Lesson's learned

We are in the throws of a semi-renovation.  I say semi because we aren't tearing down any walls (yet).  But we are painting and putting in new flooring. For a couple that has never been able to paint even an inch of our own space, this has been a project to say the least.

I guess we could have made it easier on ourselves by doing what most normal people do.  We could have stayed with mom while we were done with everything and then moved right on in....happily ever after.  But, as you know, we were ready for our own space. So we are, day by day, doing what we can to get our house, and lives, in order. 

I've learned a few lessons that I thought I would share with you. 

1.) When buying paint for walls, take a test strip and tape it to your walls for a couple of days to make sure it is the same color you thought it was in the store.  And if your best friend mentions that it "looks a little more blue than gray," BELIEVE her.

2.) When buying curtains, measure them.  If not you will get to the store and wonder just how many you'll need. If you find yourself in this situation, buy the extra curtain.  It's much better to have an extra curtain than to run short.  Plus, if you save the receipt, you can take it back if you don't need it later.

3.) When painting walls, throw away the plastic container that you roll your paint roller in.  Use a bucket and a paint screen.  All the cool kids are doing it!!  It's not nearly as messy and you won't waste as much paint.  This is coming from my step-dad, who was a professional painter for 20 years. He knows what he's talking about =)

4.) Got a toddler running around your feet while your trying to get some things done?  Give her a toy broom and have her "help you paint the walls."

5.) Buy vinegar.  I have heard it before, but never really put it to use.  Vinegar is some dang good stuff.  Seriously, you can use it for just about anything.  Don't believe me?  Check out this page www.vinegartips.com 

6.) Take it one step at a time.  I'm a very impatient person when I want something done.  Also, I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to certain things.  When we bought the house, we knew there were some things we wanted to do to it to make it our own.  As the days went on, there were other little things we found that we would "come back to."  I'm not good at coming back to things.  I want it done, and done right then.  This does not work when there is a list of things, and no time to do them.  I've had to realize, that nothing is perfect, and everything can be fixed....in time.

7.) Don't be afraid to ask for help.  This is also something I am not good at doing.  I absolutely hate asking people to help me.  I feel like it's my house, my responsibility, so I should be doing it myself.  This doesn't work when you have a husband working 60 hours a week.  It's nearly impossibly to do everything by yourself.  Family and friends are the reason we moved back after all.  If they are willing to pitch in, don't be afraid to hand them a paint brush. 

We are putting our floors in Saturday....ourselves.  Dad is going to show us how and then we'll roll up our sleeves and go to work.  I'm sure by the end of the day, I'll have plenty more tips =)

No Biting

In yesterday's post, I hinted at some kind of something that has interfered with us happily moving into our new house.  I might have overstated it a bit.  It's really only a small thing and doesn't affect us actually getting into the house.  It's merely a nuisance for myself. 

Let me back up and tell you what happened.

Monday morning, we were sitting in the bank signing our mortgage papers.  I noticed that my arm was kind of itchy but nothing too crazy. We finished the paperwork and went on about our day. That evening I noticed that the spot that was itching had a bite mark there, with a white pocket.  Thinking it was an ingrown hair or something, I squeezed it. *Note to self: Never squeeze it!*.   Within a few hours, I noticed I bump where the bite was and around it was starting to get a little inflamed.  Still, nothing too serious.  I put some witch hazel on it and kept going.  The next day I woke up to this:

The red had started to get bigger and a pretty little red streak had started up my arm.  The streak worried my boss and she made me go to the doctor.

After looking at it, the physician's assistant said she wasn't sure what it was that bit me.  Maybe a spider, but not a poisonous one (if it was poisonous, it would have been turning dark colors on me).  She prescribed me an antibiotic and a steroid, plus told me to keep taking my Zyrtec (for the antihistamine.)

After three days, when it wasn't getting any better (and I started to get a little panicky), I went back to the doctor.  By this point, the red had spread even further down my arm and was itching like crazy.  She looked at it again and decided to have the doctor come in to get a look.  

The doctor looked at it and seemed concerned.  He sent me to get about 3 gallons of blood drawn to make sure there was no infection in my body.   Everything but the cultures (still waiting to hear back) came back normal.  He prescribed me another antibiotic and told me to come in the next day to see the doctor at the Saturday clinic. 

The next morning I went in.  I had a few people in the office ask about my arm. Apparently, everyone wanted to see this random, unknown origin of a bite.  The doctor that morning looked at it and was stumped too.  She didn't think it looked like a spider bite, but for sure "something got ya."  She was fairly certain that the red streak was not infection, but just part of the allergic reaction.  To help with the itching, she told me to take Benadryl and Pepcid (apparently the Pepcid helps with the H2?? and should help with the itching.)  I'm suppose to go back Tuesday morning for a follow up.  Supposedly, it's going to take at a minimum 7-10 before it gets better.  Fun, Fun...(or not!)

Every morning looks bad because I've slept on it, but here is what it looks like this morning

It's crazy itchy and warm.

So lets count everything that's currently running through my body.  2 types of antibiotics, 1 steroid, 2 types of antihistamine, and Pepcid (not sure what that is.)  That's 6 pills I have to keep track of and it's not improved today.  Needless to say, I'm so ready for it to be gone!

Sold

Hello blog world. This might possibly be one of my most favorite posts to write.  Why?  Because I'm writing it on my computer in my very own house.  Yes ma'am (or sir) we got ourselves a mortgage. 

It's a cute little house.  Three bedroom, two bath, brick on two lots of land.  It's just the right size for us.  We are doing a small amount of work on it, so no pictures yet, but I'm really excited for it to be done and to show it to you all.

Yes, we have transitioned from living out of suitcases to living out of boxes.  Boxes aren't any more fun.  I tried decorating them all pretty, broke out the Bedazzler* and everything.  I just can't make it enjoyable.  But the important thing is that once these boxes are emptied, we will be Done.  Done living like vagabonds.  Done trying to organize our lives into a 12x12 room, and, I can't be more happy about that.

If you know life, you know that nothing is completely painless and smooth (Debbie Downer warning. wah, wah, wah)  This also goes with our joyous little story, but I'll hold off going into that for another time.  Let's just all take a moment and enjoy the fact that the Pruitt's are in a home of their own....okay, so maybe I'll be the only one taking the moment.....you just say congrats and go on about your day.


*I do not, in fact, have a Bedazzler.  I merely used this as a form of comedy.  I had to google it to make sure I was talking about the right thing.   

Chapter Two

Chapter two of my so called story involves me and Jarrod living out of a suitcase for many many months.  When we decided to move back "home," our original plan was to rent a place.  No, I take that back, it was to live with my mom just until we could find a place to rent.  So, two months tops.  That was before we realized that there are no apartments to rent.  Okay, maybe a couple (as in 1 or 2) but nothing that we liked.  We were use to living in Nashville, where there was an apartment on every block.  We got back and hit reality.  Okay, no problem we thought.  Just find a house to rent.  Surely that would be easier.  We got the newspaper every night it came out...nothing.  We talked about it, and decided if we were going to be living here for a least a good amount of time, long enough for Jesalyn to go to school, we should probably just look at buying something.  So we got ourselves a realtor (a really awesome one at that: hi Julie!) and started the hunt for a home to call our own.  We relinquished to the fact that this would mean staying with mom a little longer.  You know, "just until we found something.  Surely that wouldn't take too long."   Needless to stay, we are still looking at houses.  The few that we've even liked enough to consider turned out to be less than spectacular. 

This all doesn't sound too bad right?  I mean, staying with mom.  Home cooked meals, free child care, and even a free laundry service.  We pay a little in rent each month, but we don't have to pay for utilities and anything else that comes with having your own place.   But, let me set up the arrangements.  Did I forget to mention that my little sister is living there too?  Oh, and did I tell you that she has a one 1 year old that also lives there...and yeah, and her boyfriend too?  So lets count that up shall we.  1 house + 8 people (is anyone good at math?) = CRAZYNESS.  Not to mention that my sis was there first, so out of the 3 spare bedreooms, she had two of them occupied (one for her and one for my neice.)   That left one room for Jarrod, Jesalyn and myself. The good thing is that the bed in the room is a queen, the bad thing is that the bed takes up the. entire. room.  Literally you guys.  We have maybe a 4ft x 3ft space to walk around.  Oh yeah, how could I forget.  My sister also has a dog, a partially inside dog until we got there.  Ten cool points to whoever can guess what this dog picked up about 3 weeks after we moved in?   Yep, you guessed it.  Fleas!!!  And fleas and I do not get along.  In a matter of days, my legs were covered in bites (update: after many, many different treatments, we think we got rid of most of them, but every so often I find one on me just teasing me with another outbreak.)

We were able to fit one dresser in the room for clothes but really, how many clothes can you fit in 5 drawers?   So it basically breaks down to Jesalyn getting 2 drawers, I get two drawers and Jarrod gets one.  I have a duffel bag for my undies and bras and the rest of Jarrods clothes we try to keep folded and layed on the floor.  I know I don't have to tell you that the clothes do not always stay folded so you can imagine the mess.  

Let me preface this by saying I love my momma.  If you've read any of my blog you know how much she has helped us out.  I even love seeing my sister and adorable niece every day. The first couple of weeks were actually kind of fun, but what's that phrase? Twos company, threes a crowd?  I don't even know where to start on eight. 

This has been our lives the past five months. Things are looking up though.  My sister and her boyfriend found a place to rent last week so I've been able to move Jes's clothes to another room.  That gets mine and Jarrod's clothes off the floor.  Also, we are looking at another house this weekend. Cross your fingers for us?!

Nadir

How do I even begin to start telling you about the past however many months it is now that we’ve been back in the good ‘ol state of Illinois? I guess the best place to start is where every good story starts: at the beginning. The beginning of 2012 started out like any other crazy year we’ve had since being married. I was working full time, Jarrod was working, and little Jesalyn was in day care. We were in Nashville, the place we so desperately wanted to get back to after moving away for a year and half. Life wasn’t perfect, but we were doing it. Living the dream, also known as scrapping by, paycheck to paycheck, but we were doing it without help from anyone but ourselves. As the months went on, our precious little savings account started to dwindle, but we were determined to stick it out. Something would come along, we told ourselves. I was really hoping for a promotion at work, one that, in my opinion should have already been given to me. I had had a few interviews and just knew it was in the cards for me.

I got passed up for one job, and then another. And then, I had heard through the grapevine that I was about to be offered a job only to find out a week later that due to “reconsolidation” they had to give the job to someone else, but “not to worry, you’ll for sure get the next one!” Not only did I not get the next one, but there were some upper management changes and I got stuck with a jerk-butt for a corporate boss. Over the next couple of months, my self esteem at work went from a 10 to about a (-)5. I never, in a million years, would have imagined the situation that I found myself in. I loved my job. Of course, there was corporate junk that you have to deal with in every position, but I thoroughly enjoyed coming to work. I was consistently one of the few on top in sales and felt good about what I did. And then, as fast as a storm blows in, everything changed. I won’t bother you with the mumbo jumbo of it all, but to put it in simple terms, the company changed the way we did things. The change was disastrous. Not one employee enjoyed it, and it was really hard to incorporate into our daily routine. But we tried. We tried really hard. I am the type of person, that if you want me to change the way I do something, I need to understand it. Understand it, work with it, and mold it into something I can realistically do on a daily basis. This did. Not. Work. The company I worked for was big, and it was “do it our way, or there is the door.” I was trying to do it “their” way, but I had to make it fit me for it to be a normal daily task.

Anyway!!

So, all this to say, some words were said, some coaching was done, and I came to work and cried for about 2weeks straight. The final straw came when a man, three bosses up, came to my office and reprimanded me until I was crying, yet again. But this time, there were co-workers and customers looking in on what was happening. After he left, unblocking my doorway, I decided that I could no longer do it. This company that I had worked at for 6 years didn’t care a lick about me. And looking at myself, I did not like who I had become. I had always enjoyed work. Enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment when I did something right, and the joy of moving up in a company. This is not who I was anymore. I went home and talked to Jarrod and we decided then and there that we were done. We would move, yet again.

My sister lives in Paducah, and after visiting, we decided that we really kind of liked the quaint town (with the 2nd best coffee shop I have ever been too. The first being the one I worked at in college.) I applied for a job, with a different company of course, and made it to the 2nd interview. I was feeling really good about it. I started to see the light at the end of tunnel and then I got the call. They offered the job to an internal candidate, but to “keep applying because I was the next choice and would be a very valuable asset to their company.” All I heard was “thanks, but no thanks”

We went through all of our options and the one we kept coming back to involved us moving back home where we both grew up. I tiny little town in Illinois. We had family there, a support group of sort. I knew I could not keep working the same job, our savings account was slowing disintegrating, we had always talked about moving back anyway when Jesalyn started kindergarten, and wouldn’t you know it, our lease was about to expire. It was now or never. All the pieces added up. The only thing missing was jobs. Neither one of us had one and we knew with what we had saved we couldn’t last more than about 4 months. After lots of conversation, tears(all from me of course), and praying, we decided to take a leap and do it. It was the only thing that made sense, even without the jobs. We applied for jobs and about two weeks before moving day Jarrod was offered a job. The only stipulation being he had to be there in three days. This meant, leaving me and Jesalyn in Tennessee to pack up an entire apartment and move by ourselves. It was time to put on the big girl panties….or call mom =)

My mom came down and pretty much packed up my entire apartment while I worked, and literally on the drive back I got a call and was offered a job. So now we both had jobs lined up. Now all we needed was a place to stay…..but I’ll leave that for chapter 2 =)



Thanks for reading……

What dreams may come

      I had forgotten how therapeutic it was to write until I wrote that last post, so alas, here I am again.  Screw the "over your data usage" mumbo jumbo. This girl is gonna write. 

      

     So, last night I had a dream that I was racing...over bridges. Big, wobbly, bridges.  Now, if you don't know me, know that I'm deathly afraid of heights. I mean terrified.  I have never set foot on a ferris wheel and don't even joke with me about riding a roller coaster.  I have a couple of recurring dreams that take turns replaying in my sleep.  In both of them I am either walking or driving along a bridge.  Every. Single. Time the bridge begins to shake and breaks in half and I am either left stranded or start to fall into the water until I wake up.  Back to my dream last night.  I was running/sliding (you knowing everything is a mishmash in dreams) along all these bridges and not one of them even swayed.  I remember feeling a little nervous at first but after the initial start I coasted right through and won the race.  

I woke up feeling a little energized and felt like I should be taking something from it.  Is this Gods way of telling me to not give up?  Face what I'm facing and it will get easier eventually.  I don't know. What I do know is that I am suppose to get something from it.  It felt like a reassurance of something, which is a good thing because right now anything that shows me that I'm not just wasting my time living out of my suitcase for 5 months is okey dokey with me.  But more on that later.  

Until then, thanks for reading!

Gone, but not for good

This long lost blog post is coming from my mommas rocking chair at 530 in the morning and being written on my cell phone.  Yes, this has been my life for the past 4 months.  Ugh.  The last four months. Where do I start?  A lot has happened.   So much, in fact, I probably should save that for another time.  But until then, know that I haven't left for good.  Believe it or not, I've actually had people express their dislike for the fact that I haven't posted anything since like March.   I really wasn't sure many people read it. You know, voluntarily.

All this to say, whether its for you or for me, I'm not gone, just away for a while trying to get my life in some kind of order.

And for those of you who read this for pictures of Jesalyn, she is still just as perfet as ever!  I would post a picture of her but I can't seem to get it to work from my phone.   =)

thanks for reading....

BGP

So, we are in the throws of potty training.   Okay, so maybe not the throws, more like we are buckling down and getting serious with it.

Jesalyn turned 2 in October.  We bought her a potty chair when she was like 18 months thinking we were going to get a one up on the dreaded potty training and have her done by the time she was two.  Basically what this translated to was: We bought the chair, showed it to her so she could get use to it, had her sit on it a couple of times, and then it got set aside and used as a step stool.  We broke it back out once she had her birthday, she sat on it another few times.  She even peed in it once, and to our surprise got a #2 out of the way.

At this point, we thought if she can poo in it, this will be a piece of cake!  This is going to be so easy.  Now, if we were smart parents, we would have continued with it from there, but alas, we got lazy and the potty chair got pushed aside again. 

The teachers at her daycare have slowly been working the kids on their PT skills.  Jesalyn has set on the potty but has never actually went at school.  I was picking her up last week and in her folder there were some tips on how to get started.  I was talking to the teacher afterwards and our conversation went a little like this:

Me:    so, ya'll are still working with the kids on potty training right?

Teacher:    Yes, they are going to be in smaller groups in the next couple of weeks so we'll be focusing on it a lot more.

Me:    That's good.  We've tried working with Jes, but she just doesn't seem to want to actually go potty.  She just wants to sit on it.  I've heard that a lot of parents just start them in underwear and do away with the diapers altogether.

Teacher:    Oh yeah.  That's how I taught my daughter.

Me:   But that can't really be done at school though right.  You would just be changing clothes all day if they had an accident.

Teacher:    Actually, we have one kid here that comes to school in underwear.  But he is pretty close to being completely potty trained.  He just tells us when he needs to go.  His parents pack an extra set of clothes just in case.

Me:   cool

Now, at this point, I'm all like "what in the world!  He's potty trained already?!? "  My competitive spirit kicks in and  I decided at that moment, that when we got home Jesalyn was going into her Big Girl Panties (BGP)

I got sick the next day, so that didn't happen. BUT, sick or not, this morning we broke em out.  And can I just say there is not a more cuter tush than my baby girl in her BGP.  =)

It's definitely not been easy, we've cleaned up plenty of messes, but I'm proud of my little sugar bee.  She sure is growing up fast.

Oh yes, there is nothing wrong with drawing while going potty.  All the cool kids do it.

One in a million

So I must tell ya'll this story.  It's a tear jerker.

Okay, so maybe not, but it made me cry.  But that's probably because it's about my child and ever since I became a mom I have become the biggest cry baby in the world.  This is your warning so that when you see me, you don't talk about babies growing up, lovey dovey stuff, or about the Cardinals winning the World Series.

 I take that back, talk to me about my redbirds.  I love talking about the redbirds. Did you know they were the wild card with no chance to even getting in the playoffs and then made the biggest comeback ever!  I know, I'm digressing.  Talk to me about baseball, but not about anything sweet or sad or you'll see me tear up.

So, the other night we were laying in bed with Jesalyn. Yes, she still sleeps with us.  Throw the stones, I know it's "not right" and "bad," but we miss her when she is in her bed so for now she stays.  We were laying there telling her good night and kissing her check.  After kissing her, we each told her we loved her.  And then she did the sweetest thing in the world.  I even made and illustration for you below.

She wrapped one arm around my neck and one arm around Jarrod's neck and says: "I love you too guys!"

It's all in the shake

Pretty much, every person reading this (a big thanks to all 3 of you) fit into one of two categories when something embarrassing happens to you and no one else sees it.  You either keep it to yourself or you let it out. 

I am the latter.  So much so that if I don't tell someone, I'm like a balloon stuck to a helium tank, I bust.  It just keeps nagging at me.  As soon as I spill the beans, the nerves go away. Almost like it's okay or not embarrassing if someone else knows too.

Normally, my husband is the lucky person that gets to hear all my silly stories.  This is simply perfect because he is the type that can't stand watching someone else getting embarrassed because it embarrasses him even more to watch it.  Needless to say he is Not a fan of American Idol.

So, the other day I was at work right??  Doing my thang, it was going good.  I had gotten to know my customer a little bit (a man in his late 50's maybe.)   There were some professional juices flowing.  I felt good about myself.  I felt like a real grown up (I'm great at my job, but I look younger than I am so when an adult older than 25 shows me some respect in the business world, I know I did good.) 

We finished what we were doing and he stands up to leave.  I tell him thank you and he reaches out to shake my hand.  At the e.x.a.c.t moment he does this, I pick something up from my desk with my right hand.  What does this leave for me to shake hands with him? Yep, I shook his hand with my left.

Now, I know what your thinking.  Just put the paper down and give him your right.  Of course, if I had had time to pause and think about the situation I would have done just that.  But, as with most things in life, it was a split second.

So instead of a nice firm handshake, he got

...and out went all my business mojo....so embarrassing.

Frozen in Time

Being a parent is some tough work.  If you have children you know this.  You also might know about the feeling you get when you realize that your child is growing up.  

Why didn't you warn me of this?!?

Every stage we have been through with Jesalyn has been our favorite.  Even the newborn nights when she screamed her little lungs off every. single. night.  Even that was perfect, because somewhere in the night there was this time of utter peacefulness.  After she was fed and her diaper was changed, she would let me rock her to sleep.  At 230 in the morning, when the whole world was sleeping, I was awake (watching World Series Poker) and rocking my sleeping angel in my arms.  She would get all snuggled up on my chest and just dream away.  Yep, pretty perfect.  

And then came the next stage.  Trying to crawl and sit up.  By this point, she was sleeping all night which meant I got to sleep too and we still had our "moments" together during nap times.  It was so fun watching her learn new things and try new foods.  You could literally see her little mind working.  I knew it wouldn't get any better than seeing her take her first few steps by herself.  How did my tiny baby get old enough to walk?


But now, my tiny baby is talking to me.  Making me laugh.  Asking me if I'm okay when I hurt myself.  Cooking me food (fake food, but food nonetheless) and being the best dang mommy to her baby dolls.  


Can I freeze this time?  No, really?  Like, can I just stop her from getting any older and just let her be this age forever and ever??  It makes me tear up to think that in just a few short years she'll be all grown up and mommy and daddy won't be the coolest people in the world to her anymore.  


...until then, I'm gonna soak every single minute of her up.  

 oh yeah, Happy New Year to ya!!