and hooked speakers to it.  Good sound really.  It was a nice night and since RVers are notorious for being OUTSIDE their RV’s (even the people with the $200K ones – I don’t get it) we had a captive, live, and REAL audience.  But, we didn’t care.  We were rocking out and loving it. It’s ok though, because they were all drunk too.

Water bottle can be a mic or guitar.

During intermission of our show, we decided (OK I decided) we needed to smoke.  Just so you know, I don’t smoke.  Mr. Tolerable doesn’t smoke.  But, I thought just because we were so cool the only thing that would make us cooler would be a cigarette.  Mr. T was adamant about not letting me bum one or two off a fan neighbor.  So, we walked down the highway to a gas station and just bought a whole pack.  By now I am feeling pretty good and for some reason am having a hard time walking a strait line.  Mr. T was able to help me along the way.  Through clinched teeth he would say to me, “Don’t say anything to anyone.” as we would pass other Nascar people who were also feeling no pain and looking for conversation.  We get to the gas station that has a line of Harley Davidson’s in front of it.  We look through the window of the store and what do we see?  A police officer standing at the counter chatting it up with the gas station attendant.  “Shit” I say – I could just see us getting a public intox slapped on us and was doing my best to pretend I wasn’t drunk.  Have you ever tried that?  It’s hard.  I suggest to Mr. T, “I’ll just stand out here (in the parking lot).  You go in and get the cigarettes.”  I was answered with a resounding, “Absolutely not.  You stay with me and don’t say anything to anyone.”  We are in and out with no problem. Phew, close one.  LOL.

Trying to not look drunk - didn't work.

This is the a red-eyed raving banshee I spoke of.

I got the camera out when we got back and was sitting on Mr. T’s lap snapping a few shots.  The picture to the right will show me as the lunatic I am and my husband doing his impersonation of Zoolander?  I really don’t know what we were doing but we were having fun.  After a while, we bored of the outdoor stage as people were finally finding their way into their houses on wheels.  We decided we would go in as well.  I mean, what fun is it to sing, “My Generation” and windmill your “guitar” if no one is there to laugh at watch you?

That’s where this story ends for you.  But, let’s just say MY story does not end until 3:30am – that’s right folks.  Single people don’t have ALL the good sex.  Thank you very much.

Jim The Tolerable and I are doing something we both LOOOOVE right now. No, besides that – jeeze people, get your heads out of the “R” rated section.

Location: Indianapolis Motor Speedway, RV, dining room table

Activity:  Each at respective laptops using an EVDO card to surf and post all at high speed.

Why we love it: We are geeks first and foremost.  But, what makes it even more awesome is that my Mom has the kids.  The weather is absolutely perfect.  A little nippy with the windows open tonight but no need to run the A/C.  Time alone and time together…..and it couldn’t have come at a better time (read this if you don’t know what I mean).

This Sunday is the 15th running of the Brickyard 400 mile race at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  My husband has been coming since it’s inaugural race.  He is an avid fan of not only motor sports but more specifically this speedway.  I honestly just come for the vacation.  Well and the good wine, conversation and laughter we both have here.  It is at this racetrack we remember why we liked each other so much in the first place.  It’s easy to forget there is someone on the other side of the table when you have one child throwing a cold mac n’ cheese down your shirt and another one screaming “Itsy Bitsy Spider.”  We reconnect here (in more ways then one – you can return to the gutter now) and the cars are just a plus for him.

We have a tradition that we both look forward to when we come here; our air guitar session with The Who.  After a few glasses of wine, and he, a few Coors Lights, we always end up with a broom and a hair brush jumping around and making the RV rock.  From the outside it would look as if we were newlyweds but a peak through the windows would reveal two drunk friends, who happen to be married, lost in their fantasies of being Roger Daltrey (Me) and Pete Townshend (Jim).  And boy are we good.  The crowd (AKA pictures of the kids) roar.  The chemistry we have on “stage” is golden.  But, that’s tomorrow.

Tonight is a totally relaxing, unwinding time to just kick back and surf, post and read totally uninterrupted.  I have commented on 12 blogs tonight and responded to all 7 comments I had (the most I’ve ever had in one night – thank you ICLW girls!).  This is therapy and just what the doctor ordered.

Come back in a few days – hubby doesn’t know it but I’m going to sneak a few pictures of us air guitaring and post them.  Ok, I take that back, I might post them.  If I look like a 400 lb, red-eyed, raving banshee I reserve the right to withhold them.

Yesterday the kids and I went to work with Daddy.  Daddy works for a new home builder in a beautifully decorated 5000 square foot home.  I found myself salivating over the Corian countertops, tray ceilings, spacious rooms, and especially the WALK-IN closets!  The green-eyed monster came bubbling up inside and I was thinking, “Man I need a house like this!”  I think one of the closets was as big as one of my kids’ room…maybe I’m exaggerating but you get the idea of how the devil was just sitting on my shoulder whispering in my ear, “You deserve better…you should have a bigger house…”  It was indeed huge, beautiful and brand spanking new.  The smell of Benjamin Franklin paint was still fresh in the air.  It was perfect in every way.  The nic-nacs were dusted and perfectly placed. Coordinating bed linens, curtains and even the wall hangings complete a look of elegance and class.  The master bathroom was out of a Calgon commercial.  Whirlpool tub surrounded with vanilla candles and a luffa bar (I would actually use a luffa bar if I had a bathroom like that, honest!) Not a wrinkle, spec of dust, or clutter to be seen.  The company spared no expense when decorating and furnishing this home.  Everything has a place and everything was in it.  It was oddly refreshing and depressing at the same time.  I thought to myself, “if only….”

Then I returned to my home.  Toys scattered about, dishes in the sink, clutter on the TV, stacks of magazines next to the love seat, dirty clothes piled on the bedroom floors, beds unmade, paw prints showing on the hard wood floors, dust bunnies peaking out from under the sofa, and the list goes on.

I stood in the middle of the disarray envisioning myself in that model home, angels serenading me in the background but was snapped back to reality when my son ran over my foot with his monster truck.

I laughed and thought, “This is what a real home looks like.”

The toys are a constant reminder that I have two beautiful, happy-go-lucky toddlers who enjoy life, playing and of course their toys. Their laughter and pitter-patter fill this house with warmth.

The dishes were still laying in the sink because last night after supper we decided to go outside and take advantage of what was left of the daylight and have a family water gun fight.  A decision I will make every time and never regret.

The clutter on the TV isn’t really clutter..it’s just a landing point for things we love.  Family portrait, other pictures of the kids, my Christmas present from Mr. Tolerable (a hand-drawn picture of the kids I need to order a frame for), and the kids DVD’s which have to stay out of reach or they will be scratched beyond repair.

The stack of Blood-Horse Magazine, The Outdoor Photographer, Trailer Life Magazine and Musician’s Friend are a sampling of my husband’s hobbies, loves, and passions.  He is the most eclectic and interesting person I have ever met and broad range of magazines showcases that .  Often at night, after the kids are in bed and I am lost in the blogasphere, Jim will flip through some of the glossy pages and read aloud an article he finds interesting, sparking a conversation.

Because of a play date we had yesterday, the laundry didn’t get done (well, that and the fact that I HATE TO DO LAUNDRY – IT IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE).  We went outside and played in the sandbox and the pool with our friends.  We are blessed to have great friends to fill our days with fun and laughter.

The paw prints and dust bunnies are from our two wonderful, kid-friendly, gentle golden retrievers, Senna and Ripley.  They were the first “people” I told I was pregnant BOTH TIMES. They don’t mind acting as a furry bean bag for Jackson while he is watching Go Diego Go.  They really are members of this family.

Jim and I had a rare morning nap while the kids ate their breakfast and watch TV in their high chairs.  It was some of the most relaxing and restful sleep either of us have had in a while.  We have no idea how or why the kids let us sleep for almost an hour and forty-five minutes but we were beyond grateful for the sleep we were granted.  Because of this wonderful nap, we had to rush out of the house, leaving beds unmade to get to Jim’s work on time.

I would take my house, complete with clutter, toys, and general messiness over an empty, perfect house any day.  I am blessed beyond my wildest dreams.  From now on when that little devil sits on my shoulder and tells me I need more I will just flip him off (my shoulder).