Monday Impressions

Anger Cleaning

This morning Evan woke up mad. Just plain mad.

He had the bright idea to do paperwork for our taxes, because that makes everyone less angry.

Ha.

He asked me to come upstairs and keep him company in his office while he worked on the paperwork. First I was in trouble for playing the same Taylor Swift song over and over again. Next he was yelling at me because I was "stealing too much Internet" and making it run slow.

What-ever.

So I pushed aside my laptop and took a nap on the couch with Scout.

Then the last straw hit him. The code he had to submit whatever paperwork he had been working on for the past hour was wrong.

He shut his computer and stormed downstairs. Dishes were being clinked together, cupboards being opened and shut, the washer filling up with water, and the sweeper being run.

After everything quieted down I stumbled down the steps, slowly coming out of my stupor to find a spotlessly clean kitchen, living room, and laundry.

A little smiled tried not to escape out of the corner of my mouth as I asked: "Feel better now?"

"Yeah" he said with a breath of relief.

It was definitely funny, but also kind of nice...now I only have to put off cleaning our bathroom and bedroom! If I do say so myself, I've done an excellent job at that this entire week.

At least Evan is a productive angry person,

Why is it when I get mad I become a irrational, chocolate craving, couch potato?

The world may never know.

My curse: Big Feet

5 general problems with this curse:

1. Being called Bigfoot

2. Instead of shoes being "cute", they just look like boats

3. Being able to share shoes with your husband = embarrassing

4. Tripping over your own feet is normal
5. Never being able to buy vintage shoes because nobody had feet that big...ever.

Current Problem: #5

These shoes are exactly what I'm been trying to find now for the last 6 months. The only problem is they are rare Vintage Italian Leather Oxfords...size 5. If I could somehow stuff my foot into them I would...but alas the curse of the big feet will continue.

Doctors offices are the Gates of Mordor. Think about it, it's like paying someone to torture you. At check-in the nurse completely ignores your presence. You stand there and awkwardly clear your throat a little louder with each passing failed attempt. Oh she knows your there! Finally her head snaps up and with a bark she shoves a clipboard into your hands and tells you to fill it out. Next you wait for sometimes hours in the worst-decorated, least-imaginative rooms possible. People wheeze, sneeze, and cough all over you at will. Babies scream, hundreds of them. The TV is on, but most people read lips easily so they leave the volume off. Oh the agonizing wait!

The nurse opens the door, after what seems like days, and calls your name; which she butchers, no matter how simple it may be. For a brief moment you are a winner! All those other hopeless looking souls are forced to wait purgatory longer, but you, NO! You get to go behind the magic disappearing door! But as soon as you step through the door, the glorious feeling slowly seeps away as the darkness begins to engulf you.

You're taken to chemical smelling room and told to take your clothes off. That room is always blue booty-cheek freezing. So you awkwardly sit there with your hands tucked under your thighs, trying to not make the paper underneath you crinkle too much. As you wait, you sit there and worry: "Did I clean my ears good enough?" "Do I have to get a shot?" and the build up continues until the knock on the door jolts you into an unintentional, enthusiastic response "COME IN!!" ...oops, I'm not that excited. The doctor and nurse walk in, smirking, like they know something you don't. Perfect. My two favorite things: freezing my ass off while getting to hang out with strangers....naked.

 They do the usual weight, height, blood pressure, jump on one foot while you pat your head and rub your stomach routine. Then the fun part: shots. This is usually the part where I hyperventilate and try not to pass out; Or cry like a baby. After slapping on a band aid your pushed out the door with a bill as long as your arm, or as much as a new arm might cost. Once you get out to your car you realize you don't feel any better than when you walked in. If anything you feel germy, exhausted, and your wallet is significantly lighter.  Yet year after year we still go back for more. Can't we agree that we shouldn't return to Mordor Mr. Frodo?

Ok, ok so maybe my doctors visit wasn't that bad. But I did have to wait for forever, and they did have to take my blood pressure twice because I was so nervous. I had word vomit and I couldn't stop. I was on a rambling rampage. My palms were sweaty and my stomach felt like it was full of Pop Rocks. The nurse kept trying to calm me down by telling me that "We're nice people here, don't worry." Which kind of freaked me out even more. All in all I did make it out alive, without having to get any shots, thank-you Jesus.

Evan is always so patient with me, even when I'm being anything but pleasant to be around.

In the morning he has already been dressed, takes care of the dog, eaten breakfast, driven to work, and started PT (working out like a man) before I even hear my alarm.

He works a 12 hour day like it's no big deal, and then comes home to help me with whatever I need.

Cooking

Cleaning

Playing with Scout

Balancing our checkbook

Making sure the bills get paid

Keeping up with the cars

Mowing grass

Helping me organize anything in my disorganized life

Aka all the things that I don't have a clue about...sadly cooking is included.

Nothing is too much for him.

Gosh I love him.

Marriage had made me more aware that I'm an innately selfish being. I have a lot of shortfalls. With friends its easy to only care about yourself and get away with it, but when you get married its a whole new ball game. If you're rude, stingy, or unwilling to compromise you have to sit and stare in awkward silence at the person you were a complete jerk too...because you live with them. They aren't going anywhere. You can't be Regina George and banish them from the club. 

What if marriages were created to reflected how God loves us? God loves us despite our weakness, screw ups, and complete, utter failures. This is how Evan loves me, he is so naturally selfless. I've probably told Evan 200 times (not joking) "I promise I'll try to keep my clothes picked up." Not once has he said "LAIR! That's what you told me the last time and you didn't do it! I'm sick of you!" When I fail he always comes to me with forgiveness, understanding, and blunt honesty all coated mercy. I could tell him to suck it up, that's how I am! But, I'm currently policing my room of mess in return because I know it bothers him. Don't get me wrong he has his moments too, but that's what I signed up for: Loving the good and bad.

Basically my mind has been blown so many times this week trying to wrap my brain around the absurd amount of patience, mercy, and grace that I'm given on a daily basis. 

Monday.

The very whisper of the word strikes loathing, disdain, and a withering sense of dread into the mind of just about anyone. Why? Maybe it's because Monday sounds like the word mundane. Maybe it's because it's the start of a new work week. Or maybe it's because you didn't do your homework. Whatever the reason I'm sure we can all agree Monday has a lot of haters. 

My marvelous Monday started about by waking up to this:

Let's be honest, what post of mine wouldn't be complete without a adorable picture of Scout?

...and that may or may not be a suitcase that still needs unpacked. Don't even worry about it, because I'm obviously not. haha.  

5 Reasons why I don't hate Monday:

1. I am not a natural organizer or schedule follower (Example: The picture above). It's nice to be on a schedule. As much as I hate schedules sometimes, I know I need them. Hence why Mondays are my friend.

2. I can always remember watching Nick-at-Nite as a kid. You know, Munster Mondays, Lucy Tuesdays, Bewitched Wednesdays, etc etc. Munster Mondays was always my mom and I's favorite. So no matter what the memory of Monday's during my childhood is always good.

3. Mondays always means delicious food at my house. I usually make our biggest meal of the week on Mondays to pack for our lunches throughout the week. Today it's a roast with potatoes and carrots. The leftover options are endless!

4. Date night. What? On a Monday you say? Sadly Evan and I both have an aversion to crowds in general, therefore we have date night on Mondays. I challenge you, go out on a date on Monday, you will not regret it! You might have an entire restaurant or movie theatre to yourselves! Better yet, be able to hear each other when you talk! Not only do you not have to wait in line for anything, they might even be cheaper too. Even grocery shopping late on a Monday night can be considered a date (especially when paired with a DQ Mocha Chip Blizzard...but that's just me). Having a shopping cart race down an aisle with no one watching: priceless. Plus it makes us feel like the weekend was a little longer!

5. Ultimately we decide our attitude towards Monday, Tuesday, or whatever day we deem "bad." Last week for me = rough. But Monday let me start fresh. Today I wipe the slate clean and deem this Monday AWESOME.

Tonight is a quiet one at the Slee home.

Scout is sleeping on my feet, as usual.

Evan is back in his baby/man reloading room tinkering around with his things.

Please notice how elegant the combination of baby boarder and the cold metal steel of a man bench nicely come together.

Rub some dirt in it.

This week has been a rough one.

This week has been the week of learning that I hopelessly suck at a lot of things.

Realizing that you can't always be the greatest, toughest, strongest, or smartest all the time is a hard pill to swallow. Especially when God decides that you need several doses in one week.

It's humbling.

First,

It started off with a dream I had earlier this week.

Uncle Don and I were just hanging out, being our goofy selves. We decided at some point that it would be a great idea to break into a kid's indoor jungle gym and terrorize the kids. (This is all the better, since we really would do something like this in real life) After running around scaring the pants off 4 year olds, we collapsed to the ground from laughing so hard.

In that moment my dream was so incredibly real.

I can see Uncle Don's blue button up shirt. I could breathe the thick, sweaty air of the jungle gym. I could feel my side hurting from the unstoppable laughter. I can still see kids staring at us like we were half crazy.

...and then I woke up.

It was the most overpowering feeling of sadness that I think I've ever experienced. It's unexplainable.

 I keep forgetting that he isn't here. I guess my brain hasn't fully soaked it in yet. It feels like he must be on a long vacation, or that he had to work again over Christmas; He will make it next year. But all of that is a lie; He isn't coming. It was like getting the wind knocked out of me at random moments when it came to mind throughout this week. I guess because it felt so real...just made it hard to accept it wasn't.

Then,

Thursday was a hard day at work.

I won't go into much detail about it, but it's hard to know when to be firm, but also fair. Especially when working with special needs kids. Not to mention that I'm super self conscious when it comes to making sure that I'm being as fair as possible.

I'm always questioning myself on whether or not I did the absolute best I could in the situation at hand. I've been doing a lot of praying, and asking God for some much needed wisdom and patience.

Next,

I finally admitted to myself that I am awful, horribly awful, at keeping in touch with my old friends. The same cycle happens every time. I miss my friends so much, but I never want to "bother" them, so I don't call. When I don't call I feel guilty. The guilt makes me scared that they will be mad at me, and so I don't call. How stupid is that? Yeah, pretty stupid I know. Why do I always make myself learn things the hard way?

I'm making an effort to call, text, or skype one old friend a week from now on. Hold me to it!

This,

Is a picture of Scout just because hes so darn cute.

and This,

Is a picture of Scout's lamb's (stuffing) brains. He was proud of it.

Bravo on making my house a fuzzball mess Scout. Bravo.

Finally,

Being in the military is hard, but honestly I hate the pity card that some people play here. You knew what you were signing up for so don't cry about it. Military men, women, and their families are incredibly bless with great pay, benefits, and blah blah blah. Yes, they get deployed. Yes, it's hard. But for goodness sake my mother doesn't plaster her bumper with a collage of stickers solely dedicated to my dad's engineering job. You catch my drift right?

BUT I will say,

The emotional roller coaster that the Army throws at me has worn me down this week.

Evan's schedule literately changes every other day...I wish I was joking.

It just makes it hard planning...well...anything.

This makes me frustrated, therefore emotional. We all know how I love dealing with sappy, irrational girl feelings. Whatever girl emotions, you can't catch me! The only thing I can do about this is take a big dose of suck-it-up and be ok with knowing I can't do anything to change it anyway.

Isaiah 40:28-31

²⁸ Have you not known?

Have you not heard?
The everlasting God, the LORD,
The Creator of the ends of the earth,
Neither faints nor is weary.
His understanding is unsearchable.
²⁹ He gives power to the weak,
And to those who have no might He increases strength.
³⁰ Even the youths shall faint and be weary,
And the young men shall utterly fall,
³¹ But those who wait on the LORD
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.

The best feeling ever?

Knowing you're doing a job well.

I was actually unaware of this until today. Not that I thought I was doing my job wrong, I just didn't exactly know if I was doing it right either.

My orientation for my job went something like this:

- handed schedule and a disorganized binder full of papers-

A paper with barely legable handwriting stating:

- Give him point sheet

- Take notes

- Catches bus at 2:05 pm by room 402

Yep. That's it folks.

I had no idea where classrooms were, how severe this kid was, what the rules/expectations were, along with a million other questions I had.

Nada.

Back to my point.

I was sitting in the teacher's lounge and the security guard came up to me and said "You're (Student's name...we'll call him Kevin) Kevin's new teacher's aide right?" he asked. "Yeah!" I might have said a little too enthusiastically. "Well you've been doing a great job, I haven't seen him in the office once since you've been here. I haven't had to escort him out of class either." he said with a smile.

I was actually taken back with his comment since Kevin, really hasn't been that bad for me, (at least not having the security guard come escort him out class bad). Maybe he realizes that I would drop kick him before I called security on him...Knock on wood, concrete, partical board, whatever gives me luck. After being a little surprised, it really made me feel good that dispite the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing, I guess I must be doing something right? Right?



Every year we all make resolutions to change ourselves for the better.

Don't get me wrong, the idea of resolutions are great, but if we're being honest with ourselves we rarely keep them more than 2 or 3 weeks.

I usually get myself in over my head by having a list as long as my coffee table in resolutions.

Well this year it's different!

I'm cutting back my voluminous list to a realistic 2 resolutions.

1. Keep it clean.

It's no secret that I'm not too put together when it comes to keeping things in their place. I can be a little messy sometimes. Another thing that isn't a secret is that Evan is a little organized. When I say a little I mean open any drawer in his office and there are tabs, files, and survival guides to nearly anything, neatly tucked away in its place. I'm hoping to become more like him so my life isn't such a mess, and also so he doesn't divorce me because of my bad habit drives him up a wall. Don't worry...he won't divorce me...that I know of...haha for real, just kidding.

2. Less Facebook more Jesus.

 Krysti has had a goal of spending more time praying, reading her bible, etc. than on Facebook and Twitter. At first I thought "I could never do that," but now I think it's something that I really need to do. Over Christmas break I wasn't on Facebook or Twitter at all. And you know what? I really didn't miss it. But as soon as I jump back into the craziness of life I get sucked back into it again. I'm putting my foot down. 2012 ready or not here I come! So long messy closets! Goodbye Facebook! Maybe, if you're lucky, you will see me next year! Never!

Last night Evan finally got his iPhone.

-Angels singing-

As we were sitting on the couch, he was trying to figure everything out.

Out of nowhere he blurted out in frustration:

"Like if I'm researching Taylor Swift's music video "Ours," only stupid stuff comes up!"

Seriously, he is so funny.

My only response was: "Do you realize how ridiculous that would sound to anyone else who knew you? The first thing you're looking up on your iPhone is Taylor Swift music videos?"

And he tries to be so matcho.

Believe me, I'm not complaining...we're both huge Taylor Swift fans.

He was genuinely a little upset when I went to her concert in October with Krysti without him.

I think after he realized he would be the only male there without a 7 year old daughter screaming her brains out, he didn't feel so sad about missing it.

Dear Taylor,

We love you. Is that creepy?

If you need adopted or something we would be up for the job.

Maybe something less committed: how about dinner?

We're only 40 minutes from Nashville.

I mean you named your cat Meredith after me right? We're already like family.

The ball is your court Taylor.

Love,

The Slee's

I'm finally at my new job full time, and so far it's going pretty good. I'm still learning the ropes, but it's mostly a lot of detailed paperwork mixed with patience. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas I was working both jobs at the school and nursing home, which made my life a non-stop work 7 days a week. I was too tired to do anything after I got home. The most I could accomplish was a shower, a cup of tea, and zoning out on the couch. I'm more thankful than ever to be working one job from 7-2...and having off on the weekends, just makes it that much sweeter. Yesterday after work I went to the store, picked up my paycheck, unpacked, went out to dinner, bought a lap, completely reorganized our closet and dressers, and I didn't feel like a zombie walking around!

Christmas break was a little bit of a blur. It was great to see everyone, but the main feeling I had about it was 2 things. #1: I was so glad to come home. Home to my own house. Gosh I'm feeling like such a grown up...all joking aside. Pennsylvania is still home, but now it's a different kind of home. Now it's my parents house, not my house anymore. 

#2: I can't believe a year a go my sweet bunny boy found me. I can still hear Evan saying "The one thing you better not have when I get home is a dog." ....oops. Just a few days before Christmas someone plopped him in a snowbank and left him there to freeze. He was so scared he couldn't move.  He really did come at the right time, whether Evan thinks he did or not. Scout kept me busy all of those long months that Evan was deployed. He makes me laugh with his obnoxious yawning noises. It broke my heart a little bit when I switched him from puppy food to adult dog food this summer. But there were other times I wanted to kill him, especially when he chewed all my Victoria Secret bras and underwear to shreds...or just recently knocking my christmas tree down after opening presents that were not his! All killing aside, he has become such a sweet and obedient dog. Any stranger is a new best friend to him. We are now our own little family. As much as Evan pretends to dislike him, I've found them snuggling on the couch together a number of times...Everyone in our family loves him so much...I'm pretty sure Scout had just as many presents as we did this Christmas.

Apart from all the bones, biscuts, and toys that Scout got; I received a breadamker, a fondue pot, new pillows, and a sweet tripod for my camera. I can't wait to try out all the great stuff!

Not to shove a thousand thoughts into one post, but I just had to mention my favorite kids. I got to take their pictures while I was home.