Please, help me care.

I've been deliberating for the last 15 minutes if I wanted to blog. I mean, all signs point to Yes! You haven't blogged in over a week Megs! But guess what?

I.

Don't.

Care.

I suppose that statement could be somewhat misleading--indeed, I wish I cared. I wish that I had several entertaining blogs ready to spring on the world. Truth be told, there have been some flickers of ideas where I think, "Ah! I should totally blog about that." But then the moment passes and it's gone.

To sum up, I have lost the motivation to blog. I promise this is a temporary disease--because I love blogging, it's so fun--I just need the proper motivation to spit out my random thoughts. So there you go, my blogging about not blogging. Now next time, perhaps I will concentrate this energy into an actual post.

That is all.

My trip to the *cough cough* auto-mechanic--I mean... doctor

So today I went to the doctor for an issue I've been dealing with for some time. Actually, it's an issue that has been checked over by the doctor before, with tests done and the whole works. In my previous experience after my complete checkup I was told "Despite all of our high-tech expensive tests and procedures, we don't know what's wrong with you. But whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be hurting you too much so just deal with it".... or something that sounded a whole lot similar in my head.

The "issue/problem" has progressed recently and made me anxious (see previous post) so I went back to visit the doctor. Although apparently she had my entire medical history right there on a clip board in front of her, the nurse asked me all the same questions I had been asked previously and made me fill out a questionnaire I swear I had filled out the last time I graced their office. She then informed me that one of those expensive tests/procedures needed to be done, and after some protesting I gave in.

Finally the doctor came in and performed the expensive test/procedure, all while asking me the same questions the nurse had just asked 10 minutes before. Goodness, couldn't the woman have taken one minute to peek at the infamous clipboard that contains all my medical history during the 10 minute interval I had to sit in a very unappealing gown that was precariously velcroed together around.... around me?

At the completion of this expensive test/procedure the doctor said she was interested in performing yet another expensive test/procedure to just "take a peek" and see "what's going on". I informed the good doctor that that expensive test/procedure had already been done to me and with no interesting results. She smiled sweetly and informed me again that she'd "like to take a peek"--who knows, something might have changed! I sighed and traipsed over into the special room where I received the next expensive test/procedure.

Eventually I ended up back in the original room with the doctor, who informed me that my test came out perfect and there was nothing interesting to learn from it. I already knew that--see above. Seeing my frustration with her lack of helpful new information or ideas, she then suggested yet another previously performed expensive test/procedure. I again informed her that I had already had that expensive test/procedure and it had come out fine. She believed me. Yay!

With a sigh the doctor informed me that "Despite all of our high-tech expensive tests and procedures, we don't know what's wrong with you. But whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be hurting you too much so just deal with it. If the problem continues, please come back in a few months and we'll see what we can do." ...(or something that sounded a lot similar to that). Not on your life--I can definitely see a pattern forming here.

I drove home feeling like I had just been to the auto-mechanic (not that I've ever actually been to the auto-mechanic, that's Charming's job:P). I went in to have the specialists figure out what was wrong with one particular thing, and somehow I left with unnecessarily rotated tires and brand-new brakes! Do you ever feel like you get the whole run through at the doctor's office? Like they're not listening to what you're saying or interested in anything beyond their own limited ideas and expensive tests and procedures? So. Frustrated.

Issues

Today I am dealing with blogging issues. You may notice my new background. I hate it. The lines going across the page make it difficult to read. I was just trying it out to see what I thought about the general design when thecutestblogontheblock.com crashed again. Geesh! Can they stay open long enough for me to find a background? Anywho, I had to go and customize everything different so that my blog could be legible during this temporary situation.

I am having a hard time figuring out what kind of background I want. What do you think? Backgrounds are like blogger homes, they give you a feeling of what kind of house you've entered--a happy family house? party-girl nsync lover house? too lazy to make it cute house? ultracreative I'm-a-scrapbooker-house? laid back and happy in the sunshine house? I don't know--I hate these kind of defining-moment decisions. My style is very much simple, clean-cut, but with enough "umph", or style, or class, or whatever to make an impression. Maybe I should move away from this idea and be bold--you know, like those people who buy orange leather couches for their white carpeted living room (please don't say you like that idea, it just made me throw up in my mouth). Feel free to submit your opinion in the poll to the right.

If you can deal with me pledge your loyalty now. If that's too much commitment, you may continue lurking without revealing yourself. Fine by me.

So I've noticed lately that many of my posts (or just regular sentences for that matter) begin with "So". So what? Just pointing out that I'm aware of this idiosyncrasy and I don't plan to change it soon. "So" just seems like a nice, casual way to start a sentence--things flow better with so. I don't do it on purpose, it just flows from me like the universe was meant to be this way.

You may have noticed that my blog background can very well be described as "blech". I am also aware if this. My favorite blog background supplier is apparently everybody else's favorite as well because their service has been down for about a week. So after about 2.5 minutes of heavy internet searching, I found that no other site can offer what thecutestblogontheblock.com can. By the time this monumental discovery was made I had messed around with the template enough to have permanently deleted the cutesy Christmas ornament background I had going on. So now we're just back to blogger blah--but have no fear, the problem will soon be remedied (I hope and pray).

I'm not sure if I have ever stated the point of my blog here on the blog itself. I'm not positive what a reader's opinion of it might be. I know it isn't overly thematic--more random than anything else. Some might think this is a Mormon Mommy blog or maybe a fun way for a SAHM to keep connected with her friends. Although I'm sure many of my posts come across this way, the blog's true purpose has been to serve as my personal prescription against boredom, stir-craziness, and a need to spout my thoughts, ideas, or whatever it is that is on my mind to someone or something besides small children. That's not really something you can put as a header to welcome browsers to your domain, but nevertheless--I think that's the general idea. I simply need something in the universe to listen, even if it is just a blank screen. Fortunately for you (wink wink) it all gets to be posted on the World Wide Web for your perusal and entertainment.

So please forgive me if I spout and it seems a little whiny or ranty. It's therapeutic for me. Here goes:

Actually I've just sat here for the last 4 minutes trying to find a way to say what I'm thinking about feeling without coming across whiny and losing readers. Give me your confidence--or maybe just give me your therapist, I could probably use one. Okay now here goes.

There are some things in life that I've planned and hoped for believing that they will come easily. Lately one of those things has, perhaps, turned out not to be the case. Notice the perhaps--luckily it's there, but at the moment all I feel is doom settling around me in regards to this thing I have planned and hoped for. Lately I have felt strongly that I must be suffering from great anxiety--Charming thinks I ought to get "real help" if you know what I mean. I worry over things normal people sigh about and then forget. I worry to the point of making myself sick. I've received great speeches of hope and trust and faith from loved ones, but I still worry about potential car wrecks, illnesses, and financial problems. This affliction doesn't cover all areas of my life, but it does enough for me to spend part of every day in extreme worry and anxiousness. I will continue planning and hoping, but in the mean time I'm sure I will continue worrying and fretting.

Okay here's some real whining: I'm sick. Don't you hate being sick? I do. Okay now I'll just go take some Sudafed. Dang I forgot we're out. Whiiiiiiiiine.

Now I've probably lost all 9 of my readers. (Shoot, and just when the numbers were starting to go up.) Meh, I'm sure Jayni and Jaction will stay loyal. Feel free to pledge your loyalty in the comments.

Oh. My. (Insert panicky-freakout word of choice here).

So I believe I have mentioned of late that I live at the North Pole--or somewhere very close by. Today church was cancelled due to terrible weather conditions and the hazards of traveling. The high for today on my at home thermometer was negative 9 degrees Fahrenheit. Yich. It was usually colder. The high for tomorrow is about 11 below with a wind chill of negative 40--I don't think I'm going visiting teaching like I had previously planned. Anywho, the point is it has been an awful, yucky, nastified day (weather wise).

I wanted to break up the frigid hours with our regular "quiet time" we have every afternoon after lunch. Lou Lou was tucked in her bed and Charming sleeping on the couch downstairs while Buttercup played quietly near by. I myself laid down in my own room to try and get some serious shut-eye. Lou Lou had other plans and so after awhile I sent her downstairs to "play quietly" with her sister. I would never have done this if Charming hadn't been there sleeping in the same room.

After some time went by (long enough for me to feel rested), I heard some commotion downstairs and then a big whap followed by a heartrending wail. I laid in bed thinking, "What in the world is going on to cause such chaos in my absence?" Charming soon came tromping up the stairs and related the following horror:

Buttercup and Lou Lou had somehow pulled a chair up to the counter in the kitchen, gotten into the cupboards and stolen an open bag of chocolate chips (my drug of choice), grabbed an apple and and orange on the way down, and then for good measure swiped a butter knife--all of which they tenderly placed in a basket. Buttercup then put on her shoes (no coat), and took her coatless, shoeless sister down onto the landing by the front door, where she then opened the (almost always dead-bolted) front door. It was as she was struggling with the semi-frozen shut screen door that Charming found her there, where Buttercup frantically explained that she and Lou Lou were going outside to "visit a friend" (hence the picnic basket).

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! What if they had made it outside? What if Charming and I had both continued to sleep through it all? I know for a fact that Buttercup cannot open the door from the outside. My babies could have literally frozen to death within a few minutes just outside my front door. It gives me chills even beginning to contemplate what that would have meant.

Poor Buttercup was tear-streaked and very "woe is me" when I got to her. I think Charming's reaction frightened her a little. But I wanted to make sure this never happened again, and so I explained to her that she could have died. I don't know if that was the right thing to do or not--the poor child is only three and a half years old. When I said the word die she had another breakdown and seemed quite shocked and scared, but at least now she knows the danger and I'm pretty sure (I hope) she won't attempt to trek through the North Pole again.

The drama was followed by a pile of loves and kisses and I believe all is well once more.

My lazy version of the annual Christmas card.

So I haven't yet reached that place in my life where I'm so organized and cutsie that I send out a yearly Christmas card--not even one with just the family picture and a "Happy Holidays!" tacked on. I do enjoy the cards and letters my mother gets from old friends and extended family, often with creative updates on each family member. So today I started thinking about what my family Christmas card might say as of this very morning. And so I begin my haphazard off-the-top-of-my-head Broughton family update.

Charming: Very neat and tidy. He not only can't study without his "office" being clean, but he threatens a coronary every time he sees that the neighbor kids have walked through "our nice fresh snow" and left tracks right through the center of the yard! An amazing fix-it-guy, he took apart our entire electric wheat grinder, carefully dusted the caked on flour from it's bowels, fixed whatever had stopped it from turning on, and put it all back together like it was new--all within about a 20 minute period. Does the dishes every night. Continually promises to read Twilight but won't give a deadline. Brings Megs roses just because he loves her.

Megs: Needs something to read. Just finished The Hunger Games at the recommendation of Stephenie Meyer and is still seriously confused by her love/hate relationship with it. Why did the author have to drop that bomb in the last chapter? Why did nobody mention that it was the first book in a trilogy, the next book of which will not be out for a year? Started a local book club just to find more books to read--their still aren't enough. Lives in complete terror of, and still fluttering with excitement thinking of the moment when she discovers she's pregnant.

Buttercup: Drama, drama, drama. Is three too soon for a girl to get her period? Because Buttercup is very PMSy. Weeps in gushes like her heart will break when told that she cannot watch The Berenstein Bear's Christmas Tree for a fourth time this morning. Sobs if her little sister looks at her like she might be thinking mean thoughts. Constantly planning her wedding to "Cornelius" from Thumbelina, from her dress all the way down to what will be served at the reception (Princess gummy snacks anyone?). Has recently been scarred for life when her mother told her she could no longer ask "But WHY?" every thirty seconds about every detail on our blessed green earth.

Lou Lou: Has built a summer home in her time-out corner. Might as well be comfortable when you spend half your life there... Completely knocked over the sacred Broughton family Christmas tree this morning, squishing it's fake branches into odd shapes and leaving half the ornaments on the floor. Thinks she's a "kitty-cat" and meows when being rescued from her crib after naptime. Can speak very clearly, but often uses a high-pitched "eeeeeeeeee" to ask for pretzels and the like. Prefers a dolphin to a teddybear at bedtime.

This was just a glimpse--not an overview of our lives and personalities. I love them all so much. And apparently, despite it all, they love me too!

Let yourself go...

My Aunt Betsy is a hilarious woman who has a bubbly personality that makes you feel comfortable and want to laugh all at once. Over the years I have gathered several silly songs from her, some I'm sure she has made up on the spot and many she has pulled from the "funny file" in her brain. I remember once being on a killer hike with her and we were both complaining that we needed to go potty (at least that's what my good manners call it). She burst out: "I'll be gladder when my bladder is flatter!" Much giggling followed.

There is one song in particular from Aunt Betsy that has stuck with me over the years. It is sung to the tune of Let It Snow, and it seems appropriate today:

Oh the hair on my legs is frightful,
But the warmth is so delightful!
And since I've no place to go,
Let it grow, let it grow, let it grow!

It's cold here at the North Pole (that's where I live isn't it? Just lacking elves and reindeer...) and the snow is slowly piling up. I am not in the mood to shave my legs just so I can give myself a razor rash the goose bumps inspired. Nor do I think it necessary to flaunt my legs in 5 degree weather....Charming will understand.

So here's to the fuzzy warmth I intend to retain until next Spring... sometime in May. Will you join me women of the North? Or women anywhere who are cold for that matter? Take a stand and let your legs go.