Redneck Advice #27: Never Own a Dog that Looks Like a Rat

It must be said that if you do not live with or have a close relationship with at least one redneck, you are missing out. 'Necks have a fantastically down-to-earth view of the world that is just damn hillarious. Kyle was driving in the middle of nowhere Texas on a rig-move passing through a shotgun town with only a beer store/gas station and one other place of business. It wasn't until the 3rd pass through that he realized the other business was a hair salon called "Curl Up and Dye". AWESOME!!!!!

The night before he was drinking beer with the other hands (he'll be so mad at me for calling them that, ha!) on the motel balconey--in yet another Bumble town--when he saw a shadow of a bird or bat on the wall. In his tipsy state it startled the hell out of him, enough to make him duck. Good thing too, because just then an owl swooped down barely missing him. This incident launched crazy owl and bird stories, cuz if you live in the country everyone has at least a few of those. The funniest, or really the most awful story, was from his buddy who was outside with his dogs, one of which was a chihuahua. WARNING: Stop reading now if this is going to be too much for you...One minute walking along and sniffing the grass, next minute snatched up by a hungry barn owl who mistook him for a rat.
Cue music, "Ooooohhhh, I wish I was in the land of cotton. Old times they are not forgotten..."

What is a Warrior to Wear?

Warrior Dash 2010 is 6 days away. OMG, WTF and IDKwhatIwasthinking and every other acronym under the sun is going through my head as time draws near.
For those of you who haven't heard of it, Warrior Dash is a 3 1/2 mile marine-style obstacle course and race. You get a beer and a viking helmet for crossing the finish line. The only guarantee you have in this race is that you will be very dirty by the end. Cargo-net climbing, walking the plank, mud slide, climbing beneath barbed wire-you name it. I am so flipping excited I can't stand it.
But how to train for this? I don't exactly have any swamps or millitary training facilities handy, so I am just running my tush off--or trying to.
I did 3.5 ml today and it finally felt 'good' (as in no stopping, no cramping and minimal swearing). Last week in order to try to push myself a little more I attempted to insert my own local obtacles in my run, but I'm just not sure that it will suffice.

I am warrior-ing with Michela Palmer, my calm and beautiful, PhD-earning, soccer mom with doting husband, friend. (Thank God she is so sweet because being friends with her might almost be too much to bear, j/k Mic!)
We are both in dire need of a little more fun-crazy, versus crazy-busy in our lives and so...
Some warriors come in costume or warrior gear and we need to decide if we are going to do this.
I am drawing a blank, but I would love to hear any ideas from you. Funny T-shirt logos, color schemes or outfit suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Just remember, we are going to have to move--and slide, climb, run and try not to cough up a lung afterwards--in these getups.

The Truth is I Was Cold-Hard Busted

So I haven't wanted to write about this because it was embarrassing and painful. But seeing as how a seemingly small marital event has me tweaking my views and my attempts at being a better human, it must be laid out.
About a month ago, I hired a maid--a great one, an inexpensive one. I was bringing in steady local deadlines, taking care of my boys and their schedules, had the in-laws coming on the horizon and had hubbie away 80+hrs per week. A no-brainer.
Now that I am done defending myself, the history here is that hiring a maid gets Kyle's hackles up. Let's just say that since I don't work outside of the home, he doesn't get it. (I also spoil him, but that's another blog entirely.)
So while the maid was here, I cleaned out closets, de-cluttered, got all the crap out from under the beds and did laundry down to the last unmatched sock. When he came home, he said (with underserved surprise), "Wow! Did you clean all day?" And I said, "Yes."
Not exactly the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but--in and of itself--truthful enough. But really, is that actually different from a white lie?
So that interface passes by, with me sweeping my crumbs of guilt under my newly cleaned carpets, until the boys come home. BB walks in and asks, (again undeservedly!), "Mom, did the maid come today?" And I said, "No."
Not the whole truth and nothing having to do with the truth. Ugh.
Sure enough it came to blows with Kyle later, because if anything, we are honest with each other. He was beyond upset. I could only self-flaggelate until he believed I was sincerely sorry and I was. Because really, WHY DID I DO THAT? It's annoying, beneath me and petty. All to avoid a snotty comment from him--one that very likely would never have led to any type of argument.
I try to talk to my boys about having hearts of courage, especially when the truth seems daunting, but here I was slinking out the side-door-of-silly-falsehoods for no good reason.
During my apologies, I really wanted to scream and scratch and claw, "I did it because I don't trust you to have an appropriate response to these things. I did it because I wish you would just walk in my shoes for a change to see that my life can also be exhausting and stressful due to your crazy work-life. I lied because I just wanted a damn "pass" for a change." Thankfully for our marriage, I did no such crazy thing. We did discuss--later, much later--some of my feelings, but the fact remained that the argument (or more TRUTHFULLY, the apology session) was about lying, not about cleaning or walking in the wrong size shoes.
And now a month later, I am even more relieved I didn't make (too) many excuses or try to turn the tables because I realized something about lying. While my defenses stemmed from being busted in a bold faced lie, it turns out my logic was completely off. By lying, I stole Kyle's opportunity to understand or respond empathetically. If I really want him to learn to see my side, then I have to give him the chance to do so. And really this to me is one of the most self-loathing parts about the white lie--or any other 'small' sin we choose to indulge in--we lock ourselves into the pattern or situation we most wanted to change in the first place. If I want more time for myself, why fudge the details about how long I'll be at the gym or at dinner with a friend. If I want to lose weight, why pretend like I didn't eat those M&M's or that I didn't skip the workout all week? If I want Kyle to understand that I get tired and overwhelmed, WHY THE HELL WOULD I PRETEND I COULD HANDLE IT ALL?!!!?
Even during months when money is tight, I have a tendency to 'shelter' Kyle and put money matters in terms that sound more easily ingestible. I do it because I worry that he has a hard time being realistic about what a 'crisis' really is and I hate watching him get so worked up (and thus work even harder) to remedy a situation that will pass on its own with a little diligence and a lot of patience. But, here again, I am stealing away chances for him to learn this at all.
I know that I hate difficult times, emotions, situations. Who doesn't? But I also know that I learn a lot from them. I hate that too, but it's TRUE.
Hiding behind untruths and defending our choice to engage in them doesn't actually smooth the edges of a sharp life. It carves the patterns that injure us the most. Every lie wears a path away from our best selves and the lives God intends for us to live.
I am right when I tell the boys that it takes a heart of courage to tell the truth. I just didn't realize courage is bold enough to heal old wounds and bless me with growth.

THE BEST American Idol Moment EVER

Last night watching American Idol.
Me: "Seriously, it's impossible not to like Ryan Seacrest."
Kyle: [Silence.] (Sidenote-Good thing, too, because really there is no appropriate way for a man to respond to that quip without outing himself as a total sissy--unless you are Mike Tyson.)

Man-pause here.

Kyle: "Hey, do remember that dork that co-hosted American Idol the first season, but left the show because he wanted more money?" Scoff/laugh...
Me: "Oh yeah! What an idiot."
Kyle: "Do you know, I think I recognized him on TV the other day."
Me: "Shut up. On what?"
Kyle: "I think he's the Burger King dude with the small hands."
Sound of size 6 1/2 feet running down the hall because I am about to pee myself from laughing so hard.

Crickets? Seriously?


You had to be there.


VH1's "Where are they now?"

Then. (Brian Dunkelman, if you must know.)

And now, Burger King guy with little hands.

OUCH!..Here's Your Sign

I was in Fire class today and instructor/sweetheart Amy was talking about yoga positions that open up the throat chakra to improve your communication. Now you have to consider that this is a funny thing to be telling a group of mostly women, seeing as we girls usually do not have trouble finding something to say.
But it caught my attention because of a book I read a few years ago by Christianne Northrup, "Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom". She is an ob/gyn who says there is no seperation between mind and body, that in fact what you are feeling physically is a direct manifestation of what you are feeling emotionally. In other words, we store our emotions and thoughts in our bodies. Especially with pain, it is often a signal of emotional baggage that we have not dealt with.
She lists the chakras and suggest the different types of issues associated with certain areas--and boy did she nail it.
One of my re-curring problem spots is in my throat--thyroid, a tendency to go hoarse and a few other issues; and this area is, as Amy mentioned, related to communication. Huh? I am a female, a mom, a type-A personality, a former sales rep and a writer--of all issues, you would think I could take a pass on communication. But it turned out that the true root of my issues--especially at the time I was reading this book, wasn't about not knowing what to say. It was about not feeling heard. I'm sure so many moms know this drill--yelling at the kids, disciplining but seeing no change, circular arguements with your husband that never get you anywhere. I was also facing some extreme challenges with my mom and I was desperately lonely from moving half way across the country. It was really eye opening to
"see" a result of the emotional pain I was pretending not to have.
Realizing that my measuring tape did not read "practically-perfect-in-every-way" was humbling, but it was eventually liberating. My aches and pains are waving their hands and shouting, "Here's your sign." And at moments when I am brave enough to look at the damn sign, it typically has an arrow and reads, "Start here," putting me on a path of honesty leading to real healing.