a little obsessive....

On Friday my oldest sister Beth had said, "I'm glad you wrote about the impending sense of doom on your blog. I have been suffering with that too." At first I was kind of taken aback. I forget that people are welcome to read this. No one had ever really talked to me about what they had read, so I just assumed it was kind of my private little thought area. Like I was writing to myself. I was almost a little surprised, how did she know that?!?!?!

Anyway. It was funny. I was real leery about even publishing that post about "impending doom." It wasn't a huge deal to me at the time, but, if it had come to fruition and my nervousness came true....then it would have been really scary. All those rumors of me being a psychic would have been confirmed! I mean how many times on Montel has Sylvia said, "He/she knew that she was going to pass soon." Did they really know it? Or were they just a little paranoid, like me, and coincidentally it came to light. And my loved ones, would they blame me? Would they read my blog after my passing and think that I had some kind of secret that I was keeping from them? Like I intentionally didn't pay this bill, or take care of this issue....knowing full and well that my days were numbered. I assure everyone now, and in the future if need be, that I have no evidence or reason to believe that I will be leaving anytime soon.....I'm just a little neurotic sometimes. Sometimes people think that when you put those thoughts out there you are "tempting" destiny. Perhaps. I am in the school of belief that you choose all of your trials and lessons to be learned before you even come over. Although there are a lot of technical stuff with that theory that I can't reconcile in my head. I believe that you choose your children, and that they choose you of course. But how far does that stretch? Did I choose my stepfather-in-law? My son's kindergarten teacher? What was under my control and what did they decide? Where there negotiations? Was there a contract? Did they give me everything they wanted to accomplish and I agreed or disagreed? Did several apply? Did I just pick the number of children and God filled in the actual vacancies? Where is the line drawn?

Anyway, all of that aside, when I was talking to my sister I mentioned a little of that and I also referred to a cross that I have hanging from my rear view mirror in the van. Because, as all of you mother's know, the van is an especially stressful time. Construction. Rush hour. Wiggles songs repeated over and over and over again. Screaming. Windows going up and down and up and down and up and down again. Arguments. Drama. It's just a lot going on. And I mentioned that, in addition to that cross and the serenity it provides, I had considered writing a "prayer" and posting it on my dash to read before each of my trips. Just to provide a little bit more of calm and consciousness before my drive. And Beth said, "but you are afraid you won't be able to not read it?" Am I that predictable? I second guessed it, just like she said. I have a little bit of a tendency to be obsessive and I was afraid that it would become a routine that crossed the line of neurotic. Just like I always feel compelled to instantly set my odometer thingy to zero when I get gas, although I have no idea how to use it. And I always have a need to push the cruise control button and get that light off of my dash as soon as I am done using it....although my car could care less. It's just a touch of OCD. I've never really talked to a medical professional about it. I just thought of it as being a quirk that amused my husband, not really a problem.

Maybe I need to get my Prozac refilled.

I need to get going now. My husband is watching the Colts game and the children are distracting and annoying him. His yells about "flags" and "bullshit" are being constantly interrupted by screams to "get out" and "go away." I love football. I hate the urgency of it though. He ran home from church to watch the game while I tried to make a spaghetti lunch...fighting all of them every step of the way. Even though we have Tivo and he could literally stop time, he didn't fill the need to do so and provide me with any much needed support. That, after all, would be like postponing Christmas. UNTIL, lunch was all done and he wanted to fix himself a plate. Then alas, he paused the action on the television screen, and filled up the plate. Left all of our children plate less and to fend for themselves. And when I mentioned it to him he had an almost "dumb" expression on his face. If I had told him to dye his hair black I would have had a more thoughtful response. Like I had violated some secret contract we had signed on our wedding day, assuring him a 4 hour window of bachelorhood every week to be dictated by the Colts NFL schedule. Like it was completely understood, and I was an idiot. Luckily, because of the timing of my sarcasm it didn't become a fight, he he. There was a kickoff in less than 30 seconds so there was no time to start an argument. And, in three hours, when it is all over, his memory of our day BC (before Colts) will be replaced with all the details of this tackle and that fumble.

Ahhhh, a typical fall day. Nice, sunny, cool, a little nip, windows open, and the breeze of profanities floating uninvited along the crisp, autumn air.

Erik is also stopping smoking today. I am praying that goes well. I think that how the Colts play might have a direct relationship to that commitment.