The Fuzzball Chronicles: the Life and Times of Curly Mommy

Sunday night was the final lesson of my 26 week Step Study . I got a bronze medallion to commemorate the HARD work. Sometimes I can't believe how much healthier my spirit, mind, and body are. God is using Celebrate Recovery to change my life, my marriage and my family in amazing ways. Yes, I still struggle at times. I'm sure I always will. I am human, but now I have hope and the assurance that I am never alone. I am learning to allow God to direct my path. By the way, I started another Step Study. It should end in the Spring. I have so much more work to do. I've only begun to allow God to scratch the surface. I want to go much deeper. Here are just a few of the little saying, key words, concepts, or terms that I've learned at Celebrate Recovery. Some are new to me, some are old. Some are precious others are corny and trite. I love them. Progress, not perfection. Keep coming back. It works if you work it. So work it, You're worth it. stinkin' thinkin' Large ...

PRAYER FOR SERENITY God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time; accepting hardship as a pathway to peace; taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is; not as I would have it; trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to your will; so that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with You forever in the next. AMEN - Reinhold Niebuhr - --------------------------- Breathing My friend posted this song on her blog. It touched me deeply. I have everything I ever wanted, but so often I feel like I'm just surviving, not thriving. Anything else would be more than I could handle. I know that those are the times when I should cry out to God, but even that seems more than I am capable of doing. Sometimes all I can do is hide behind my facade and keep breathing.

I know these thoughts are not healthy, But I have to give them a voice. If I don't acknowledge the pain, How can it ever get better? So, Here goes... Where are you? Are you ever coming back? I'm lonely. I miss my friend. I guess you are in survival mode now. The pain must be immense. I don't know. I assume. I didn't cause the pain, So why do you run from me when hurt? Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe I expected too much. I suppose you don't have the reserve to deal with my issues too. I must not be safe anymore. I don't want to add my insecurities to you burden, But I can't stand this silence!

Today is the first birthday of The Fuzzball Chronicles! Wow! I actually did something for an entire year. I'm proud of myself.

I frantically cleaned before Drason, Crickey, and Smiley Boy came over yesterday. Drason has been here before, but it was the first visit for Crickey and Smiley Boy. I wanted to make a good first impression. Well, actually I just didn't want to be totally embarassed. Of course, the house wasn't anywhere near as clean as I would have liked it to be. At least the bathroom wasn't disgusting. After cleaning the kitchen, and picking up most of the choking hazards, I came to my senses. They weren't coming to see my house. They weren't coming over to evaluate my homekeeping skills. They were coming to see me. I'm usually comfortable in my messy home. If someone is a true friend, I should feel comfortable with them in my messy house with me. Now I'm not saying that I should subject friends to poopy diaper scent, science projects in the kitchen sink, and a skanky bathroom. I am saying that I need to be more willing to open my door to others in spite of strewn toys, ...

Tater and Little Man are both in school ! They go to a half-day Kindergarten and preschool . Little man goes three days a week and of course Tater goes five days a week. They both seem to enjoy it so much. I'm glad we chose to put them in a school.

Hi, I'm a believer in Christ Jesus who is recovering from Codependency. My name is Curly. God has an interesting way of giving us what we need. I prayed for The Bulldog's heart to be softened. I don't know what God did to his heart, but he softened my heart. One night last week I sat down at the computer and typed out an apology. Here is a small portion of the apology: I feel I must make amends. Our conversation left me with a deep ache that isn’t going away. I’ve never been good at conveying my feelings gently. Sometimes my passion gets me in trouble. I tend to present the unvarnished truth, and it isn’t always received in the way I intend. I think you and I are very similar in that respect. I meant no harm, but my words must have seemed threatening. I am sorry. I simply wanted to share with you how God has been touching me, my family, and my friends. I wanted to share my joy with you. I did not intend to force anything on you or imply that you are doing anything wrong. Pl...

The message was healing, hopeful, and peaceful, but I never even got to relay the good news. I was shot down immediately. I came into the territory peacefully. I soon learned that I was not welcome. The land was guarded by a fierce, angry, jealous Bulldog, bent on protecting what is his. He likes things the way they are. He dislikes change, unless it is his idea. He doesn't like people telling him how to run his territory. My good news was not threatening, but it was seen as an invasion. Now I'm wounded, and in pain. His cold, hard words cut me to the core. I guess that is what you get when you trespass on posted land. I'm not surprised. I was fully aware of the risk I was taking. However, I hoped for a better reception. I hoped that he would at least hear me out. In spite of the hurt, I don't regret my attempt. I was obedient. I don't know what God has planned, but I am praying.

Don't give up, but don't push too hard. Pushing too hard just leads to resentment. Did I push too hard? Should I push harder? Sometimes they seem to want my company. Other times they seem very uncomfortable around me. I'm confused. Should I stay or go? Trying to help. Trying to comfort. Trying to fix. Trying to do ANYTHING to make it better, to make the pain go away. When I try, I meet with resistance. They question my motives. Would I resist too? Yes. I don't want to be controlled. I don't want to be controlling. I don't want to be manipulated. I don't want to be manipulating. I want them to be well. I want them to be whole. I mirror the pain others feel. I feel their aches as if they were my own.

My dad is an adrenalin junkie. Here is the proof in his own words: Well, there I was just flying along at 600 feet, just 400 yards off the west end of my runway. All was well. Except the thought that entered my feeble mind. "I think I'll do an engine-out landing.", my sick brain said. Before I could talk any sense into my own head I had flipped one mag switch. The engine slowed slightly, and much to my dismay, I flipped the second switch. Silence is supposed to be golden, but the silence was not to be enjoyed. One eye on the runway threshold, one eye on the air speed indicator and one eye on the altimeter....wait, that's three eyes. How did I do that. Anyway, I made an Albatross-like landing about 150 yards down the runway. As I sat there on the runway in silence a terrible thing ran through my head, "Do it again!" So I did. The landing went rather smoothly this time. Slid that thing onto the runway at about 50 knots, taxied to a stop and just sat there enj...

Can you see the problem with this cake? I worked on it for hours, Mom watched me make it, Yardboy inspected it, and our babysitter checked it out too. None of us noticed the mistake BEFORE the surprise party. I realized that i screwed it up last night, AFTER the party, when I was looking at the pictures. UGH! GRRRRRR! Mistakes like that just kill me! Cabbagehead would understand. He is a perfectionist too. I made this cake for our Music Minister's 40th birthday. In spite of the glaring error, it was a hit. Everyone said they loved it. I wonder how many of them noticed the problem. This morning I asked the Birthday Girl if she saw the error, and she said, "Yes, right away, but I couldn't say anything." She really seemed to appreciate the thought and effort. Oh, it tasted great too. It was a french vanilla cake with raspberry and chocolate ganache filling. I iced it with vanilla and chocolate buttercream. The sharps and flats are Hershey's Sticks . I tried to make ...

Tater has been growing her hair in hopes that it would be long enough to donate to Locks of Love . A little over a week ago, I was struggling to brush Taters hair. I asked her if she was ready to donate. She said, "YES!" The next day I braided her locks and we headed to the mall. In JC Penney, Felicia cut the braid and gave Tater a cute new style. We don't need detangler any more. Tater misses having "doggy ears" but does seem to enjoy the easy hair brushing sessions. I have the braid, padded envelope, and form. Now I need to print pictures and send it all to Locks of Love. A couple of days later, I realized that one side of her hair was longer than the other. I tried to even it out myself, but just made it lop-sided in the other direction. My wonderful Aunt C fixed my mistake Wednesday evening. Tater's hair looks great!

Tater helped me bake this cake. Then she decorated it with the leftover frosting from the baby shower cake. Great job, Tater!

This evening I made a very special baby shower cake. The mother, J, and her husband have been trying to conceive for years and are finally expecting three little miracles thanks to IVF. The specialists only transferred two eggs, but one of them split into identical twin boys. The third baby is a little girl. I am so excited for this couple. Congratulations J and C. Oh, and here is a birthday cake I made last month. Yes, Barbie and Ken are in the hot tub. I wanted to make everyone at the party laugh, and I succeeded. The cake almost fell apart. It was an engineering feat to keep the thing in one piece. As you can tell, it isn't quite round.

Apparently Summer Blogger Syndrome is contagious. Navy Wife , Drason , and Crickey all have it. Sunny is recovering. I'm trying to recover too. Then again, maybe I'm not recovering. This is a pretty lame post. Cheri and Layla seem to be holding strong. They must take blogger vitamins.

I'm still here, I just can't think of anything worthwhile to say. Instead, I share the words and music of others that have inspired me this week. Brandon Heath- I'm Not Who I Was Linkin Park- What I've Done

A little over a week ago I went to a Vacation Bible School Leadership meeting at church (I am the Preschool Crafts Director). We were served a very nice dinner of bread and olive oil, Caesar salad, chicken casserole, brownies, and tea. After dinner we served each other Holy Communion. I left the meeting feeling rejuvenated, but that is not the point of this post. Before the meeting I met with the Children's Minister and we discussed decorating the four preschool craft rooms. She said that we aren't allowed to hang anything from the ceiling, due to fire codes. That comment triggered a memory that I shared with her. In March 1982, my kindergarten year, our class made umbrellas cutouts from old wallpaper samples. I remember being amazed by the huge books full of florals, stripes, and plaids. I don't remember exactly what color I picked out, but I do remember that is was a hideous floral circa some time in the 1970's. I liked it! The teacher's aid (her name escapes me) ...

The computer crashed. Then, we went out of town for several days. Then, I helped my dear friend make a wedding cake. Then, date night with Yardboy. Then, Father's Day celebrating. Yardboy has the computer up and running again. We are back home. The cake has been eaten. The date is over. Father's Day is past. In short, I'm back. Did you miss me?

My Celebrate Recovery Sponsor came over for lunch yesterday. It was really nice to get to know her a little better. After lunch, I opened the pantry to put something away. This is what it looked like: I told my sponsor that my pantry was a metaphor for my life, or for me. My pantry held many really healthy foods, some that are good only in moderation, some things that are tasty, but harmful to my health, and some that are just plain rotten. This afternoon I showed the pantry to another friend in Recovery. After she went home, I cleaned and organized it. I even vacuumed and mopped the floor. In the past, I wouldn't have worried about the floor. Nobody else ever sees it and it is just going to have stuff piled on it again. Why bother? I bothered this afternoon because of the parallel I saw between the pantry and my recovery. I'm still working on Step Four, the Inventory. It has proven to be a much more difficult task than I thought it would be. I want to do a complete, honest inv...