Oh my Stars and Jellyfish.

I'm quite certain several elephants were able to reach full gestation in the time period that I let lapse between blog posts. And I assure you. It's for good reason. I'd claim that I never get the time to do things like blog, and veg out, but frankly, that's a bald faced lie.
Anyone who has me on their myspace can attest to that. I do more than my fair share of time wasting via the world wide web, I just don't always have the wit and wisdom some of you seek when it comes time to begin spouting off at the fingertips. I also hate posting without something in the form of a photo graph, and since my Adobe Photoshop CS2, and my worthless hunk of computer decided to gang up in operation "let's make Ruth curse our very existence and refuse to open so that she in turn has no ability to turn her weak and over exposed photos into something presentable for viewers world-wide", I have been reduced to blogging. With old photos. And run on sentences that my 6th grade teacher would have held me back for even attempting to use. Too bad she now teaches 2nd grade, and run ons happen to be my specialty.

SO. Let's begin. It's been 8 weeks since my last confession. In that time I've managed to not only secure a place in the worlds fastest expanding waist line finals, but I've won gold, and the free t-shirt. It's 100% cotton, there will be shrinkage, I'm sure it's a one time wear item, but I'm not gonna be picky.

 I broke down, and bought me some Alli, in hopes of quelling that inner desire to feast upon anything that sits still and doesn't resemble something I've cleaned up during my 6 year stint as a mother. So far, I've lost 240 hours, $49, and the ability to control my bowels. I kid. I've had no incidents, and from what I can tell, this stuff might actually be what i need to get back into those single digits.

 

Biggest news of all. I turned 27.  This mid-life crisis led me to do things, most would never do unless one still attended a school where lockers are issued, and lunch is served in a line on trays, but I however have always been a fan of things that make me appear crazy and desperate. Despite my overreacting, and desperate attempts to stay young I was shocked to discover: The sun did not cease to rise. Countries did not raise up arms in battle, and there were no bolts of lightening, but it did hurt. I'm kind of past the point of rescue. From here on out, I am officially, a 27 year old mother of 4. And if you count the misplaced son of my father who is in my constant care, I have 5. I cannot tell you how many times a day someone says, "all them kids yours?". No dude, I borrow them to take with me just to see how it would feel to be Angelina Jolie for a day, minus the hot lips, and million dollar bank accounts". They don't laugh. That's ok though. I'm not usually either with all 5 kids in tow. They arn't getting any smaller, and those dang carts arn't getting any bigger. We risk cart overload everytime we stuff them all into one, but until they can learn to shop without breaking jars of pickled pigs feet (Mia), they will remain inside.

 Speaking of the darlings, I know you are dying to see how big they are, and you just happen to be in luck, because I take pictures. Sometimes. And I am here to share them. With you all. I know. You can barely stand it.

 

How sad is it that I have pictures of them in halloween costumes?  And my last post was August. Tragic. But times are a changing. I am back with a vengence. Or at least a little anger, maybe not vengence. That's a strong word. Without further adieu, my offspring.    

 

You'll notice a pattern in the girls' costumes. Old Navy serves more than it's necessary purpose when it comes around to Halloween time. Warm costumes mean 20 below weather won't stop us from going out as something more than the abominable snowman, and the fact they have built in hoods, means, they don't risk costume confusion. We're enjoying this cold weather near death experiences at every corner thing that is so common in this wilderness retreat in which I reside.

Speaking of near death, I thought I was going to have to remove a kind soul from this earth when I walked out to my car last month and found this... Now I realize she gets horrible gas mileage, and her appearance was less than stellar, but finding the only method of transportation off this mountain of madness, in a state such as this, left me beside myself with anger. Who could do such a thing? Surely nobody around here drives into cars and drives away? But then why is my car like this, and nobody is around? 8 long hours of police reports, and serious insurance calls, the sweet 16 year old boy next door arrives at the house, practically in tears stating that on  his way to school he "hit"( I think he meant to say, brutally totaled but I could be wrong) my car, and was so scared that he just went straight to school. He offered to pay me in cash if we could just leave his insurance out of it. I smiled. Feeling very sorry for him knowing what that kind of damage would cost. Needless to say, we filed a claim, and I was able to get the car into the shop for the body work.

 

 HOWEVER. As one could assume, I cannot be without transportation, and the lovely people at state farm assured me a vehicle would be available for me to borrow. What they failed to mention, was that vehicle, would be a mini-van. And I, Ruth Akers, a girl of the I will never drive a mini-van school of thought, would be forced to suck it up. And you know what? I kind of dig it. Sure, I'm not going to be picking up any college boys, but I couldn't do that when I was IN college, so not being able to do it now, is really no loss. And besides that. I'm married. And I have 4 kids. If the van doesn't scare them, one of those others will.

 

Other than the  usual hulabaloo, we're preparing for 2 weddings, my sisters, and my fathers. GASP. YEs. My father has found love. And who am I to stop it. Life must go on, and so must his. I get to don a pink dress for my sisters wedding, and I'm really hoping it's made of satin, and form fitting. Shows off all the good stuff I try to hide with  my hoodies, and control top pantie hoes. I figure if it's gonna be good, might as well be REALLY good.

 

I also, took a leap, and got me some glasses. Part of my plan to make myself appear smarter without actually having to do anything with my grey matter. Mikey assures me, I wasted my money, and Aubree said, " you don't look Smite, you just look we-ard" Maybe I should have used the money towards a brain exercise application for the iPhone.

 

At any rate. This is my life. There are no earth shattering developments. I have not done anything worth sharing, I am not pregnant. For once. And nothing about my existence makes me a better person. But I'm nearing year 1 of my mothers loss, and I'm marking it with a promise. To be the real me. To stop pretending I'm always happy, always excited, always on top of things, always the good girl, who makes the good choices. I'm none of those things. But I keep at it. And I'm pretty sure my mom would be proud.

Eh. Well wahtever the outcome, 1 thing is for sure. This time here with my dad, is his janky basement, has made me want to do more, be more, live for more, and make sure that I do the things I need to, to keep ME ok. I think I'm going to make it. Even if I fall short. I've got this extra padding. It won't hurt too bad. Gotta be thankful for that.

 

Thanks to those of you who still check this rickety old blog. the 21st century called, and asked me to please join it, with new side notes, a banner that ISN'T, this one. So. You know. I'll work on that. Oh, and also. I scrapbooked. yeah. I thought you'd be proud. So go ahead, pull up your chairs. I'm coming back. Not necessarily a Britney comeback, but something pretty close.

 

And that. Is always worth smiling over. ;)