Feeling like Eeyore

A few weeks ago, I had a horrible day. No major thing caused it, just a bunch of little things, one after the other, building up over time. (Accompanied with not enough sleep.) I won't bore you with the details because they're petty, boring and not important, but the result was that I was in such a negative mood that I became overly-critical of myself. This, my friends, is a dangerous thing. Once you start thinking negative things about yourself, it feels almost as if you end up in a bottomless pit.

Sitting there in my misery, with a dark cloud hanging over my head, I tried to find some uplifting things to read. But the only thing that lead to, was that I wanted to publish a post on my blog saying: "People, I'm tired of hearing about perfect lives. I want to hear about your struggles and your weaknesses. I just want to know that you're human, too!!!!"

I sat there feeling much like George Bailey in "It's a Wonderful Life", feeling as if nothing I do matters. (Don't be alarmed, I was not thinking about jumping off a bridge.) I don't do enough fun and creative activities with my kids, I need to lose those extra pounds, my house isn't always spotless etc. I'm telling you it was bad. I usually have a pretty positive and optimistic outlook on life, but not that day.

How grateful I am to my husband for taking the time to listen to me. That big, crazy guy has a huge heart. He pointed out all the things we have to be grateful for and I finally realized that life really is wonderful. But sometimes it's difficult, too. And that's OK.

Horror movie

Have you ever had an experience that makes you feel as though you're part of a movie? Well, I did the other day. I was part of the cast for the Hitchcock movie "The Birds". My heart starts pounding just thinking about the experience. Maybe re-living it though this blog entry will eventually remove my newly acquired fear of birds.

I was walking to the bus stop the other morning, a quite fine morning, if you ask me. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the flowers nodding at me as I walked by. You get the idea. Quite lovely indeed. This idyllic scene was, however, interrupted quite rudely by a mad crow. He was sitting in a tree, sqreeching all kinds of profanities as I was just trying to make my way to the bus stop. Then, all of a sudden he was right above my head, flopping his evil wings. I am honestly baffled that I didn't have a heart attack right then and there. It freaked me out. Well, he set out on a quest to scare the daylights out of me and repeated the evil wing flopping right above my head again. I could swear I felt his claws touching my ringlets on top of my head. I realized that this was in fact a possessed crow out to get me. So I continued walking backwards keeping my eye on that devilish thing. Once again he flew towards me, so I started waiving my arms like some mad woman, wondering what people in my office would think if I called in sick because I was attacked by a crow. He obviously had some bone to pick with me, because he kept flying at me, but I kept fighting back. When I finally reached the top of the hill and had to cross the main road, he decided that I was probably crazier than him and just kept staring at me from the branch of a tree. I gave him the evil eye, promising that I'd be back the next morning, ready for battle. He must have taken my threat seriously because I haven't seen him since.

Out of the mouths of babes.

And then it was June. I can not believe how fast time flies. You may think that my life is quite a bore since I never post anything on my blog anymore, but you're quite wrong. It's just that there aren't enought hours in the day to get any blogging done.

I thought I'd share a cute Amilia story with you today, though. During family home evening (or family night if you're not familiar with that term), I'd used a bag of candy to illustrate a point I was trying to make during the lesson that night. We were ending the lesson part of family home evening with a prayer, and I asked Amilia if she would like to say the prayer. She started off all by herself, which I love because you never know what she will pray for. She prayed for Selina's throat to get better and then said "and I pray that the bag of candy won't be put away." How can you put the bag of candy away after that!

Is honesty always the best policy?

I've been reading a Jodi Picoult book. There is a picture of Jodi on the back of the book. Amilia saw this picture and stated that my picture was on the back of the book. I looked at the picture and could see how Amilia, at a quick glance, would think it was a picture of me. Jodi and I have one thing in common. The Hair. Other than that, we really look nothing alike. So I tried to tell Amilia that although the hair was the same, it was not me. She kept insisting that it was. (She's VERY determined....) I told her again that, no, it was Jodi, not Mommy. I was really into the novel at the time, so in order to get Amilia off my back so I could continue reading I asked her to get her crayons and then she could draw a picture of me. She liked the idea (SHOCKING in itself!) and got right on it. I looked over and noticed that she had drawn a big circle. "What's that?" I asked. "Oh, that's your big tummy." Nice. Thanks a lot! The honesty of kids.

Then there was an incident the other night that made me re-evaluate my success as a mother. I was reading a Princess magazine to her and we were really getting in to "The little mermaid." Amilia, of course, was Ariel. (I have another story about her being Ariel in the bathtub, by the way, but I'll save it for a later blog entry). I asked her who I could be. "Maybe one of the sisters?" I suggested. "No, Mommy, you're her!" she said without blinking or thinking twice, pointing to Ursula, the sea witch. Now, is that the honesty of kids? I choose to belive that it's the imagination of kids. I refuse to be compared to Ursula the sea witch! I'm a good girl, I am!

Alive and kicking.

In case you happened to stop by my blog today, I just wanted to let you know that, yes, I'm alive and kickin'. I really only have 2 excuses for not being more faithful to my poor, neglected blog.

1. Walking pneumonia. I guess this is a pretty good excuse. I was wiped out for about 4 weeks with a horrible cough, 3 rounds of anti biotics and self pity. Let's just say I was not a happy camper. Enough about that.

2. A more serious condition: Blogger's block. No inspiration or even the slightest hint of desire to post anything on here. Could be a result of the pneumonia.

So there you have it.

Get the bikini out!

Just as I anticipated, the Weather Gods felt a little threatened by my protest and sent some warmer weather my way. Yesterday when I got home from work, the temperature showed -12 C/10 F. I was tempted to get the bikini out and do a little Weather Dance in the snow. (Let it be known that I DO NOT EVER wear a bikini. But if I did, I'd definitely get it out to celebrate the change in weather.)

Note to self: It may be worth writing a letter to Santa next year. It seems that my letters are taken seriously.

PROTEST!

Dear Weather Gods,

Please accept my official, sincere and humble protest against the weather. -27 C/-16 F is cruel. Please show some mercy. I don't mind the excessive amount of snow you've sent us, but I can no longer tolerate the cold.

Although hibernating for the next 4 months sounds tempting, I'm afraid this is not a realistic option for me as I have too many people depending on me.

I know you think we're all vikings up here in the north, but the viking blood running through my veins is very diluted and, yes, I will admit that I am a wimp. Please take into consideration that I have lived many years abroad.

Just a friendly reminder; Norway is not the north pole.

Please grant my wish for milder days ahead so that I can actually enjoy all the snow.

Kind regards,

Tonje