P-I-N-G

I lose things.

ALL. THE. TIME.

[Except weight and insanity.  Those keep hanging around.]  

Seriously.  I need an intervention. [I've said that before haven't I?  Still drinking Sundrop, getting on Facecrack, and hitting snooze instead of meeting my running partner at 5am. Maybe my intervention needs to be stop saying I need an intervention and just do it??]

It is a DAILY occurrence [and I will be honest and say I had to Google the word occurrence just now because I cannot spell a lick] for me to not know where to find my keys.  

Craig says, "Just put them in the same place every day so you know where to look."   [Just a little side note here:  Craig is about as uptight as they come when it comes to organization. He has a routine for getting ready, his clothes are all neatly hung in the closet by shirt color, pants color, etc.  He is meticulous about his Bible study and the materials that go with it.  He even organizes the dirty dishes in the sink.  I can't even close my dresser drawers.  It must be true love...or he's secretly plotting to kill me in my sleep.]

*Insert SHOUTING VOICE here*

HE DOESN'T GET THAT I DON'T HAVE A PLACE TO PUT THEM.  MY PLACE IS WHEREVER I LAY MY KEYS!

I've found them in the couch cushions, inside of books, in the closet, in the kitchen underneath bowls or cups, in the floors, behind the bed, in the car [that's über safe]....Heck, I even left them in the ignition at school one time, with the ignition turned so that it ran down the battery. [Incidentally I called him to come help me jump off my car.  He was so mad at me that he told me no. Hate it for him...his tough love didn't even phase me.]

This past Tuesday night I misplaced lost my phone. 

The kids and I were going for a walk since the weather was nice and time changed.  [I use the term walk very lightly because 25 feet into the excursion Gabe wanted me to carry him.]  Of course, since I've had 4 kids and I'm about to be 43 my bladder literally has a mind of its on. As soon as we got onto the road I told Molly I needed to run in and go to the bathroom one more time. 

Apparently, I handed her my phone.

During my 1000th trip to the potty, Craig asked Molly to move the car parked behind him so that he could go to the Y. She obliged and we went on our merry way.  

We returned home around 9pm and I needed to send a text message.

MY PHONE WAS GONE. [And this shocked NO ONE I live with since I'm pretty consistent with losing stuff. I'm really surprised I've never left a kid somewhere.]

We looked everywhere...the trashcan, the dishwasher, the fridge [I wish I could say I wasn't afraid it was in one of those places but it has happened], under the couch, under the bed, in every room of the house, in the pantry, outside, inside....everywhere.

Molly, Craig and Coop all used the find my phone app to try and locate it.  The app kept telling us it was in the front yard. [Again, I'm not proud but I started wondering if I threw it in the yard. I couldn't remember.  Who can't remember if they threw their phone in the front yard?  Why would anyone throw their phone in the front yard?]

Craig kept asking, "When is the last time you had it?"

*insert SHOUTING VOICE AGAIN*

NOW YOU KNOW THAT I DO NOT KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT.  I CAN'T REMEMBER ANYTHING.  I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER OUR CHILDREN'S NAMES SOMETIMES.  I HAD IT BEFORE I WENT TO WALK.  THAT'S ALL I REMEMBER. [I know he already knew I had NO idea where the phone was or what I did with it. He just likes asking me questions he knows I cannot answer.]

All six of us where outside, iPhone flashlights out, looking along the road, in the yard, around the cars, and really anywhere for my phone at 9:30pm Tuesday night.  The high school baseball team had just ended so there was a lot of traffic up our road.  [I'm 100% positive that anyone who knows us was not the least bit shocked to see all 6 of us wandering like members of a flashlight cult up and down the road and in the yard. You are welcome KM. We love to entertain.]

Guess where we finally found it, over an hour later?  In the car that Molly moved.  She put it in the console and forgot about it. [Most normal folks would have looked in a vehicle first.  Not us. That's way too simple.]  Craig could barely hear the P-I-N-G.  

I guess I'm not that crazy after all. 

Hiding that Crazy

Have you ever had one of those moments that you just look in the mirror and think, "Wow.  I am not sophisticated at all.  Not in the least.  Like there is a major red neck staring right back at me." 

No? Must just be me.

I've struggled lately [a lot] with feeling like I give off the "ignorant-and-should-be-on-people-of-Wal-Mart-site" vibe. [That is a real condition.]

I am very sarcastic [you are welcome] but the older I get I feel like more and more that my sarcasm isn't appreciated.  I have a weird sense of humor [seriously, I would watch Dumb and Dumber or Anchorman any day over Gone with the Wind] and maybe its time to be more a little more reserved.  My kids are at the age where there is always someone at my house.  I wouldn't want to send the wrong impression.  [Of course, it may be too late for that one seeing as how Molly is almost 20 and Cooper is nearing 17.  Oh well.  It may not be too late for the little ones.  *fingers and toes crossed*]

This has become such a struggle for me that sometimes I just want to avoid social situations altogether [which might make some of you happy, happy, happy]. Or I'd rather just write what I'm thinking.  I am so much better at writing than talking. [Now some of you are scratching that noggin' and saying, "Hmmmm....she must be a charmer when she talks because her writing is less than pleasant."]  

It isn't so much that proverbial "what comes up comes out" kind of thing but more not knowing how to not be awkward.  Sometimes I truly believe I'm just meant to play the background...be the wallflower...the wind beneath the wings kind of stuff. I just know that I cringe at my own voice so I can only imagine what someone else might be thinking about me.  [You know how we are here in the South..."Bless her heart.  You know she is a good cook.  She's got something going for her."] 

I am just not really sure if I just sound...you know...CRAZY.  I have had moments where I've kicked myself [literally] after saying something or joining a conversation [or adding my unnecessary two cents]. 

My thoughts have gone like this:

• "Did I just remove any doubt that I am an idiot?"
• "Yes. I am a country bumpkin."
• "What?  You don't understand what I just said?  Me either."

I always want to make a good first impression. 

Now I'm just hoping to scrape off that other first impression and try again with some people.  [Is it too late to go into the witness protection program and become someone with some couth and a tiny bit of "I've-Got-My-Act-Together"?]