Friday we had plans to go to the drags...only to find out they weren't running.  So we drove to a little town called Plattsmouth.  My roots are there.  We drove by my Grandparents old houses. ( if you don't know what the drags are....we can't be friends)







It was fun.  But sort of sad. Seeing their houses.  They have changed. 
 I wish things would stay the same sometimes.
 I wish my Grandparents still lived in these houses. 
 I wish I was a little girl again.  
Me and my sister would spend the weekend at Grandma's and we would drag out all of her Tupperware and play kitchen downstairs.  
And she would let us pick out our favorite cereal at the store. 
And she would put just a spot of lipstick on our lips and a puff of powder on our noses. 

She always made me feel pretty.  

She still does.  






This is the courthouse in Plattsmouth.  My parents got married here.
They have a neat story. I will tell you about it sometime. 

We hit the DQ








Saturday was a good day too.  Me and the husband hung out for most of the day. 

I sat on dirt bikes.  




In a skirt.  






We went to lunch and ate outside.  It was gorgeous out.    

Saturday night I didn't sleep. 

At all. 

 I finally drifted around five.  
But then I started dreaming.  
Which makes me feel like  I am awake because my dreams are so real. 
I woke up sick to my stomach, achy and completely out of sorts. 

Which was such a shame.

Because Sunday could have been a great day.  
The weather was perfect.  We had all our windows open.  The house miraculously got cleaned ( no help from me).    

But I just couldn't get to that PLACE. 

You know? 

That GOOD place. 

I slept better Sunday night.  

Now it's Monday.  Today was probably the worst day I have ever had at work.  Turmoil as soon as I arrived.  My coworker was in tears.  

It got worse.  

It involved me pushing my boss about a block in her wheelchair.  

In the rain. 

Trying to avoid potholes. 

And the arm rest fell off the wheelchair.  

Did I mention it was raining?

I burst into tears three times today. 

But then...it got better.  The afternoon ended up being OK.  Not good.  But OK.  

And I will take that over BAD any day.

I took at two hour bath tonight.  

I feel better.  Not good.  But better.    

And I will take that over bad any day.  

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My weekend was good.  And bad.  And good.  And bad.  I'll post about it tomorrow.
Maybe.

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Thursday's are generally my day off.  I had high hopes for today. 

I woke up around 7.  I should have just gotten up.  I just wasn't ready to face the day.  So I drifted in and out of sleep until 10.  I dreamed the whole time.  Disturbing, stressful, realistic dreams. 

I woke up tired. 

The house is a mess and I had no energy to clean it.  So Micah and I went to a coffee shop, got some mocha's and then I walked to a place called "Happy Nails!" to get a pedicure while he stayed in the coffee shop and watched YouTube videos. 





Micah actually loves the coffee shop because the Internet is fast.  It's kind of our Thursday thing we do together. 

Since he is such a trooper, I took him to the skate park. 




I know you can't really see anything.  I should have gotten out of the truck and taken pictures or videos of him. 

I just didn't feel like being around humans. 

We got home around three and I went straight to bed.  I fell right asleep and immediately started dreaming. 

I dreamt my boss fell and her son came over with a x-ray machine.  He said she needed surgery immediately.  In Vegas.  When I told her this, I noticed her head wasn't connected to her body but she was still talking to me like everything was OK. 

In another "clip" I had a chicken coop in my living room as well as pigs and the pigs kept getting inside the chicken coop and eating the eggs, which were chicks. 

I kept screaming at Darren to grab the eggs but he was being to rough with them and they were cracking. 

I woke up tired. 

Fridays at work are always hectic. 

I'm dreading it. 

I just want to feel better. 

But it can't be fixed. 

Some days I get so tired of fighting.  Don't worry though,  I won't give up.  That would take effort.  And I'm to tired for effort. 





It's really hard living with my mind.  Sometimes I get so angry by how unfair it is.  This depression thing....it sucks the life out of me.  It won't even let me sleep peacefully.  It won't let me enjoy my day off.  It won't let me get out of the truck and watch my son have fun. 

I hate it. 

And guess what? The paint is chipping off one of my toes. 

That just figures. 

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The sound of locusts = summertime to me. 

It always reminds of me of when I was little and going to  congregation picnics. 

Good times. 

I'm sitting on our front porch tonight.  The locusts are really loud.  Sometimes it sounds like they are harmonizing and then they just know when to die down and be silent.  Then they start up again. 

The week hasn't been good.  I'm feeling very weird.  Like I can't settle down.  But I'm to tired to actually do anything with the energy that I have.  It's like..... I have liquid energy in my veins and it can't get out. 

It's very uncomfortable. 

When people think of depression they usually don't think about the physical part of it.  Sometimes my body hurts and aches for no reason.  And sometimes I can't get comfortable no matter what.  Like I have restless leg syndrome.  Only it's through my whole body. 

And when I get like this....my mind always matches.  It's raging with words.  With memories that I can't quite put together.  I cry over everything. My head and heart feel so heavy.   And everything hurts. 


It's hard. 

I did have some laughs tonight.  Darren squeezed his soda can at Micah's face.  Micah then threw a chicken leg at him.  Darren started laughing so then Micah hit him with a lanyard. 

And it hurt.

 So Micah went running. 

He came out of his room like this.....


Ready for battle.  He calls for a truce. 






Darren says no way.  And besides that ,"you look ridiculous."



Bummer



"But can I PLEASSSSSEEEE go with you to buy your tool box?"


PLEASSSEEEEEE!!!!!


He let him. 

I love these two.  Even though sometimes....they are alot. 

On a completely different note....This was a screen shot of a video I took.  It's my firstborn. 



I hold my breath every time he makes a jump.

Do you want to see my bruise?  No?  To bad.....



It's pretty ugly.  Turning a nice shade of yellow. 

On yet another note...the boss is...

I don't know how to even complete this sentence.  Still around?  Still failing?  Still making me laugh and cry each day?  She calls herself the "Old Hag."  I tell her to quit it. 

I have off tomorrow.  Nothing planned.  Should clean the house.  Probably won't.  Should take Micah to do something fun.  Probably won't do that either.  Which makes me sad.  For him.  For me. 

But I guess you never know.  I may feel better tomorrow.  I may clean the house, catch up on laundry and take Micah to the skate park.  Maybe even make  dinner for the first time in.....six days is it?

Maybe.

 I'll hope. 

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OK now read the post below about the weekend.  Only...it's kind of sad.  Probably shouldn't have had my hopes so high on Friday.  Oh well.

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Alot of things. 

It started out OK.  We left after work Friday.



I love the drive.  Small farms, corn fields and gravel roads. 
We arrived just as it was getting dark.  We set up camp and I went to bed. 
Saturday we were eager to ride.  I didn't take alot of pictures because it's kind of the same old stuff.   




I rode some.  I got sort of beat up though.  Almost went over the handle bars.  I wonder if the 4-wheeler is just to much machine for me.  It's hard on my body and hard for me to control. 

I felt so out of sorts.  The weather was hot and sticky.  Can you see it in this picture?



It just looks steamy.

Plus I got a call from work about something that I couldn't really do anything about but I still worried and fretted over it the whole time. 

So I was sore, hot and worried. 

I'm trying not to feel sorry for myself.    It was nice to see the boys ride.  They love it so much.  And that includes my husband.  He had a great time. Even despite the fact that I was out of sorts and cranky. 

Do you want to see my war wounds?



Not the scratch.  The swollen part.  There's a knuckle in there somewhere.



I have one on the other side to match.  I think it's where my thighs hit the handle bars.  Should I do what Micah does and take a picture of the bruise every day to compare how many different colors it will be?

This is the first weekend that I haven't worked in......three or four weeks maybe.  I just wanted to be able to... BREATHE over the weekend.

 But my mind wouldn't let me.

Just to much stuff going on in there.

I hate that I can't shut it off.

We got home today around noon and my husband sent me to bed.  It's now 6:10 and I'm still in the bed.  I should probably do something.  Unpack.  Eat something.  Start some laundry.  I just don't want too. 

 I have no idea what the work week is going to be like.  Stressful no doubt.   My job is....complicated.  Because it's so personal....I have alot of people to keep in the loop.  The bosses family for one.  And other people.  Administrative people.  And sometimes the family is better for one thing and sometimes the administrative people are better equipped. 

But they both want to know everything that is going on.  But they don't want the OTHER to know what's going on. 

I am trying to keep both parties happy.  Which is impossible at times. 

I also have to deal with privacy issues with my boss.  I'm taking care of her emails now....I print them out and she reads them and tells me what to reply back.  She will have me write, "I'm feeling better everyday!  Let's do lunch!"

And I want to say.....

 "Listen  I know you want to go to lunch with her but I am telling you RIGHT NOW that that is not going to happen.  And I know I just told you she is doing fine...but those are her words not mine and I ASSURE you ....she is NOT FINE.  In fact she is dying.  And if you knew how sick she was you would be over here in one hot minute."

But I can't.

 And I am so afraid that after she is gone...her friends and some of her family are going to ambush me and string me up by my toe nails and whip me for not telling them how sick she is. 

But I can't.  She doesn't want anyone to know. 

And that's alot of weight to carry. 

Anyway...I didn't mean to go on about work.  This was supposed to be a post about a weekend full of bright, sunny pictures of my boys. 

But I didn't take alot of pictures and like I said...I just wasn't feeling it.  We are already planning another trip.  Hopefully in August or early September. 

Maybe that weekend post will be much better.

This week may be skimpy in the blog department.  Maybe I'll throw in a  "what color is the bruise today?!?!" blog if I have time. 

If not...just remember that the blog silence doesn't mean that I've checked into the loony bin.   I am still hanging on.  What else can I do?

Oh but can you imagine blogging from inside the loony bin?!  That would be most interesting reading. 

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I have always wondered what kind of mother I would be to a girl.  I have a feeling I would definitely be harder on her then my boys.

Having a girl scares me.

 How in the world would I be able to raise a confident, strong daughter when she would see me loathe my body, change my clothes three times in disgust, second guess everything I do and scream for the boys to take care of anything I don't want too.

I would be so afraid that she would turn out just like me.

I wouldn't wish that on anyone.





So I am better off with boys.  However that doesn't stop me from thinking about the fun things about having a girl.

I would love to decorate her room like this....




I cringe at all the princess and Barbie stuff.  That said I was the girliest girl ever and wanted to be Cinderella more then anything.  I also would have no problem buying my niece princess stuff.  But if I had a girl.....I think I would stay as far away from that stuff as possible.  I came across a photographer named Jaime Moore.  Her daughter was turning five and when she researched themes for a birthday party....about 95 percent was Disney Princesses.  Check out what she did instead.

 Seriously.  Check it out.

 The photographs are some of the most beautiful  I have ever seen.  Read the quotes too.  My favorite is Helen Keller.

http://www.jaimemoorephotography.com/2013/05/09/not-just-a-girl/

Of course a girl in our family would have to ride a dirt bike.  And i can just imagine how my heart would swell if she beat the boys.  She would be the next Tarah Gieger!





My boys don't like to read and my girl surely would and we would pick out books together and read them and talk about what we thought!




I know I'm dreaming here.  I would most likely get a girl like this.....





She would probably be mouthy and difficult and refuse to let me decorate her room, fight with her brothers and hate reading.

Still.....a girl can dream.

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I'm at work.  It's 2:55 and I have one more shirt to iron.  At 3:00 a friend of the bosses (let's call her Joan) is coming to drop off soup.  She has wanted to drop off soup for about a week but "food drop" off is very stressful for the boss.  She feels bad if we don't invite the dropper offer (!) inside.

 But she's not up for company. 

 And she doesn't like alot of food in the refrigerator.

 And she doesn't really like food anymore either.

 But she still has to eat.  And so does her husband.  And quite frankly...I am all for food being dropped off because that means I don't have to help her figure out what's for dinner.
 
I hear the garage go up.  It's the bosses husband.  He has been traveling for a couple of days.   The dogs go crazy.  I let them out because the dogs barking drive HER crazy.

The gate buzzes.  It's Joan. I open the gates.  I rush and greet the bosses husband  and help him with his bags and then run outside to meet Joan.

"Hi Joan!  I'm so sorry but the husband just got home, and it's kind of hectic inside now and she just doesn't want any company.  Please understand...she really does want to see you, it's just not a good time."

Joan is amazing and Joan understands.  She gives me a hug and I start to cry and she says mighty good things about me and I shush her because it is so very hard to take a compliment.

I lug in a huge bag of four different kinds of soup.  Three for freezing and one for dinner.  I quietly rearrange the already packed freezer so I can stuff the soups in there. The boss and her husband are in  the kitchen.

The phone rings.  I always answer it.  It's Ruth.

Ruth: How is the boss today?
Amy:  She's good!  (I'm lying.  But the boss is 20 feet away from me so what can I say?)
Ruth:  Did she get to go out of town with the husband?
Amy: No, no she didn't.
Ruth:  How did that make her feel?
Amy: UH....I'm not sure.
Ruth:  Your not sure?
Amy:  Right.  Yes that's right. 
Ruth: How does she feel about the nurses coming?
Amy:  UH....I don't know.

At this point I want to scream at Ruth and call her a idiot.

Ruth:  I would like to bring dinner sometime.
Amy:  OK...maybe next week?
Ruth:  I'll email you.
Amy: Great.

I hurry and put the rest of the soups away. I'll text Ruth later to explain.  The boss wants to know who it is and what did she want.  I told her who and about the food.

"I don't want anymore food!"

"I know.  I know.  I told her so."

I unpack the husbands stuff.  I only have till 4:00 to wrap things up so I can greet the nurse.  I turn down the bed, get the dog food ready for the next day, finish the shirt, put the ironing stuff away.  Clean the laundry room counters, mop the floor and vacuum the rugs.  It's 74 degrees in that house and I am sweating.  The heat makes me crazy.

The boss is wearing a coat and a sweater.  She can't get warm.

The phone rings...it's another friend.

"How is the boss?  When can I come and see her?"

"We will see...not today.  Not tomorrow....call again on Thursday".

The husband makes a business call in the laundry room. I think he does this to make me crazy.   The gate rings.  It's the nurse.  I hurry to meet her and say...."Please come in fast so the dogs don't go crazy.  The husband is on the phone right inside".

She obeys.

The dogs still go crazy. 

 The husband scowls at me and the dogs.

 I take the nurse to my boss.

 My boss says,"I need Joan's number."

I take out my phone, find Joan's number and say, "319...."

"No, no, no!  It's starts with a 9! Go look in my Rolodex".

I don't tell her that I have been talking to Joan almost every day for the past week to try and coordinate the drop off.  And that my number is right.

I go to her office and search.

I look under her last name.

"I can't find it."

"Try under her first name!"

"Found it!  It's 319-****"

The boss says, "Oh."

The gate rings.  It's the pharmacy.  I open the gates.   I need those medication for my bosses husband.  I wait outside.  I hear the dogs barking.  Where is the driver?!?

I call the farm manager.

"Where is the driver?  I just let him in but he's not here?"

"Oh ya.  The pharmacy guy gave me the pills.  Do you need them today?  I'm at the shop."

"YES!  I'm waiting outside!"

The farm manager swings by and throws them out the window.  Not really but he's ticked he had to come back over.

I'm ticked I'm still at work.

We are both in bad, fussy moods.  Just regular people trying to make the rich extremely comfortable.

I go back inside.  I hug my boss goodbye.  She gives me a small container of soup.

 She asks,"Is that enough for your family?"

She's dying and she thinking of my family.  I lie and tell her yes, it's plenty.

On my way home I get some milk and the ice cream pictured above.  I put a casserole in the oven.  But I am starving so I dump the soup in a pan.  I can't wait.  Ive had a English Muffin today and that is all.  I eat a bowl full of cold soup.  It wasn't so bad.

I eat the ice cream.  It is WAY overrated.  It tastes nothing like chocolate cake.  What a sad disappointment.    

I write this post.

I reread this post.

It doesn't really make since.

Or give you an idea of how chaotic my job is.  You would have to hear the noises.

 The dogs.

 My boss, giving me instructions while the phone is ringing.

 Telling me what to say while I'm listening to the other person.  After I had just told the other person that the boss "Is not available."

That's what we say...."She's not available". 

 Not...."She can't come to the phone".  "She can't breathe".  "She can't talk very well".  "She needs to save her energy for other things".  Or,  "She just plain doesn't want to talk to you".

I say, "I'm so sorry.  She's not available.  Can I give her a message for you?"

I think I'm a little stressed out.  

I'm feeling really weird these days.  Like there are two of me.   There's the "Amy" at work who is dynamite when it comes to keeping it all together and who can pacify and calm and comfort everyone and everything. Pressure and problems are something that happens daily but she can solve and remember and can turn a bad situation into a good one.  She is praised for being the best at what she does.

 Then there is the Amy at home who can barely form a complete sentence tonight and has the hardest time keeping anything together.

 She falls apart on a regular basis.

That Amy would never survive under the other Amy's work conditions.  Maybe that Amy IS the way she is because of the work Amy.

Wow.  Read that sentence again.  I just confused myself.  

If you had any doubt that I was crazy.....here you go.  I just handed you the craziness on a silver platter that my boss has about twenty of.

We are going camping this weekend.  Two days of not answering the phone, counting pills, fielding questions, making everyone happy.

Until then...Can you please just tell everyone that I'm not available?  Can you just take a message for me?  Thank you.   

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I inherited many things from my father.  My love for books.  My love of the country.  My blond hair, bad eyes and addiction to Chapstick. 

I have tried to go other routes.  Check out all of these that I found in various spots in my bedroom and bathroom.




This doesn't count the four tubes of other lip moisturizers that I carry in my purse. 

But nothing beats  good old plain chapstick. 

Did you know this is a genetic trait?  I have proof. A text from my son....






It was a tough day for him.  I came to the rescue though and made a stop at Walgreen's on my way home. 

Even though we have other options...there is no substitute for the glorious goodness of chapstick. 

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Saturday I went to work.  I finished packing my boss up for a trip I knew she wouldn't go on.  But I did it anyway.  Before I left she was watching the movie Sophie's Choice.  She had never seen it before.  She asked me what the choice was.  I said, "Are you sure you want to know?!?"  She said yes.

I told her.

Saddest movie ever.

I made monster cookies when I got home.

My husband bought me some farm fresh eggs.  A dollar for a dozen.



The boys had some friends over so I made them dinner then stayed in my bedroom.  From what I heard I believe there was a strong man competition, wrestling and a shooting match.

I was asleep by ten.

I went to work today at 7.  I saw this.


It reminded me of headlights.


I wish I would have had my big camera with me.  I wish I wouldn't have been driving.

I arrived at work and guess what?  The boss decided not to go out of town.

I unpacked her.

I wonder at what point does the dying stop planning for the future.

I came home around noon and slept for two hours.

I'm not ready for tomorrow.  I feel like I could sleep for days.  Next weekend we are going camping.  I'm ready to get out of here for awhile.

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~From my husband.  To me. 

(you all have a nice weekend.  see you monday.)

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