Being brave...and failing.

When my husband and I first started dating, we camped A LOT.

No electricity, no running water (aside from a half-dry creek with carp the size of my thigh trapped in its pools).

It was early enough in our relationship that my entire existence revolved around being fantastic at everything he saw me do (and being undeniably attractive while doing it).

This is a high hurdle to jump when you’re trying to be a camping hardass and have a paralyzing fear of the dark (especially outside).

One particular night comes to mind…

We were alone in the summer night.  Darkness had fallen on the valley.  I, trying to be cute – yet woodsy, had worn a pair of overalls and a tank top.  I was very skinny back then (weren't we all). The pants hung loosely around my hips, the tank was snug.

(Shut up, it was the style back then…or 5 years prior to then…whatever)

I looked hot. I remember like it was yesterday.

At one point during the evening – my love took a walk down the creek while I tended the fire.


Be strong! You know there are no bears or wolves or big cats in a 200 mile radius of here. Nothing is going to come out of the darkness and eat you.

I squinted in the direction that he’d walked. My face stoic in case he could see me in the light of the campfire.

It’s quiet enough that nothing will surprise me. Be brave! Don’t let him see you freak out this early on. Don’t let him see the dark side…yet.

I poked the fire. I stepped back to admire the stars, the quiet - still holding onto the poking stick. I grew up playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I could totally bust a move if necessary.

See, you’re fine.

And then out of the flames – as if from the mouth of hell itself – flew the most obnoxiously gigantic insect I had ever seen in person!

I swung in the darkness blinded by the fire. Miss!

Then, it happened.

The insect FLEW DOWN MY PANTS!!

HOLYFUCKINGSHIT!

I girl screamed, folks.

I don’t DO that. Especially when I’m actively trying to play it cool.

I dropped trou as if I had rehearsed the scene a hundred times.

He came out of the shadows to see the woman he’d been courting doing the heebie jeebie dance beside the fire in her tank top and undies.

I explained my situation, emotionally scarred by the experience.

The culprit emerged from my pant leg.


It was a Dobsonfly.

They look like this…

Yeah, that’s what I thought! Thankyouverymuch!!

He thought all of this was simply adorable.

People like to tell me stuff...and I feel obligated to be nice...until they lift their shirt

I thought I'd give you a follow-up to my dentist visit...

Let me just say that I didn't know the hygienist prior to yesterday.

I now know that she has two biological children and one stepson.  She's been married 2 years, and with hubby number 2 for 4 years total.

(She is apparently unable to talk and work on my mouth at the same time. I appreciate a hygienist that pulls her hands out of my mouth to get a response from me...but I can hear just fine while you're picking at my teeth.)

Up and Down, Side to Side

My gums are bleeding.

Why?

Well, because I have an appointment with the dentist today.

I can completely undo my floss-when-I-think-about-it ways with vigorous last minute action.  He might be a professional, but I'm that good.

I am six years old.

A Haunted Anniversary

All I knew was...

1. that we'd be inside or walking (rather than hiking and camping - for packing purposes), 
2. the room wouldn't have a TV or radio, and 
3. roughly what part of the state we'd be in. 

A weekend away!

My mom came down to stay with Babygirl.  We left Saturday after lunch.

After driving for hours into the hills of south central Indiana...we stopped in Story, Indiana.

Not quite on the same page

When I was a freshman, I was asked by a senior to the homecoming dance.

This was something like two weeks into my freshman year.  The only reason I even knew a senior was because we'd spent all summer doing marching band drills and the week before school started we were at band camp.

*Insert flute joke here* --pun entirely intended.

The guy was nice. Super nice. Friend nice.

And gentlemen, what does that mean???

Not a snowflake's chance in hell of anything happening.  Ever.

Weight Check Wednesday

In less than 6 weeks, I turn 30.

For some, that milestone has passed. For others it has yet to come.

In all honesty, turning the big Three-O doesn't carry too much weight for me. Except that I'm carrying too much weight to turn the big Three-O.

(See what I did there? Literary genius... Please hold your autograph requests until the end of the post.)

No - seriously! - *sits on hands*

I set this goal back in August, made the commitment in front of all of you, had an utter breakdown, followed by a hell week at work (which involved almost a strict diet of Reese's cups and root beer - shoot me!).

Let's just say that I started out on August 6 needing to lose 16 lbs to meet my goal weight...and now I need to lose 21 lbs.

In 5 1/2 weeks I'll be posting a follow-up picture of myself.  I've promised - I've committed. It's pushing me.

It isn't about the weight - so much as the shape of my body.  I used to not care what my body looked like - mainly because I didn't have to work at maintaining a weight.  Then I gained...and gained...and felt horrible. Not because I was heavier, I just FELT horrible. 

The last time I felt good about my body was when I was about 7 months pregnant.  I loved my pregnant body, curvy and lovely.  (No one loves their body in the last few weeks of pregnancy - it's really a freakish, stretched-beyond-recognition situation.)  I simply want to love my body again - and for me that means the jigglies have got to go!


Warning: If anyone else tells me - you look good for being a mom - I'll throat punch them. Period.

I've dropped the weight a couple times before - so I can do it now.  Emotionally, I'm better.  My head is clear and my goals are focused.  No time like the present, people!! No excuses!!

I have started Week 1 of P90X's Lean program.  I'm eating smarter, working harder, and sleeping more.  All for the sake of ditching my fat pants.

I have two work trips in December and don't need to repeat the breakdown again.

I'm not going to continually blog about my progress. That's boring, and I've worked hard to get all of you readers to come and visit me...no sense in turning you all away now that you're comfy!

Each day, I do post my workout activities on Twitter. Follow the hash #weightcheck and add your progress if you wish! :) I won't try to sell you shakes or anything - PROMISE!

This is where I admit that I can't save the world

Last week, I decided that I was going to save the world.

With cloth diapers.

I was going to be more world-conscious, add a bit of crunch to my footprint.  Keep them diapers outta the landfill.

(I was also severely sleep deprived)

Luckily, I have a friend close by that offered me a few trial cloth diaper setups.  In fact, if I liked the ones she gave to me - I could keep them! SCORE!

Saving the world AND saving money!  Fantastic!!

Ugly laughing causes people to stare, but because its miraculous healing powers are that evident

Last week sucked.

If you follow me on Twitter, you already know that. If you unfollowed me on Twitter because I was being whiny posting "pity me" tweets at 4:30 in the morning after being up all night - it's over. Come back!

Don't get me wrong. I don't mind working - I'd rather work hard than be twiddling my thumbs (yeah, I'm an over-achiever...I know it's obnoxious. I can also wake up smiling and bubbly - but only if I know it destroys someone to wake up to morning sunshine shitters - an obnoxious, over-achieving, asshole I am).

Afraid of the dark

I have always had a issue with being in the dark.  It was never the darkness that scared me, but the not seeing that goes along with it.

I am a believer in ghosts/spirits lurking among us.

That is as far as I've developed the theory. I don't know who or what or why or how but I believe they're there.  Except when I'm sleeping or having sex because - uh - ew!

When we were kids, my brother and I would "camp" in our family room.  Meaning we'd pull out our sleeping bags, raid the couch for cushions, and end up fighting after bedtime.  The tv in said family room had a blue speck in the middle that never quite turned off. It used to freak me the hell out.

Now, I live out in the woods in darkness.  No light from any neighbor can be seen from our house - even on the darkest of nights.

I am surprisingly comfortable with the dark here.

Every sound has a name: cricket, frog, opossum, raccoon, coyote, deer, squirrel, bird, wind, trees, leaves, katydid, truck on the highway.

A bump in the night (even if I'm not sure) is often attributed to a nocturnal creature foraging for food.

When the winter darkness blankets my morning drive, things get a little funny around here.

We have a resident owl that claims our home inside its territory.  It's a barred owl.  He or she (I'm not sure who the prankster is) will sit in the large maple that leans over our driveway.  It is likely using the light gravel of our driveway as a contrast for the voles, moles, and mice that might dare to scamper across.

It never fails.

I'll be clambering for my keys - in darkness as we have no light that shines on our driveway and cars.  The light driveway is enough for my eyes to adjust and keep me from crashing into my car as I approach.

Just about the time I'm nearing arms' distance from my car...

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The barred owl will call.  I will either (a) nearly shit myself, (b) drop or nearly drop my keys/purse/child, (c) shreik, (d) jump and nearly fall if snow/ice is present.

I swear you can hear it snickering in delight. Owl 213, Cort 0.

There are mornings that I have it together enough to remember that prankster, and those mornings he will either not do it or will wait until I think I'm in the clear - release my breath...and then he does it!

It's a funny quirk of living in the woods.  Even with the twitchy fear of the dark, I can find humor in a bird getting his jollies from scarying a jumpy woman in the morning.

In the next week or so, I have a feeling my winter friend will start keeping score again.

Wordless Wednesday

Work blows goat ass this week, so I don't have time to write.

I decided to post a picture - you write the caption!!

Fall is in the air

Autumn is my favorite season.

Hands down.

The maple, basswood, and dogwood reds. The poplar yellow. The oaky browns.

The senses are filled with the last glimpse of summer - the reservation of energy - daring winter to give us its worst.

Squirrels thunder through the leaf litter - scrambling for each acorn.  Deer lurk silently - peering through the brush.  Chipmunks call incessantly.  The last of the migrant birds head south and the locals fatten up on the remaining seeds from the growing season.

A new era in social drinking

If you would have told me a year ago that I would be spending my Friday nights alone in my bedroom drinking...I would have said that I have gone down "that" road - cut me off.

Oh, but I can still claim that I am a social drinker - even when I'm alone.

Thank you internet.  Thank you Twitter.  Thank you @TheBlogess of http://thebloggess.com/ for hosting #wineparty.

Happy ONE to my little one

Some people look absolutely stunning after they have a child - they glow.  I. Didn't.  I looked like the victim of a hate crime.  But, I digress.  It isn't about me today.

It's about the little one who turns ONE today.

She was perfect in every way from the first time I laid eyes on her.  I was terrified.

This was the moment I first saw her face.

Since that day, we've dealt with many things...jaundice, learning to breastfeed, illness, colic, teething, tummy issues, weaning from breastfeeding, more teething...

October 7, 2009: Today, a year ago

I won't do these posts continuously...but today - one year ago - is VERY important to me.

I was 13.5 months pregnant (actually, it was the day before my due date). I was miserable. I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't eat.

Her feet were in my ribs.  Her head was scrubbing against my pelvic bone.  She could kick like a donkey.

She had hiccups.

I could grab a hand or foot if it pressed hard enough on my belly.

I knew she was ticklish.

I was 99.9% sure of the name we'd call her - but until now, we just called her "Sprout."

Avoiding tears in a crowd

We play music as white noise in Babygirl's room.  Our walls are paper thin, our dogs are large and bark-happy, and occasionally we enjoy having conversations in the living room (adjacent to her bedroom).

At first, I thought it would be sweet and meaningful to have her dream to the sounds of her Daddy's cd - the music that he played the day I met him, while he courted me, and that he performed on our wedding day. After 3 weeks straight of rocking my newborn to sleep - grinding my teeth to the songs I had once adored...I changed the cd out.

Bump in the inspiration road

Hi everyone,

I'm sorry I haven't posted as frequently these last few days.  Our family has suffered a loss.  In theory, I could blog on the topic of death and loss and sadness or life and love and happiness. 

In reality, I just don't want to do much of anything but be there for the ones that I love.

Coming topics include:

• Oddly-timed tears at conferences,
• Drinking in bed
• The baby we were told we could not likely conceive turning ONE,
• ...and much more!

Don't forget me you fickle inter-world you!  I'll be back in a flash - with more to say than ever!!

My love,
Cort (Modern Super Momma)

I just lived a nightmare

I have a few recurring nightmares.

One of which involves a large warehouse in which I am shopping.  The prices are marked on the items, but I am told by a shady, faceless character that the prices on the items are incorrect.  The prices are listed on the wall.

Fine, great.

Then I select a few items based on the price on the wall - and a second person tells me that the lists on the wall are incorrect.

Customer service is huge on my list, but this is not the "mare" part of the nightmare.

It is when I'm having a mental and ethical wrestling match with the store clerks to get a fair price for my selected items that the ceiling begins to collapse.

Sometimes I make it through the door.

Sometimes I don't.

Ack.