It's no news that we have all been watching the oil spill and wondering what the end result is going to be for our community. However, lately, I've heard a few people compare the oil spill to 9-11. I was going to let it go, but I just can't. No, no I can't.
While I am not taking anything away from the 11 families that lost love ones - and it actually makes me sad that there was not more coverage on that fact - and I'm not taking away from the families that are going to be economically impacted for a long time from this, I think it is safe to say that the oil spill does not even begin to compare to 9-11.
The end result is that the oil spill was an industrial accident. A major failure and completely unacceptable, yes, but an accident all the same. I'm sorry, but this in no way compares to the loss of life of several thousand people on one day - not to mention the thousands that have gone to war since then - or the fact that an entire nation of people had their sense of security removed in an instant. BP is not waging jihad against the Gulf Coast. I don't lie awake in bed at night and wonder if they are planning a way to unleash tons of oil across other states.
I think that if you are making comparisons to the two, not only does it show your insensitivity to a very sensitive subject, but it also shows your complete ignorance. This is not about being a Democrat or Republican, but about being an American and remembering not only what we went through that day in September, but also what our men and women in the military have gone through since then.
So, I'm sorry...no, actually, I'm not. While the oil spill is definitely an economic and environmental disaster it in no way compares to 9-11.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Come Next Monday...
I started a new blog to track my weight loss journey - ups and downs - good days, bad days, and downright ugly days. I plan on being completely honest - which means I might not be so nice some days, but maybe someone else will stumble upon it and realize that they are not the only ones going through the same thing. So many times you hear people talk about how good they feel losing weight and how nice it is - and yes, those things are true - but there are bad days, too. Days when you want to eat a gigantic burger or piece of cake and days when you might actually do that, too and then feel like crap afterwards. Well, I intend on documenting every step of the way.
The title of the blog is Come Next Monday.
I chose that name because it always seems that I am saying "come next Monday" I am starting a new diet, workout plans, whatever. Well, from now on....come next Monday.....I will be healthier me. Each Monday will be a healthy day, not one where I'm starting a new diet or workout program, but one where I know I am on the right track.
If y'all want to check it out, please feel free.
http://www.comenextmonday.blogspot.com/
Have a wonderful Sunday!
The title of the blog is Come Next Monday.
I chose that name because it always seems that I am saying "come next Monday" I am starting a new diet, workout plans, whatever. Well, from now on....come next Monday.....I will be healthier me. Each Monday will be a healthy day, not one where I'm starting a new diet or workout program, but one where I know I am on the right track.
If y'all want to check it out, please feel free.
http://www.comenextmonday.blogspot.com/
Have a wonderful Sunday!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Random Smiles Part 2
The Grilling Season is upon us, so I thought I would remind everyone to practice safe grilling techniques. Here are two reasons why my son cringes every time he sees me head out the door with a lighter, charcoal, and lighter fluid....
1. Once upon a time, I was married, and in this marriage I cleaned house, raised a baby, took out the trash, and many other things, but one thing I did not do was fire up the grill. I guess the reason for that was because he liked to grill, and I liked to eat the grilled food, but was content with just making the sides.
One hot Summer day, Johnny's sister, Janna, came and picked JD up for a play date and I spontaneously asked if they would like to join us for dinner that night. What were we having? Well, hamburgers from the grill of course. Johnny wasn't going to be home until later, but I am a very productive woman and I can grill. I think. I've seen it done a ton of times.
The grill is on our back deck, so I walk outside, put the charcoal in and strike a match, but nothing happens. I go round up some lighter fluid. The only problem is that we don't have a full bottle, but several partial bottles. I decide that more is always better and proceed to drench the charcoal.
I lit the match, walked towards the grill, extend my arm and the match doesn't even make it to the grill before this huge ball of flames shoots up in the air, and burns what little hair I have on my arm off.
Now, I know we have all heard of "stop, drop, and roll", but that isn't what crossed my mind. I jumped, screamed, and sprinted off the deck - all the while yelling "THANK YOU, JESUS...OH THANK YOU, LORD. I'M NOT ON FIRE. I'M NOT ON FIRE". I was loud enough that the neighbors ran out and over to the house to see what was going on.
Johnny made me promise I would not use the grill again.
2. Fast forward several years. I am now divorced.
Summer is upon us and I realize that I am in charge of grilling my own food. I buy a tiny table top grill, put it together, and this time it comes with a bag of charcoal that already has lighter fluid in it. This cannot fail. Right? Right.
Usually, I get myself in trouble when I decide to deviate from the plan.
I put this little grill on my porch step, and try to light it, only it won't light because the wind is blowing too hard. So, I moved it to the side of the apartment, in the grass. I struck the match, put it in the bag of charcoal and then pick the grill up to move it back to the steps. I'm going to admit that at this point I did not have the sense that God gave a billy goat.
When I picked the dang grill up, the legs fell off of it. As I turned to corner, which it was only a couple of steps from where I was to where I wanted to be, the wind hit the bag and my little flame turned into a sure enough fire. A fire, in a grill that I am holding. Have y'all seen me? I'm only 5'1 which means I don't exactly have a long arm span.
The fire burns my arm, I drop the grill, and as luck would have it, the grill turned over causing the grass to catch on fire. At this point, I'm in a panic. What to do? What to do? Thankfully, JD was in the house, so he wasn't witnessing the fact that his mama was about to burn the place down.
About that time, these two Navy guys that lived next door arrive home, to see our grass on fire, and me in panic mode. The made quick work of putting out the small grass fire, the grill, and reassuring me that it was okay. Needless to say, I didn't grill out, but those boys got homemade lasagna, french bread, and a salad for dinner. And once again, my grilling spatula was hung up...
Our new tradition became that I would buy the steaks and shrimp and Scott, my best friend's husband, would do the grilling. For a while...
I am proud to say that a couple of years later, I bought a bigger grill, more charcoal, the Girls Guide to Grilling, came prepared with a little patience, and not so much lighter fluid, and I learned to grill. It was good. After all, everything tastes better on a charcoal grill.
Enjoy Summer. If you see a big plume of smoke from our direction, don't be too alarmed, I'm just back at the grill.
1. Once upon a time, I was married, and in this marriage I cleaned house, raised a baby, took out the trash, and many other things, but one thing I did not do was fire up the grill. I guess the reason for that was because he liked to grill, and I liked to eat the grilled food, but was content with just making the sides.
One hot Summer day, Johnny's sister, Janna, came and picked JD up for a play date and I spontaneously asked if they would like to join us for dinner that night. What were we having? Well, hamburgers from the grill of course. Johnny wasn't going to be home until later, but I am a very productive woman and I can grill. I think. I've seen it done a ton of times.
The grill is on our back deck, so I walk outside, put the charcoal in and strike a match, but nothing happens. I go round up some lighter fluid. The only problem is that we don't have a full bottle, but several partial bottles. I decide that more is always better and proceed to drench the charcoal.
I lit the match, walked towards the grill, extend my arm and the match doesn't even make it to the grill before this huge ball of flames shoots up in the air, and burns what little hair I have on my arm off.
Now, I know we have all heard of "stop, drop, and roll", but that isn't what crossed my mind. I jumped, screamed, and sprinted off the deck - all the while yelling "THANK YOU, JESUS...OH THANK YOU, LORD. I'M NOT ON FIRE. I'M NOT ON FIRE". I was loud enough that the neighbors ran out and over to the house to see what was going on.
Johnny made me promise I would not use the grill again.
2. Fast forward several years. I am now divorced.
Summer is upon us and I realize that I am in charge of grilling my own food. I buy a tiny table top grill, put it together, and this time it comes with a bag of charcoal that already has lighter fluid in it. This cannot fail. Right? Right.
Usually, I get myself in trouble when I decide to deviate from the plan.
I put this little grill on my porch step, and try to light it, only it won't light because the wind is blowing too hard. So, I moved it to the side of the apartment, in the grass. I struck the match, put it in the bag of charcoal and then pick the grill up to move it back to the steps. I'm going to admit that at this point I did not have the sense that God gave a billy goat.
When I picked the dang grill up, the legs fell off of it. As I turned to corner, which it was only a couple of steps from where I was to where I wanted to be, the wind hit the bag and my little flame turned into a sure enough fire. A fire, in a grill that I am holding. Have y'all seen me? I'm only 5'1 which means I don't exactly have a long arm span.
The fire burns my arm, I drop the grill, and as luck would have it, the grill turned over causing the grass to catch on fire. At this point, I'm in a panic. What to do? What to do? Thankfully, JD was in the house, so he wasn't witnessing the fact that his mama was about to burn the place down.
About that time, these two Navy guys that lived next door arrive home, to see our grass on fire, and me in panic mode. The made quick work of putting out the small grass fire, the grill, and reassuring me that it was okay. Needless to say, I didn't grill out, but those boys got homemade lasagna, french bread, and a salad for dinner. And once again, my grilling spatula was hung up...
Our new tradition became that I would buy the steaks and shrimp and Scott, my best friend's husband, would do the grilling. For a while...
I am proud to say that a couple of years later, I bought a bigger grill, more charcoal, the Girls Guide to Grilling, came prepared with a little patience, and not so much lighter fluid, and I learned to grill. It was good. After all, everything tastes better on a charcoal grill.
Enjoy Summer. If you see a big plume of smoke from our direction, don't be too alarmed, I'm just back at the grill.
Random Smiles...
Lately, it seems that people are asking me how such funny situations happen in my life. I've decided that really my life is no more or less funny than most, but that I see the humor in my situations. So, for your entertainment - here are a couple of funny stories...
1. How did I Nair the cat?
Well, technically, the cat Naired himself. No, really. JD was with his dad and I had some time to kill, so I decided to Nair my legs. After the Nair incident of 2001, I promised I wouldn't use that stuff again, but every now and then, I can't help it. Okay, I digress....
Anyways, I am lathering up my legs - and I mean I am putting a TON of this stuff on - when Crackers, the cat, comes into the bathroom. Now, don't take too long picturing this, but here I am, covered in Nair on my legs, Nair on my hands, and this goofy cat won't leave. Well, Crackers might be a gigantic cat, but he's also a scaredy cat. So, I make some kind of sudden movement and the cat runs off....but only after brushing the side of my leg and cover the side of his head in Nair.
What do I do? Freak out, of course. I jump up, wash my hands, grab a towel and the chase is on. Only now, Crackers really can't figure out why I'm running after him and he picks up the pace. It took several minutes for me to corner him. Then I realized I should have wet the towel. So, I'm still covered in Nair and I have to let the cat go so I can go wet the towel. The chase resumes. I finally catch him again, hold him down, and scrub his face and obviously a bit of his fur off, too. Poor cat.
See, some people would've been aggravated with that situation. Me? I really got a picture of what we must have looked like and I was cracking up.
2. What was the Nair incident of 2001?
I've also decided that women do all kinds of things in the name of beauty. I have shaved, waxed, Naired, and plucked all in the name of hair removal - and I'm not even a hairy person. I feel bad for the women who are hairy and feel the need to do these same things.
Back in 2001, I was a 22 year old, stay at home mom. One Wednesday, I decided to Nair my under arms. Seriously, don't ask why. So, I buy the quickest acting Nair I can find, come home, JD goes down for a nap and I decide to get it over with. Here is where things went wonky...
I lather up, read that you should keep the Nair on for 4-6 minutes, and then rinse. Only, I start thinking about how under arm hair surely must be more difficult to remove than leg hair, so I think it will take longer. I left it on for about 10 minutes....it started to burn. Did I mention that I really don't have a lot of hair anyways?
I jump in the shower and realized that I've managed to burn off the first layer of skin under both of my arms and y'all that was no joke. I called my husband and informed him that JD and I would not be going to church that night because there was no way I could put on deodorant.
Well, Johnny was so nice, and decided to bring home some Aloe Vera burn gel for me. His mom kept some in her fridge at all times. He comes home, and decides he will help me. I lift up both of my arms and on goes the gel.
I hit the floor in a hail of bad language and laughter through my tears. That crap wasn't made for chemical burns - it was made for SUN burns. Oh, the pain. He grabs a towel and tries to scrub it off. I'm pretty certain I said something like "NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!", as in slow-mo I see the abrasive towel coming for me.
It took many days for my under arms to heal up and I was pretty certain I would never Nair again - wax maybe - but not Nair.
1. How did I Nair the cat?
Well, technically, the cat Naired himself. No, really. JD was with his dad and I had some time to kill, so I decided to Nair my legs. After the Nair incident of 2001, I promised I wouldn't use that stuff again, but every now and then, I can't help it. Okay, I digress....
Anyways, I am lathering up my legs - and I mean I am putting a TON of this stuff on - when Crackers, the cat, comes into the bathroom. Now, don't take too long picturing this, but here I am, covered in Nair on my legs, Nair on my hands, and this goofy cat won't leave. Well, Crackers might be a gigantic cat, but he's also a scaredy cat. So, I make some kind of sudden movement and the cat runs off....but only after brushing the side of my leg and cover the side of his head in Nair.
What do I do? Freak out, of course. I jump up, wash my hands, grab a towel and the chase is on. Only now, Crackers really can't figure out why I'm running after him and he picks up the pace. It took several minutes for me to corner him. Then I realized I should have wet the towel. So, I'm still covered in Nair and I have to let the cat go so I can go wet the towel. The chase resumes. I finally catch him again, hold him down, and scrub his face and obviously a bit of his fur off, too. Poor cat.
See, some people would've been aggravated with that situation. Me? I really got a picture of what we must have looked like and I was cracking up.
2. What was the Nair incident of 2001?
I've also decided that women do all kinds of things in the name of beauty. I have shaved, waxed, Naired, and plucked all in the name of hair removal - and I'm not even a hairy person. I feel bad for the women who are hairy and feel the need to do these same things.
Back in 2001, I was a 22 year old, stay at home mom. One Wednesday, I decided to Nair my under arms. Seriously, don't ask why. So, I buy the quickest acting Nair I can find, come home, JD goes down for a nap and I decide to get it over with. Here is where things went wonky...
I lather up, read that you should keep the Nair on for 4-6 minutes, and then rinse. Only, I start thinking about how under arm hair surely must be more difficult to remove than leg hair, so I think it will take longer. I left it on for about 10 minutes....it started to burn. Did I mention that I really don't have a lot of hair anyways?
I jump in the shower and realized that I've managed to burn off the first layer of skin under both of my arms and y'all that was no joke. I called my husband and informed him that JD and I would not be going to church that night because there was no way I could put on deodorant.
Well, Johnny was so nice, and decided to bring home some Aloe Vera burn gel for me. His mom kept some in her fridge at all times. He comes home, and decides he will help me. I lift up both of my arms and on goes the gel.
I hit the floor in a hail of bad language and laughter through my tears. That crap wasn't made for chemical burns - it was made for SUN burns. Oh, the pain. He grabs a towel and tries to scrub it off. I'm pretty certain I said something like "NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!", as in slow-mo I see the abrasive towel coming for me.
It took many days for my under arms to heal up and I was pretty certain I would never Nair again - wax maybe - but not Nair.
Are You My Mother?
I found this note I had written on Facebook and wanted to save it to my blog.....this was originally posted February 21, 2009
First, let me start by saying that JD and I have had a fantastic day. We went out to the beach, played a little football (which would have been hilarious to witness, I'm sure), built an entire sand kingdom, went the the base, explored the forts, and went out to Pace. Now I'm hoping that we sleep like normal people tonight, or at least 6 hours would be nice.
Driving into Pace tonight JD was playing his Nintendo DS and I was listening to the radio and my thoughts began to wander. It takes about 45 minutes to get over there, so it is a bit of a drive. As I was driving over the bridge, Martina McBride's Independence Day came on and I was singing along, thinking of when Mae-Beth and I would sing that song at the top of our lungs. We would ride with the windows down and fly out of Pace into Pensacola like we weren't afraid of getting a ticket. If I would've known how closely that chorus would end up mirroring my life, I wonder if I would've sang so loudly and as carefree. I might would've thrown in the white towel and given up then...okay, probably not because that just isn't my style. =)
Since 90% of my friends on Facebook grew up with me, and the other 10% know enough about me to know this I don't mind sharing. For a long time it was not the easiest thing to go back to Pace. Not because of Pace itself, but because although that was where I grew up and had lived all my life, I no longer had a home there. It was strange to drive across the causeway, like 100's of times before, but know that even if I ended up back at the house that held so many memories, nobody there would even know who I was. The 6 acres where we played ball, red light green light, hide and seek, and so many other childhood games are now split into small plots of land for several houses and several families to raise their children. Honestly, I hope that the families raising their kids there will leave them with better memories than we have. I hope those are homes filled with love and peace.
For a long time I felt like the little bird in the childhood book "Are You My Mother?". I felt like I was searching for somewhere to call home - someone to go home to. People who knew all there was to know about me and still welcomed me in. Then, I dealt with those things and really had to take some time to heal. You know what I realized? I am home. I am me. All those things in my past are things that helped shape me into the person that I am today. And I like this person. It has not always been an easy journey and honestly, there are still some things that I don't talk about...not because I'm not healed from it, but because I am happy to say that those areas no longer consume me. It is what it is.
So, tonight I am thankful. Thankful for where my life has been and where I am today. Thankful that home doesn't have to be a house on 6 acres, but it truly is where your heart is. I could move back to Pace, go to Atlanta, Washington DC, Japan, yes...even New York City =), and I have a home.
And for those of you who might feel sad after reading this, please don't. I don't usually write about this kind of thing because I know it is not an easy subject, but it is not meant to be sad. It is meant to be a celebration of becoming the person I was always meant to be...completely whole, completely comfortable, completely happy...completely me. Complete in more ways than I ever thought possible.
First, let me start by saying that JD and I have had a fantastic day. We went out to the beach, played a little football (which would have been hilarious to witness, I'm sure), built an entire sand kingdom, went the the base, explored the forts, and went out to Pace. Now I'm hoping that we sleep like normal people tonight, or at least 6 hours would be nice.
Driving into Pace tonight JD was playing his Nintendo DS and I was listening to the radio and my thoughts began to wander. It takes about 45 minutes to get over there, so it is a bit of a drive. As I was driving over the bridge, Martina McBride's Independence Day came on and I was singing along, thinking of when Mae-Beth and I would sing that song at the top of our lungs. We would ride with the windows down and fly out of Pace into Pensacola like we weren't afraid of getting a ticket. If I would've known how closely that chorus would end up mirroring my life, I wonder if I would've sang so loudly and as carefree. I might would've thrown in the white towel and given up then...okay, probably not because that just isn't my style. =)
Since 90% of my friends on Facebook grew up with me, and the other 10% know enough about me to know this I don't mind sharing. For a long time it was not the easiest thing to go back to Pace. Not because of Pace itself, but because although that was where I grew up and had lived all my life, I no longer had a home there. It was strange to drive across the causeway, like 100's of times before, but know that even if I ended up back at the house that held so many memories, nobody there would even know who I was. The 6 acres where we played ball, red light green light, hide and seek, and so many other childhood games are now split into small plots of land for several houses and several families to raise their children. Honestly, I hope that the families raising their kids there will leave them with better memories than we have. I hope those are homes filled with love and peace.
For a long time I felt like the little bird in the childhood book "Are You My Mother?". I felt like I was searching for somewhere to call home - someone to go home to. People who knew all there was to know about me and still welcomed me in. Then, I dealt with those things and really had to take some time to heal. You know what I realized? I am home. I am me. All those things in my past are things that helped shape me into the person that I am today. And I like this person. It has not always been an easy journey and honestly, there are still some things that I don't talk about...not because I'm not healed from it, but because I am happy to say that those areas no longer consume me. It is what it is.
So, tonight I am thankful. Thankful for where my life has been and where I am today. Thankful that home doesn't have to be a house on 6 acres, but it truly is where your heart is. I could move back to Pace, go to Atlanta, Washington DC, Japan, yes...even New York City =), and I have a home.
And for those of you who might feel sad after reading this, please don't. I don't usually write about this kind of thing because I know it is not an easy subject, but it is not meant to be sad. It is meant to be a celebration of becoming the person I was always meant to be...completely whole, completely comfortable, completely happy...completely me. Complete in more ways than I ever thought possible.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Where Thousands Live...
"On Behalf of our elected City Council, those 10 masterful men who manage our magnificent municipality; and on behalf of the chairman of our county commision and his four commissioners who constantly deal with the changing, challenging conditions of our county; and on behalf of our wonderful people who populate the Northwest Florida area, it is my privilege and pleasure as mayor to welcome you to Pensacola, the western gate to the Sunshine State, where thousands live the way millions wish they could, where the warmth of our community comes not only from God's good sunshine, but from the hearts of the people who live here. Welcome to Pensacola, America's first place city and the place where America began." -Vince Whibbs
If you have lived in Pensacola any time at all, you have heard a portion of this speech before - I'm sure. I have often thought of this speech while anticipating a hurricane to hit our beaches, and lately it has been on my mind because of the oil spill.
I don't need to say it for you to know that Mayor Vince Whibbs summed up in a few short sentences why it is great to live in Pensacola. As we all know, that beauty comes with a price sometimes. I started thinking about all the hurricanes we have recovered from - Erin and Opal in August and October of 1995 and of course, Ivan in 2004 which rocked our world in a way we had not seen. After Ivan, please show me one person that did not have a blue roof or at least have a neighbor who had one. Those are just three major hurricanes, not to mention all the category 1 or tropical storms that have brought rain and wind to our shores.
We have faced financial insecurities - who can forget when the Base Realignment and Closure project was announced? Well, if you didn't live here then or were too young to remember - this was an unsettling time in our community and I know several people that were affected by the outcome.
How about every time we read in the paper about another one of our soldiers dying somewhere overseas, or even in a training flight over the mountains of Georgia, like so recently happened. And I am certain that all of us held our breath back in April of 2007 when word came in that Blue Angel #6 had crashed in South Carolina, hoped the outcome would not be what it was, and shed tears for Lieutenant Commander Kevin Davis and his family when we were told that he had been lost. I remember looking out my window the next day and watching the Blues fly back in, right over my apartment, looking for that plane that wasn't coming - and crying. You know why? Because even if those soldiers don't start out in Pensacola, they become one of us.
Which brings me to my point...
The past few weeks have been difficult for a lot of people. The uncertainty of the oil spill situation has been like tracking a hurricane for 40 days and still not knowing what the outcome is going to be. I don't pretend to know how this will impact our community or for how long this will impact our community, but I do know this:
At the end of the day, we will be there to clean up, to rebuild, to hold hands while we cry, to support each other, and one day...we will be at the beach, watching the Blues fly - thousands living the way millions wish they could.
If you have lived in Pensacola any time at all, you have heard a portion of this speech before - I'm sure. I have often thought of this speech while anticipating a hurricane to hit our beaches, and lately it has been on my mind because of the oil spill.
I don't need to say it for you to know that Mayor Vince Whibbs summed up in a few short sentences why it is great to live in Pensacola. As we all know, that beauty comes with a price sometimes. I started thinking about all the hurricanes we have recovered from - Erin and Opal in August and October of 1995 and of course, Ivan in 2004 which rocked our world in a way we had not seen. After Ivan, please show me one person that did not have a blue roof or at least have a neighbor who had one. Those are just three major hurricanes, not to mention all the category 1 or tropical storms that have brought rain and wind to our shores.
We have faced financial insecurities - who can forget when the Base Realignment and Closure project was announced? Well, if you didn't live here then or were too young to remember - this was an unsettling time in our community and I know several people that were affected by the outcome.
How about every time we read in the paper about another one of our soldiers dying somewhere overseas, or even in a training flight over the mountains of Georgia, like so recently happened. And I am certain that all of us held our breath back in April of 2007 when word came in that Blue Angel #6 had crashed in South Carolina, hoped the outcome would not be what it was, and shed tears for Lieutenant Commander Kevin Davis and his family when we were told that he had been lost. I remember looking out my window the next day and watching the Blues fly back in, right over my apartment, looking for that plane that wasn't coming - and crying. You know why? Because even if those soldiers don't start out in Pensacola, they become one of us.
Which brings me to my point...
The past few weeks have been difficult for a lot of people. The uncertainty of the oil spill situation has been like tracking a hurricane for 40 days and still not knowing what the outcome is going to be. I don't pretend to know how this will impact our community or for how long this will impact our community, but I do know this:
At the end of the day, we will be there to clean up, to rebuild, to hold hands while we cry, to support each other, and one day...we will be at the beach, watching the Blues fly - thousands living the way millions wish they could.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
I Finally Figured It Out!!!
I finally figured it out! I must be a princess. Oh, not a frog kissing princess or a princess that sings to animals in the woods (although, I've probably done that...ha!), but I must be the good ol' princess with the pea.
Why is that, you ask?
Simple - I haven't slept through the night in years - honestly, maybe never. ha! So, I'm thinking that maybe my problem is that there is a pea under my mattress and all I need to do is find it. Shoot, not only then will I be able to sleep, but all kinds of interesting things will happen.
Let's walk through some of the things I've done to get a full night's sleep:
I've bought new mattresses, upped my thread count on my sheets until I am now at 1000, bought a tempur-pedic mattress topper, drank warm milk, slept with the tv on, the light on, the tv off, the lights off, the pillows stacked, my head right on the mattress, the air turned down, the air turned up, I've even tried over the counter sleep aids (as encouraged by my doctor) they have the opposite effect on me - I end up WIRED for days, I've had a glass of wine before bed, I've turned the computer off, I've read the King James Version of the Bible, I've listened to music, I've listened to white noise - sometimes I've listened to the neighbors fight (ha!), I've counted sheep - no really, I've exercised before bed, I've done a whole routine of relaxation, I gave up watching Forensic Files and Criminal Minds before bed,.....I think you are getting the point.
The only theory I have left is the Princess and the Pea theory. That's got to be it, right? =)
I hope y'all have a great, sleep-filled night! If not, give me a call, I'm sure I'll be up.
Why is that, you ask?
Simple - I haven't slept through the night in years - honestly, maybe never. ha! So, I'm thinking that maybe my problem is that there is a pea under my mattress and all I need to do is find it. Shoot, not only then will I be able to sleep, but all kinds of interesting things will happen.
Let's walk through some of the things I've done to get a full night's sleep:
I've bought new mattresses, upped my thread count on my sheets until I am now at 1000, bought a tempur-pedic mattress topper, drank warm milk, slept with the tv on, the light on, the tv off, the lights off, the pillows stacked, my head right on the mattress, the air turned down, the air turned up, I've even tried over the counter sleep aids (as encouraged by my doctor) they have the opposite effect on me - I end up WIRED for days, I've had a glass of wine before bed, I've turned the computer off, I've read the King James Version of the Bible, I've listened to music, I've listened to white noise - sometimes I've listened to the neighbors fight (ha!), I've counted sheep - no really, I've exercised before bed, I've done a whole routine of relaxation, I gave up watching Forensic Files and Criminal Minds before bed,.....I think you are getting the point.
The only theory I have left is the Princess and the Pea theory. That's got to be it, right? =)
I hope y'all have a great, sleep-filled night! If not, give me a call, I'm sure I'll be up.
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