Each Day

I haven't been posting much...again.  I seem to just get in the rut of living life and I neglect forget to take the chance to write my thoughts to remember the every day grind.

Where to start..hmmm...

After loads and loads of laundry...just kidding, I won't go that into detail on the grind of life.  Although, on average how many loads do you have a week?  How do you separate your clothes?  Does grey go in your lights pile or darks?  It can be interesting...

We are definitely moving forward with our little Em.  She has been accepted into our school district's special education preschool.  She will start Monday(!!) and go from 9-12:30.  Be still my heart.  Not just that, but they prefer her to ride a bus to school.  Being the pansy mama I am, I balked.  "Oh, that is alright.  I don't mind taking her..." I trailed off as I noticed their glances and grins to each other.  They had a feeling I might say that.  After explaining the benefits of bus riding for prepping Em for school time and an easier more productive start for the teacher, I acquiesced.  "You can follow the bus in your own vehicle and peek in to see how she's doing, if you want."  What?  No, sheesh. I'm not that crazy/desperate/lonely/empty-nester of a mama.  (ok, ok, maybe just once in awhile won't label me too cray of a mama, right??).  She's just a baby...

Another improvement has been having Jessica from  ABA services come. We are starting to overhaul Emme's every day life. No more are her one word shouts considered a correct request.  Emmeline has the ability to use proper words, it is just too hard/uncomfortable for her to pull them out of her head to utilize them.  But, for her to grow and develop properly, it is something she must learn to do.  So, in order to watch Dora, she must request by saying, "I want Dora".  The same for bananas, drinks, La la loopsies.  Be still my pansy mama heart.  I know she can do it, but change is never easy. Tantrums are becoming quite frequent. It is definitely harder before it gets easier...and this is day 1!!  We had to explain many, MANY times to the beasty brothers that we weren't being deliberately cruel by not just giving Emmeline her strawberry milk when she was reaching for it.   The protective Gavin showed his claws last night at dinner.  Josiah had to leave the room with tears in his big brown eyes and Gunnison shoved the drink to Em when I wasn't paying attention.  Yep.  Definitely gonna have to work to see the efforts aren't sabotaged.

Meanwhile, happy Halloween-ish things have been happening.  Our ward had our Trunk -or- Treat on Friday.  The youth were in charge of it, however a lot of delegation came into play.  The YM and YW totally rocked a haunted maze!  They worked crazy hard and were actually kinda crazy scary.  They thoroughly enjoyed me walking through.  I'm the biggest goober...here I knew the ins and outs of the stinkin' thing and I still squealed like a piggie.  They loved me, let me tell you!  Our beasties and beastette loved the party. Josiah was an army man (no facial paint at all, thanks), Gavin was a vampire (yes, lots of scary facial paint, thanks) and Gunnison was a Doom Shroom from Plants vs. Zombies.  His daddy rocked his costume.  Seriously, when Kit decides to get creative, he is so awesome!  Little miss was a Pirate.  She ran around saying "Arrrr, I pirate!"  It was pretty darn cute.  I would post pics, but I forgot was stuck at the church a couple hours early to an hour after so none were taken by me.   On Halloween I promise not to forget and I'll snag a few.  Hopefully the Sasquatches that are my children will allow it.

I'll leave now...gotta get back to my 6 loads of laundry.  Light greys go in with my lights, dark greys go in with my darks and I hate washing sheets on my beds.  I'm disgusting, I know...bedding is not a weekly washing.

Loads of Laughs

My life isn't always grey...I don't want people to get the wrong impression.  While life is crazy (who's isn't!) it can be so funny, too.  One thing my children aren't is boring.  They keep us hopping and laughing.

Sitting in the car waiting on Gavin in jujitsu
Me: Gunner, go sit in your seat.
Gunnison: Hunter.
Me: Hunter what?
Gunnison: No. I'm Hunter.
Me: No, your name is Gunnison.  Daddy and I named you Gunnison Michael.
Gunnison: But Hunter is a better name. (sigh) You should have named me Hunter (shaking head sadly).

Emme loves flowers.  She runs to the flower beds out front and will plop down in the middle.  Sometimes (gasp) she will even pick them.  This is a little bit of a problem...you see, the flower bed is Gunner's property.  It is our Zombie Protection Garden.  Gunner has named each flower as an equivalent plant from Plants vs. Zombies.  One day he came barging into the house. "Mom!!  Come get Emme, NOW!  She has been picking our sunflowers!  Do you want to not have enough sun?!!"

Last night was a bit of a battle getting little miss to bed.  She fell asleep on the drive back from jujitsu, so she was wide awake at 10:00 at night.  At about 10:30 I was sitting with her in her room; she was kicking her bed angrily.  She stopped, sat up, and called out, "Dora, help!!  Throw me a rope, Dora! Ayuda me, ayuda me!! ("help me" in spanish) Throw me a rope!"

Our beasties are so clever they can be so funny if we just take a step back from the moment and look.  It might not seem funny in their tantrum, but hilarious if you listen to what they say, how they prove their arguments.  I love my beasties so much and I am thankful for the laughter they bring to our home.

Grey Skies

The clouds hung low and grey all day today.  I was peppy this morning, getting up and working hard to be cheerful and get the beasties doing all of their (and my) chores.  I was happy thinking of Kit making it alive through the night long relay race he played a part of despite his toe issues.  He rode safety on a bicycle beside the runners.  He checked in at almost 60 1/2 miles (a major wahoo!!  for my sweetie; he is always amazing me!).  He made it home and took a short hour nap before taking all the kids with him to the official finish line to cheer on the last runner.  I should have been praising the heavens for an afternoon child-less.  They are seriously few and far in-between...but...I wasn't very excited.  I had a rough night with my daughter.  She woke up two different times last night and we ended up sleeping on the couch downstairs (in fact, I woke to realize we were downstairs and all 3 of the beasts were in my bed).  That is just an itty-bitty reason.  The real reason, despite my adoration of our friends Frank and Jen, was it was a Pampered Chef party.  With people I didn't know.  What's the prob with that??  It is a perfect storm for my anxiety to swell.  I hate parties where I know the desire/intent is to sell things...uggh!!  The pressure, even though it isn't really there...is there.  Lurking.  Secondly, chillin' with chicks I don't know is blehhh, blehh, blehh!  I love chatting, visiting, teasing, laughing, EVERYTHING...with girls I know.  I freeze up with unknowns.  I fret whether I might somehow offend them, I don't know...I just worry.  Sigh.

But, I went, and I tried to have fun.  I did.  Then I didn't.  I think the grey just got to me.  

A little girl, barely 2 years old and named Aubrey Lynn, came to the party with her mama.  She was dainty, darling.  I talked and played with her like I did the two  6 year old Dylans also at the party.  The problem was, I compared her to Emmeline.  I compared everything.  And I got sad.

I have not had too difficult a time with Em's diagnosis.  Emme is just Emme.  I mean, I worry a lot of the practical things-how to get her enrolled in the training, going gluten free, etc.  I worry about how I interact with her to make it be for the best benefit for her, but I didn't really, really have a difficult time.  Today I cried.  I got in the car when Kit and the kids picked me up and I cried.  Hard.  There was just so much about little Aubrey that was like Em.  Her big brown eyes, the color and length of hair, her cute little jeans.  She was like Emmeline...but not.  Little Aubrey came right up to me and asked me to hold her (she was quite a people-comfy gal).  She then asked for bites of my food, asked me what everything was, and chatted her way through the afternoon.  Was she cute?  Darling.  Of course Emme is cuter! ;)  What got to me is I compared.  I spend almost all day, every day with my baby girl.  I forget how typical 2 1/2 year old children act.  I forget how grown up they can seem.  I forget their conversation skills, their mannerisms.  Being around someone so like Emmeline and so different...

So, what have I learned once I dried the tears?  I learned not to compare.  Because, for sure, the Lord gave me the best little girl He had for our family.  She is one-in-a-kazillion.  The truth is Emmeline Lili is incomparable.   

Procrastination

Today I almost peed my pants.  Really.  Sweat beaded on my upper lip, I was hurrying practically running to the back, the very back of Michaels. I'm glad I had the forethought to grab a cart, or Emme would have been thrown over my shoulder like a bag of rice.  It was bad, folks.  So bad I wanted to grab myself like I did when I was little (ya'll know you did it, too).  I thought I just might not make it and have a little ginormous puddle of yellow tinged liquid about my toes.

I made it...although the last five steps were made with clenched thighs.

How can a grown girl of 31 almost not make it to the porcelain throne?  I am a habitual procrastinator.  Now, I don't procrastinate big things.  No, I pay the bills on time, I plan church lessons, and buy birthday gifts/cards on time.  In fact, I'm often early!  No, no, I just procrastinate little things like the niggling of a full bladder.  I procrastinate the quick run to the post office-leaving the gifts and cards languishing unsent on my counter.  I often receive quick thoughts to send a card or a give a call to check on a friend, but they pass just as quickly, momentarily unheeded by my procrastinating self.  I wonder what good I could accomplish if I would slow down (or speed up) to pay attention to such thoughts, trips to the post, and taking the time to run to the loo.


I definitely wouldn't have written this post 3 days after the experience! ;)

Knowledge

Tonight YW's was a personal progress activity.  We reviewed scriptures on knowledge, wisdom and how they apply to temporal living and our spirituality.  It got me thinking...I love information.  I adore knowing and learning, but I don't always take the effort to seek out ways to learn.  My favorite venue of learning is at someone's proverbial knee-my father's, father-in-law's, bishop's, or college professors'-I want them to shed their light, knowledge, down to me.  I love someone teaching me.  I have begun to appreciate and seek out learning via books.  I have always adored fictional literature, but seeing how I can't quite make it back (*yet*I will make it back, when the timing is right) into a classroom setting, I have also learned to enjoy and appreciate all the information to be had from non-fiction books.  I have gleaned knowledge regarding everything from gardening to autism, cholera to Marie Antoinette.  In reading the scriptures regarding seeking out the best books, learning, I understand.  Do I think my love for fiction is wrong?  No.  But, I have found I can truly expand my mind and use it for purposes other than entertainment when I read.

Another point I appreciated from the scriptures was the difference between wisdom and knowledge.  I person can be a scriptorian, but unless they practice the faith and precepts found in the scriptures, they are not truly wise in the scriptures.  It got me thinking...am I wise in the knowledge/info I teach my children?  You know, practice what I preach, etc.  If I want them to internalize and see the wisdom of the teachings of the gospel, I need to work with them practicing the meaning and intent of the gospel.  Knowledge is information; wisdom is knowing how and when to apply the information to our lives.

Definitely something for me to think on...

A Hero

Today is just a quick thought...I have been thinking a lot about my husband, Kit.  He is an example to me.  I have been down on myself about my lack of determination to follow through with watching my food intake and exercise output.  I want to...I just want to allow myself to not worry about it as well... ;) Then there is my husband.  For those who didn't know him pre-coast guard, they wouldn't believe he shunned exercise and couldn't stand the thought of watching what he eats.  Kit has made and is trying to make being healthy his hobby.  This is a very difficult thing for someone who doesn't like to work to be healthy (I know, it's me, right!).  He has been and is an inspiration to me to me in his waking up early (he would regularly sleep til one if he could), chugging away at his exercise of choice, and helping me plan meals that are healthy and hopefully yummy.  I know I lift him up in other areas of our life, but this is one where he carries me.  I am thankful for his heroism of healthiness.

If you want to follow his determination to get healthy and help cheer him on, you can find him here.

I love you, babe!

In My Mind

Ok, so I slid off the journaling wagon...I can do this, I can do this.  I do want to record things for posterity, I just don't know exactly how/where to do it.  I want to share the things in my mind, but I don't know if I want people to read them.  My mind is a little weird, I tell ya!  I don't always feel up and up and there are so many struggles, just like everyone else has. I'm not sure I want to add more to the world.  But, I'm not necessarily writing for the public.  I think I'm just writing to write in a journal right now.  We'll see if it sticks around after YW and hopefully it will.  I need to relieve my burden of guilt (I told you weird mind) to all the un-named few and tell you this blog probably isn't entertaining.  It might be simply up and  down as I am.

So, now to my inner crazy...

Things have been well these last days before school officially starts.  Crazy that it doesn't start around here until after Labor Day.  My boys have become quite bored-complaining there is nothing to do, yet they are furiously riding their bikes (and furiously is a good descriptive for the way they ride), staring fixedly at the TV screen playing video games, popping popcorn and watching movies like this is the last summer of their lives.

Money has been tight, like it often is, but I have tried to make this last part of summer fun.  We've played games, made treats and lazed around.  I feel guilty we haven't done more.  Maybe if I learned to budget money a little better, we'd have a little more to burn. ;)

We have been making inroads into the help we need to get for Emmeline.  It is a slow process with a lot of forms, signatures and evaluations.  I am SO thankful, though, that we are in the military.  Despite having poverty level salary (no joke) we have the blessing of all the medical help we need for our family.  I can't imagine trying to do this on our own without it.  Emmeline has been showing some improvements with her communication.  I am jumping for joy with her self-manufactured phrases of "I want".  Unfortunately her demands usually fall along the lines of cookies, but I'm still excited.  Another form of communication she has recently acquired is her tugs.  She has started pulling me from a room if she wants something not in there or just hanging on my legs if she wants me to hold her.  This is an improvement to crying or using her rote phrases.  The downside to her learning more communication is she turns to more self-stimulating to help her cope.  Typical behavior for ASD.  She has started hand waving/flapping, throwing more tantrums, and using her peripheral vision to look at people and objects.  I am excited to learn how and what to do to help Em to continue to progress.

I have been dealing with all of these changes in my settled life by reading up on it.  It is interesting to read on the theories of causes, therapies and behavioral challenges.  I have learned to be so thankful for the level Emmeline is at.  She is high-functioning and my heart aches for the parents, family and friends of those who deal with much lower-functioning autism.  I am encouraged by the research and the progress made towards helping children with ASD.  It is amazing how much good can be done with the speech and behavior therapies.   Another stressor for me, however, is letting go of the guilt of not doing enough.  I feel guilt about her diet, guilt about how engaged/not engaged I am, guilt about being a hand in her having ASD.  There are so many theories, so many techniques to try.  I'm never doing quite enough.  Uggh!!!  I need to rid myself of the burden of guilt!!  I swear I go through life with this big ol' bag of things I perceive to have been my fault.  I get rid of one thing and I just throw seven more up on the pile.  Aw well...I'm workin' on it.

On another note, I am dealing with a mustachioed man.  Yes, Kit has decided to grow a mustache.  No, I have no hand in this.  In fact, it is well advertised (thankfully! I wouldn't want people thinking I liked it!) by my husband how I dislike the fur sitting under his nose.  I have kept my opinion mostly to myself...mostly...in hopes he won't act like typical Kit (there are those who understand what I mean) and take my deliberately keep it to bug me.  Maybe this hairy phase will only last a few more weeks until his class leaves.  Grrrrr.  What kills me is he is getting both positive and negative attention!  Seriously!!  He has had a few COMPLIMENTS from a couple of higher-ups at work!  Craziness!!  He also has friends fueling him with negative attention...he is now known as "Porn Stache" in jujitsu.  Blehhhh!  But, I will say what I said to him.  I love him.  I will always love him...despite the animal attached to his upper lip.

Alright, I opened the flood gates on my crazy mind...I will reign it in now.  Until later...

Happiness

Yesterday and today I felt happiness.  Little bubbles of bright colors floating around inside.  So, I scanned quickly through the events of the last couple of days.  Nope, nothing stood out.  I have been happy just because I'm a happy person by nature.

Huh...it's been a while.

It feels good.

Being Filled

As I lounge here in my nice COOL home, I have been thinking of how thankful I am of this past week.  It started out a little off...AC died and repair meant ordering in a new part , children particularly tiresome due to heat, and money being tight at the end of a pay check.  BUT- I have been putting reading the scriptures and saying meaningful prayers to the test.  Life hasn't gotten easier, but I have been more able to handle it.  It has been like a little reservoir inside me has been filled, so it took just a bit longer before I was all drained out.  I was more in tune with blessings-the weather has been overcast and cooler (high 80s instead of 90s) which has made living in our home without AC so much more bearable.  All of the wearisome appointments gave us an opportunity to get out of the house at the hottest points in the day.  I have been repeatedly blessed in many ways and would normally have missed them.  I had just a little more patience (I'm no paragon, so any little bit keeps me on the good side of the law) and a little more ummph to help me get through the day.  For that, I am thankful.  

I think I can get used to feeling filled.

Long Time...No Post

I have never been very good at journaling.  Not 20 years ago, not a year ago, not now.  However, having been recently called as the YW pres and having a strong belief that if I ask the girls to do something, I should be willing to do it too...I have decided to push through my lack of ambition and journal.  I find I am even worse (gasp) at writing things down on paper than I am typing, so here is where I'll spill my guts.  

I stopped writing due to overwhelming personal negativity.  I have been too stressed to feel perky, funny, clever in any arena in my life, so the blog was one of the first things to go.  Don't expect this blog to be fab.  If you want fabbity-fab cleverness, check out Whit's blog.  If you want stunning pictures of darling children, check out Steph's blog.  If you want to know the inner craziness of my mind...well, don't say I never warned you...keep reading.

Liberty, negative?!  Uh, I know you're not surprised.  Despite being a glass full kinda gal toward the rest of the world, my view of myself and my capabilities are on the "glass is dry as a bone" level.  It is one of my own exhibits of anxiety, but it slowly starts to erode my ability to fulfill even my lowest potential.  I have found when that begins to happen, our loving Heavenly Father steps in and hands me a job to do.  The kind of job that requires my blinders to be shed and my mind and activities turned to others.  Hmmm, maybe one of these days I'll learn my lesson.  I am excited and terrified of my new calling.  Thank heavens the Lord never expected me to tackle it on my own.  

Other issues on my mind are my darling children.  I love my beasties and I am so, so very thankful I have the opportunity to be a mother.  BUT, I am so overwhelmed right now.  My older boys are dealing with anxiety (thankfully manageable with their medication) and ADHD.  We haven't decided to medicate for it yet, but sometimes I don't know if I can handle them un-medicated.  Gunnison is well, Gunnison.  As his adoring auntie labeled him, he's one "loose cannon".  He is the sweetest, most loving, exasperating child.  He is one big warrior spirit in one tiny, wiggly body.  I throw my hands up on him.  I need to help guide him, but I don't know how.  He is not my older boys.  He is his very own person and I'm not sure how to move around his stubbornness.  He will pray when he chooses to pray.  If forced to say his nighttime prayers, he will resort to demon-voice praying, coughing after each word, or simply pretending to be asleep (with snores and snuffling sound affects).  He is so funny and so...stressing.  

And then there's Emmeline.  My beautiful, beautiful Emme.  Oh, how I love her.  She is such a special part in our family.  She is our last.  She is our sweet daughter.  After noticing a different-ness to her, something not quite right on age, regression, our doctor had her seen by a developmental pediatrician.  Emmeline has been diagnosed with PDD-NOS (pervasive developmental disorder-not otherwise specified), a disorder on the autism spectrum.  My heart hurts, but it is alright.  Emmeline is still beautiful Emmeline.  She is still the same spirit in the same little body.  I ache with both tears and smiles.  Things that make her unique also make her different.  She adores Dora; she hates loud noises.  Her words are only phrases she has learned; she knows all her abc's and has a large repretoire of songs she sings.  She loves her babies; you have to work hard for her love.  She has meltdowns with change; she has a special animal growl (ok, it does sound a little like a dying animal) that means "tickle me".  She is wonderful and a wonderfully large challenge.  I am up to the task, but I am scared.  Scared of all the what-ifs.  I am struggling with parenting my children.  I am floundering all of the time.  Daily living seems to be kicking my tail.  I had grandiose plans of preparing my children for their missions...I am working on keeping them alive and sane.  

Okay, I know the Lord is here for me.  I know if I am struggling, then I have been the one to draw away from the Lord, not the other way around.  Things will get better, they always do.  I have shoulders to cry on, hands to hold, and angels to bear me up.  My burden is light.  I am thankful for the burdens I have.  I know I can handle the ones I have, and I am lucky.

Glee, Frogs and Chickens

Did anyone out there know I love music? I mean I ADORE music. I love how it makes me feel happy, in love, upbeat, spiritual...I love it all. (Ok, I do not appreciate the goodness of angry rap. Nope. Not at all) I belt out songs in the car when I'm all alone and with the radio up so loud I cannot hear my voice and I know, I know I am singing amazingly. I am AWESOME, a supa-star. Then, the song stops a beat quicker than I do (dang I need to watch my tempo) and I hear the sounds emitting from my mouth and I think "ko-kee", the sound the frogs native to Puerto Rico make (thank you, Diego, for that little piece of knowledge). Yes, I do believe I sound like a frog. So, I sing like a frog. Ok. No one needs to know that. It is between me and the empty van. Then, I get a phone call and I am told the Primary is moving me from teaching the sunbeams to being the Primary Chorister. What!? I believe I laughed in their faces (accepted the call, but still kind of poke my finger and laugh at them in an I-told-you-so kind of way). I can't sing! And I can't lead!! Seriously, you wouldn't think it is that hard and it isn't. When you wave your arm up and down like the little sunbeams. At least, that is how I've been leading the singing since I realized I look like a chicken wildly off beat as I try to keep the room full of beasties interested, learning and loving a song. But, I love it. I truly, truly love this calling. The children don't care if my voice squeaks or I can't hit the high notes (or really the low ones, either). They don't care if I lead them with one-two, one-two. They love music as much as I do and I get to share that love with them. It is amazing.

So, in honor of the love of singing:

Missing the South

Happy Fat Tuesday, ya'll! I am missing the deep Southern culture this time of year. The yummy stickiness of King Cake, the spice of boiled peanuts and the fabulous parades throwing beads, stuffed animals and moon pies into the waiting arms of my cheering children. Ahhh, Mardi Gras, how we miss you. I did purchase a King Cake this year, but had to find one at a specialty grocer. ...sigh... and when your children reminisce about how they miss their Mardi Gras school break, you know we're missing Alabama.

So a little feel of the Soul of the South from a band with our {{Albama}} love goin' on...

The Old Saying...

Ya'll know the old adage your parents parroted to you as a youth? It goes something like this..."if your ______ told you to jump off a _____ would you do it?" The correct answer here is "No! Of course not!". Hmmm...if your name happens to be Gavin and we filled in the blanks with "older brother" and "2nd story bedroom window sill" the answer would be "Yes, I would and did. Ninjas can jump that far." *sigh* His poor guardian angels work over-time keeping that kid out of the ER.

Reality Vs. Imagination

And the dead shall rise...no, not a zombie apocalypse, just something worthy of resurrecting my dead blog. What is worthy of such feat? Imagination. Yep, boys and girls, I have found the secret to a happy existence. Imagination. The secret of life is learned from a little child. My beasties have a LARGE repertoire of imaginary scenarios to choose from. The idea occurred to me last night as I was tucking my youngest son into bed. He insisted on wearing a black cloth around the lower half of his face due to the fact he was the "lightning ninja" and ninjas wear black masks. After explaining he might just suffocate during the night and there could be nothing more un-ninja like than that, he settled for clutching it in his hand with the promise of wearing it in the morning. Why would this inspire me? Well, what I haven't explained is he also didn't want to go to bed until he realized ninjas sleep is also like training...you need energy and ninjas can sleep anywhere, anytime (ok, there might have been a little brain washing from me on that one). He decided bed wasn't such a bad idea. Hmmm...maybe we're onto something here. Yep, this morning the wheels were turning and I thought I'd try a little of the imagination thing for myself. And let me tell you, it is AMAZING! See for yourself.

Scenario: I am lounging in my bed.

Imagination: I am lounging in my bed against soft and fluffy pillows dressed in a lovely grass green peignoir. My hair is naturally, of course, cascading softly over my shoulders in large curls and I am darlingly fresh-faced after a rewarding night of beauty sleep. I am relaxing to the sounds of my children laughing and playing downstairs, while I read an enlightening book and munching on calorie-free bonbons (uh, lets make it red-velvet cherries from Albanees, yum).

Reality: (brace yourself) I am lounging in my bed against soft and limp pillows-probably due to the fact they are not much more than dust mite fodder. My hair is a relative rat's nest, yesterday's curls are not handling beauty sleep becomingly. I am not wearing a beautiful peignoir...I am wearing an old tee of Kit's and exercise pants-hmmm, smelling slightly stale...could be due to the fact I have worn them to bed a couple of nights already this week or maybe because my sheets need to be washed. Could be. I know I have dragon breath and the darling sparkles in the air are caused by dust fluttering down from the blades of my fan as it spins. My children are playing together downstairs, but the laughter is starting to get that shrill edge to it, a sure indication of intervention needed soon. No enlightening book, just me clicking away on the laptop, And no red-velvet cherries. Sigh...probably a good thing since they are not calorie free and I would be stuffing them down my throat as fast as my greedy hands can scoop them up. I am chewing on a broken nail, though.

See, imagination is so much better than the reality! The images make me smile...

You may think my reasoning silly, but when I'm smiling sweetly as I separate laundry (Imagination: I'm Cinderella {a beautiful dark-haired version} sweetly going about my chores my wicked step-mother created for me) and you are begrudgingly doing yours, you might just buy into my secret of happiness.