MISSING: sweet baby girl

I spent the day cleaning the house, cleaning up cat poop and puke, and having a teething toddler scream at me and even hit me in the face. If you happen to see a sweet and happy baby girl please let me know. I can't seem to find her.

Then Top Gun comes home and it's all smiles and kisses from Baby Girl. When I asked for a kiss, she just turned away and fussed. I didn't get a smooch from the Mister, either. There was no "Hi Honey, the house looks great." All I got was, "No wonder she's mad at you" because i wiped her mouth from blueberry stains. I don't care if I'm frustrated, tired, or even hormonal...I don't think it's too much to ask for a little support and appreciation, no matter what the condition of the house or how much screaming transpired.

I'm not perfect, I know. I'm sure I've greeted him poorly after a long and hard day of work, too. I guess I just think it's easier for him to come home to chaos than it is for me to deal with him and the little monster teaming up against me after being screamed at all day.

I feel like I have no support system here. Everyone works. Most moms are older anyways. The few moms who do stay at home have older kids and are busy with activities and/or share no common interests with me whatsoever and/or have family nearby.

Sometimes I feel like Will Smith in that movie I Am Legend, only with a baby and two stupid cats instead of a dog. Is there anybody out there? "If there's anybody out there...anybody...please. You are not alone."

I really don't intend to be such a crybaby. I've always tried to pretend like I'm fine. I'm strong, and this too shall pass. Maybe that's the problem. Honestly. Seriously. For real. I admit it. This is hard. I need a friend. I need someone who understands. I need to know that someone besides my mom cares enough to call or respond to this and ask if I want to go do something. Have lunch. Go shopping. Toilet paper a house. Something. Anything!

This might just be the most desperate attempt I've ever made at getting a date. I feel slightly ridiculous. Geez...pity party much? Praise the Lord Top Gun took the screamin' demon to the park when he came home. At least he did that. Good Friday nearly turned into Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Friday. Oh well. At least I still have my sanity. HA! Yeah, right...

how we pay the bills

Top Gun works for a privately owned company called Dynamic Aviation that contracts out to the government for a variety of special missions including intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance; airborne data acquisition; fire management;aerial application; and my personal favorite, sterile insect technique.

We fall under the latter category. What exactly do they do out here in California? Here is what Top Gun does at work everyday...

Just kidding. I promise he does work hard fixing and flying the King Airs. I can vouch for him. I do his laundry.

We always get perplexed facial expressions and a lot of questions when we tell people that Top Gun releases sterilized fruit flies from his airplane, a process known as Sterile Insect Technique.

Baby Girl chasing down Daddy in his airplane.

a week of reflection, a week for celebration

Easter '85. Kyle found the prize egg at Granny's.

My brother Kyle would have been thirty years old tomorrow. Thirty years old. It's hard to comprehend.

I was twelve years old when we lost him, and in my mind he's still sixteen. Sixteen. It's difficult to think of my big brother as my "big brother" when I am now twenty-six years old. I am twenty-six years old, and my big brother is still sixteen. See what I mean?

That was such a defining moment in my life. Tragedy usually is. People still use that to explain to others who we are, I'm sure. I know I do it for others. "Oh, that's so-and-so's mom. Remember? That girl that died in the car wreck?" We all do it.

I feel like those years are such a blur. I only have little flashes and things that I've retained because of photographs, but I don't remember much beyond that. Even in high school I couldn't remember...I must have blocked it all out somehow.

When my cousin Monica was about two, she was also the only survivor in a car accident that took the lives of her 4 year-old brother Eric, step dad, mom and their unborn baby. All Monica suffered was a broken leg. My granny raised her until for nearly fourteen years until they were in a car accident just months after Kyle died, and Monica was once again the sole survivor. I can't even begin to imagine that kind of loss and trauma. She came to live with us for a few years after that until she was old enough to get her own place. I really don't remember much about that time in my life, except that I eventually started sleeping in Kyle's room because she stayed up later than I did doing homework. We're very different, but I love her like the sister I never had. She is expecting her second child this summer, and Top Gun and I are going to be his Godparents.

My Paw Paw passed away in his sleep the year after we lost Kyle and Granny. I woke up to the sound of my Nenaw crying out to him to wake up. I knew immediately what was going on, but I didn't know what to do. I just sat on the couch quietly while in came the ambulance...coroner...and finally my parents came to take me home. Things happened in the years following his death that tore our family apart, and it has never been the same, but I remain close to my Nenaw and try to call and visit whenever I can.

All of that said, you now have a little insight into who I am and why I am the way I am. I always thought that I would change things if I could...and I'm sure I would...what can I say, I'm selfish? But nonetheless, all of past has made me who I am today. I don't think that I would value life and family the way I do now if I hadn't suffered so much loss. I am so thankful for all that God has blessed me with: two selfless parents; a loving husband; a happy, healthy, and beautiful baby girl; money in the bank; a safe house; a car that runs; an education; food; my health and so on and so on and so on.

Of course, it took me YEARS before I got through the seven steps. It was only days at Kyle's visitation when I got past the shock and denial. Steps two and three (pain and guilt, anger and bargaining) were kind of bundled up together and took a few years. Stage four was the hardest and longest. I think the depression was about five years. I tried all sorts of ridiculous things to feel/to not feel, and I hit my low in Christmas of 2003, a month before I started dating Top Gun. He was my saving grace. Don't get me wrong, God had His fingerprints all over it, but it was the man God brought into my life who started the upward turn (stage five) and reconstruction (stage six). I think stage seven is and always will be never-ending. I continue to accept my past and find hope in my present and future. Anytime I've thought I had it bad, I look around and see so many people much worse off and count my blessings.

Please don't for one instant take a person, moment, or your life for granted. It could all change tomorrow.

On another note, Happy Easter! Praise God that we will all be reunited one day in heaven. Thank you for sacrificing your Son!

eBay

I know I promised I would tell you all about eBay several weeks ago...better late than never!

This is my home office. It's nothing fancy, but at least I have a window with a lovely view of our cinder block wall and paved front "yard" (otherwise known as a patio). Grass doesn't exist in Southern California...you can occasionally spot some in school playgrounds, parks, and cemeteries.

Last October we took over a small eBay business from our brother-in-law in Chicago. I don't really enjoy being obligated the daily time commitments or the occasional dealings with rude customers, but it helps pay the bills and allows for me to stay home with Baby Girl everyday...so I put up with it. It can also be annoying to have work overtake your living area, especially when it's pretty small to begin with. We're often overrun by boxes.

Here's the rundown:

At least once a month, we order nearly $5,000 worth of competition RC cars. Then this guy comes.

He brings us some of these.

After which, boxes take over various rooms of our house. Usually the living room, kitchen, and/or our bedroom.

Stupid cat.

We then take the kits apart and sort the parts into separate baggies for separate auctions. We've found that both of us doing one car each at the same time is the most efficient method. It usually takes us about an hour from start to finish. We store the parts on clearly labelled shelves. Lord knows Top Gun wouldn't be able to find his head if it wasn't screwed on, so organization is key around here. We list anywhere from four to six cars at a time, and we start relisting our items once our auctions are running low and the cars are ready to go. The listings are always the same (unless one of the kits changes), so we never have to change the pictures or descriptions for any of the items.

Once that's finished, I have a big honking box or two of parts to stock.

I stock the parts in the correct cabinet and bin accordingly to color (car) and number (part). We started out with 4 different cars, but are dropping one because we weren't making enough profit to make it worth our while.

The following is one of our three main cabinets of parts.

This cabinet is actually our microwave cart. We're utilizing this storage space for tires, rims, chassis, bodies, decals, wings, and other miscellaneous items.

We maintain communication with our customers via Microsoft Outlook, which makes it easier to step away from the computer throughout the day. I get an email if anyone has a questions about an item, anytime we make a sale, and when the items have been paid for. At that point, I have one business day to pack and ship the order(s). I usually set aside time in the evenings after Baby Girl has gone to bed or during her nap time to process and package orders. We handle all of this through an eBay program called Blackthorne. I have to weigh the items, enter the weight, and choose my shipping method. I print the label, slap it on one of our padded envelopes, seal it, and drop it off at the mail box conveniently located about 50 yards from our front door. Anytime we ship a body or a larger order that won't fit into the slot, then I have to make a run to the post office. It's not too far away, either, but it can get a little annoying having to tote Baby Girl around when my hands are full of boxes.

I haven't looked at our numbers recently, so I couldn't tell you how much profit we're making. I can tell you, though, that our budget has been much more flexible since we took over the business. Once we've paid off the cars, startup expenses, and supplies is when we really start to smile.

EBay makes commission on part of our sales, and we have to pay for licenses and programs we use to manage our business. It was a lot of start up work, but we are very thankful God provided the opportunity for us! We would be treading water otherwise.

So, that's a small glimpse into my professional life. There is a lot more to it that I don't feel like delving into with you, but you get the idea. I also left out all of the other glamorous positions I hold (maid, chef, diaper changer, diaper washer, dishwasher, zoo keeper, etc...). You wouldn't really want to know about all of that. It's not always fun, but this makes it worth every drop of blood, sweat, and tears.

my birthday/christmas/please help me before i pull out all my hair list

1. a personal chef (they do the meal planning, shopping and cooking, right?)
2. a chubby maid (what? i don't want to be cliché...OK, i just don't want some cute young thang showing me up in my own house! is that so wrong?!)
3. soccer mom car (this low to the ground in-and-out of car seat business is really starting to do a number on my back.)
4. a yard (these cats are driving me insane! and i'm tired of playing on pavement with my Baby Girl.)

Undefeated

I've been feeling a little down lately. Most of my local friends are not yet mothers and work full-time, and I feel intrusive calling them on their off time. It may not bother them, but that's just the way I am. I don't like bothering people. The other thing is that I have a hard time getting along with a lot of girls. Let me rephrase that. Girls often annoy me. They're too...bouncy. Drama. Glamour. Gossip. Emotional. Am I wrong for feeling that way? I just have an easier time hanging with the guys. Talking sports. Joking. Laughing. Being surfacey, but having fun. Doesn't that just sound more relaxing? I don't like social obligations. Anyways, I've been lonely. Enough said.

Yesterday, I picked myself up, said enough is enough, got dressed, put on makeup, got Baby Girl dressed, packed the diaper bag, and set out to the local library to get a library card and check out some books for Baby Girl. We pulled up, I got everything unloaded, and headed up the sidewalk with Baby Girl in tow...the library was closed for remodeling! Talk about a motivation killer!

After I scraped myself up off the sidewalk and loaded everything back up, we headed to Barnes & Noble and bought some books! I refuse to be defeated. Baby Girl got two really cute books by Leslie Patricelli called Yummy Yucky and Quiet Loud, and I got out of the house for a couple of hours. Win win.

things i LOVE...in no particular order.

Obviously and without question, Baby Girl and Top Gun.

Mrs. Meyers. My friend Mandy introduced me to this stuff. I went for the Basil scent, which probably sounds a little strange, but let me just tell you...it's delicious.

Fuzzibunz.

Chips and salsa.

Kinder chocolate.

Cobbler.

My momma and daddy.

Coca Cola.

Cholula.

BBQ.

Hansen's Root Beer.

My Levi's (This model does them no justice.)

Photography.

My sisters-in-law.

Steel Magnolias.

Sweet Home Alabama.

Australia. (The movie, not the country. Not that I hate the country, I've just never been.)

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Soccer.

Rain. But not SoCal rain. It smells like a landfill in liquid form. I like clean rain in the country.

Babies (and not just of the human variety), but especially my baby.

Sweat pants.

And this. Maybe I am a health freak for not wanting to use deodorant with aluminum in it, but I don't really care. California has made me a little green...in more than one sense of the word.

Chocolate.

Two pillows.

The fifties. Not that I was alive then. But I love the idea of the 50s. I want to be June Cleaver. Only not so tame. I still want to be goofy and spontaneous.

Racquetball.

Kashi.

LOST.

My other family, the Simpson clan.

2% milk.

My childhood.

Josh Turner.

A clean house.

This stuff. Coral is, I'm sure, like totally like last year, but I'm still like totally in love with it. It like works so totally amazing with my skin tone and all.

My nephews and niece.

Old people. Especially friendly, cute old couples. And those wilted ushers at church. My favorite!

Christmas music.

Being pregnant.

My brothers.

Norah Jones's Come Away With Me album.

Traveling.

French.

Riding horses. I want a ranch. A real working ranch with horses and cows and chickens and a vegetable garden and a cute little farm house with a wrap-around porch and a creek and a pond to go fishing and and and.......

My best friend, Randi Beth.

Getting dirty.

The Pioneer Woman.

Our best friends, the Riggs's.

Eyelash curlers and mascara.

Dogwood trees.

Dallas Mavericks.

Lolita Lempicka perfume.

Jean Paul Gaultier perfume.

Stella McCartney perfume.

Abercrombie & Fitch Fierce cologne. yummm

The Disney Movie Club.

Dark chocolate covered honeycomb from Disneyland. My friend Bryn brought this confection into my life. My life will never be the same.

Children's books.

WillowTree figurines.

Purpose cleansing bar. Thank you for helping me look like a woman and not a 13 year-old.

The beach.

The park.

The zoo.

Any outdoor location that entertains my toddler for free or almost free.

Radio Flyer and our Radio Flyer All-Terrain Steel & Wood Wagon. It's a lifesaver at the beach.

Fishing.

Shooting guns. At targets, not at living things.

I could possibly go on and on and on and on because I love a lot of things, but I think this ought to give you enough to read for the next twelve years.