Before and After (kitchen remodel photos)

So, my first post this blog in part was about my adventure with my kitchen cabinets. My husband was on a military assignment and I was going to tackle the kitchen remodel by myself. So I am going to post the pictures.

BEFORE Check out the ultra sexy green formica cabinet tops from 1996 - looks more like 1977 to me.

AFTER Not to shabby for a chic who doesn't always know the difference between the types of screen drivers and now (thanks to Handy Manny) calls then Turner (flat head) and Phillipe (Phillips) and I can usually get it right. My point - I don't do manly work.

I need to redecorate the top of the cabinets. If you look closely at everything - it might appear to some that I am trying to convert you to a particular religion or baptize you in my kitchen sink.

Then I am going to look like I have been a great mom and post pics from over the summer and a little detail about what we have done. That is because I have slacked - because my little creature has worn my ass out!! We have had fun and that is the important part. So, I have remembered to write the date and event as a draft and am going to fill in the blanks later. Ya'll - I have been trying for 30 years to get my -ummmm - stuff together and have come to conclusion it just isn't going to happen and I need to learn to deal with the best I can. And so it is.

What a week . . .

My husband left this week for a 70 day military assignment. We have done longer assignments so I can handle 70 days but I am not working now and at home with our 5 year old daughter, Carly Rhea. She goes to school two half days. BUT she is a handful (stubborn, strong willed, independent,). She is her mother!! I have at least 25 different projects going on at one time in our house. That number is not really exaggerated. I bought paint at Wal-Mart and put it in the laundry room. The next day (when I went to begin the project) I found the paint can hadn't been sealed properly and I had a bag full of pain and paint all over the floor. Back to Wal-Mart we go. I don't know about you but I am not the type of girl who can go to Wal-Mart and return an item and NOT end up buying other things. Anyway, I painted our laundry right after I dropped Chris off at the airport. Carly Rhea wanted to help - so I let her. I then had to re-do those areas. But she had fun and I am all about letting her make memories and have fun. I needed to fix the shelving in Carly Rhea's room but can't do that alone - project on hold. Bathroom needs to be painted but I can't find a color I like and I don't want to settle. I want a slate blue color (I welcome ideas). And I am redoing our kitchen all.by.myself. That is right. I will post before pictures and hopefully I will be successfull and will post after photos. So, I attempted to work on the kitchen today. Carly Rhea wanted me to jump on trampoline. I jumped for a while - that is something that is truly meant for children. Then she wanted to wash the car (something she has never done before). So, we washed the car. SO MUCH FUN. Then she asked me if I would play in the mud with her. I guess I hesitated because she said "it would mean so much to me". Suddenly, organizing my kitchen, touching up the paint in the laundry room, working on the kitchen, cleaning etc did not seem as important. Carly doesn't care if I can make crafty things from Pinterest and would not notice the things I mentioned above. So, I played in the mud. And now I have a HUGE mess on the floor and shower to clean up but Carly has thanked me at least ten times and has said "that was so much fun". The rest can wait. So instead of a picture of the kitchen - please enjoy the madness of the mud!

It seems like just yesterday your Dad and I were in the basement on a normal Sunday evening. Watching Desperate Housewives, eating dinner (your Dad had grilled steak - WOW - your Dad can grill) and I started feeling these strange pains. They were not too intense so at first I really did not think that much about it. The first pain came and went. Then another. Then another. I did not say anything to your Dad at first because I had made many, many, MANY trips to labor and delivery (only after your arrived to find out it was my gall bladder - everybody thought I was crazy) and I was not about to make another trip if one was not necessary. So, I looked at the clock and the pains were coming about every six minutes. Hmmmmm, interesting. Being the very obsessed planner one would think that I would have had a bag packed with everything for you and everything for me This was the case because YOU were not expected to arrive until around May 15th. I finally told your Dad that I was having pain and that the pain was coming about every six minutes. About 19 hours later -I was able to hold you in my arms and I wispered to you "I have waited my entire life for you". I meant every word of that. THAT truly seems like yesterday. Only, it wasn't. It was five years ago. Where has the time gone? You have grown into a very independent, strong willed, confident little lady. I am told you are my clone. Watch out world. I am very proud to call you my daughter.


When you were a year old your favorite thing was discovery. You were so curious. You loved to take baths and I would sing every single time (to the tune of Take me out the ballgame. You would clap and laugh so hard when I was done.

Take me out of the bathtub
Take me out of the suds.
I've been here soaking since half past two
I feel so sudsy and wrinkl-y too.
Oh, I washed all over my body
My head my toes, in between
I used one, two, three bars of soap
Take me out......I'm clean!

Take me out of the bathtub
I'm stuck here with my toys.
Dumptrucks and squirters I think are great,
But I better take off my ro-o-ler skates.
'Cause each time I get up I wob-ble
I hold on, but it is a pain...
I tried once, twice, three times to stand
Better get a crane!

BATH TIME

FIRST BIRTHDAY

When you were two years old Mickey Mouse (or as you called him Mickey House) was your entire world. You loved everything about "Mickey House". You already had a wide vocabulary and most of the time you very easy to understand. You flew for the first time (to see Daddy in VA). We went to the zoo and you brused donkeys (you called them "gonkeys") and you told EVERYBODY about that. If you wanted somebody to get up you would say "gup". I could go on and on (but that is in photo albums and baby books).

SECOND BIRTHDAY

You never had the "terrible two's". I was so proud. Then, on your third birthday. You woke up and I said "who is this child?". WOW. Things seemed to change overnight. You became a wee bit more difficult. You loved everything princess related. You loved clothes, shoes, dress up, painting your nails and art. Three was a very, very fun age!!!!

THIRD BIRTHDAY

When you turned four, it seemed pretty obvious that you had left the toddler stage and were becoming a little girl. This was hard to watch but fun at the same time because we could have conversations about your day. You talk constantly (I mean that literally - you never stop talking). You ask questions constantly!!!

FOURTH BIRTHDAY

At five some of your favorite things are strawberries,creating your own dance routines, learning to jump in the pool without holding your nose and "going into the deep end". Girl, you have sassiness but you have such a kind heart. You remember to pray for those that you love and random people that we barely know but have touched your heart somehow. At dinner you always say the prayer (God Bless the Moutains,God Bless the Sea, God Bless the Food We Eat, and God Bless Me)and we always do our "Peak and Pit" of the day. Your peak is almost always about being with your family. You never let us forget to pray and do our peak and pit.

FIFTH BIRTHDAY

Yup - I am a little screwed up

I was so proud when I didn't eat. I loved it that my jeans hung on hips. Although I have gained weight - I can still feel this today. It causes a stabbing pain in my heart. It physically causes me pain to know that I am NOT in that position right now. I had so much control then. I could go days without eating. I lived on Rockstar. LOVED IT. I hate to touch my body now. Now, I feel more responsiblity though. I have a 4 year old daughter. She watches my every move. She is very smart. I don't want an ANA life for her but I want it back for me BUT I want to be alive for her. But at the same time there are times that I want to die because I hate this body that I am in. Why can't get the control back? Somebody help get started again? I am so frustrated. I can't live like this.

Welcome back Ana

I am a filthy nasty person. How I lost sight of the big picture agaim is beyond me but I have. Why must I do this shit... so much easier to try to aintain. What an idiot. Today I have had 20 calories so far and it is 11am. Rockstar energy drink saves my life ...Today - I get cutters - so much pain and frustration (over nothing really) and no outlet. My only control .... The onl thing I have control over is not putting food in my mouth and dragging something sharp over my skin to cause pain. If I feel PHYSICAL PAIN even for a second I don't feel as much emotional pain during that moment. It's a distraction. I'm crawling out of my skin. Going crazy. Want to peel my fat off DON'T TELL ME I LOOK HEALTHY! That means fat. Thanks to a new phone I can have proana and thinspo with me 247. Lunch time is now consumed with it. I think I can back on track.

I hate you (yes you that is writing this post)

I hate the way my body feels. I hate the way my skin feels. I hate the way breathe. I hate the fact that right now I am in fact breathing. I want to do things to my body to cause pain (cutting is actually quite a nice release). Cutting causes a temporary distraction from whatever non physical pain I feel - twisted but it makes sense. I love the way it feels to have something sharp feel against my skin - I would like for it to go deeper - but not yet. I am huge fat. I am a failure. I wish I could fade away. I want to fucking shave my head, pierce anything/everything on my body, tattoo fuck you across my head (okay - maybe not) - I am running again (but not enough). I am barely eating - but probably too much. I hate you Ana - but I love you Ana. I want to sleep and never wake up. I am miserable and this will never go away. EVER. THIS IS MY FUTURE. THIS IS MY LIFE. THIS IS IT. I want to cut my skin off. ALL OF IT.

My Struggle with Anorexica and my friend named "Ana" (they are one in the same)

This is long . . . . . but there is a point at the end PROMISE!!!!!!
My name is Emilie and I am 33. I should have figured all of this out by now but I haven't. Me. Life. Things. I think too much. Far too much. It is comical to some but it truly is painful to think as much as I do. I have forced myself through squares that I didn't fit in. Tried to manipulate myself to fit. Then dealt with the inner battle of not being "enough" just not being "right" and then at the very same time being "way too much". Okay, so I will be "real". But what in the hell is "real"?

I am in "recovery" from anorexia. It is still unreal to say it outloud (and my point for writing this will all make sense at the end).

For those who don't know that specific time in my life or the situation - its a time that I miss (sadly). Anorexica-nostalgia - maybe? Damn recovery. Recovery is for losers and quitters.

At the time I was seeing therapists, nutrionist, medical doctors, and was literally shrinking away. Your body literally starts eating your body - your brain and in my case - my hair. I don't believe it is common knowledge but when you change your weight - you change your brain -literally. The really hysterical thing to me (truly) is that the only thing that got my attention is when I went to get my hair cut and was told that I did not have very much hair left. Vanity. Pure vanity.

Just days before I was asking the nutrionist - how I could not eat and stay alive. PISSED OFF - I was so mad that nobody would give me a concrete way of getting my hair back, a way to not eat, and not die all at the same time. I say all of this because anorexia is a disease of the brain and NEVER goes away.

When all of the above was going on - I had almost blacked out in the kitchen one day and had to sit on the floor until everything was "normal" again. The very next day I had somebody make a comment "well, you don't look anorexic", "well, you don't look anorexic", "well, you don't look anorexic", "well, you don't look anorexic". Obviously, it still resignates in my head. I thought I will show you, bitch. It was a challenge. (The bitch titled her head when she said this and I wanted to snap her head off - by the way she had certainly conquered anorexia and then some with the Christmas hams shoved in the back of her pants . . . but I digress). Challenge extended - game on. There went any progress that had been made.

The social taboos of eating disorders and especially mental illness (depression) are just as vicious as they have ever been. They are seen as as weaknesses of willpower or as a defect of personality. The depressed should just "snap out of it". The fact is that even while trying to "get better" things really seem to get worse. Its hell. I can't imagine trying to overcome drug or alcohol addiction - I honestly don't think I could do it. It is an emptiness that simply can't be filled. It becomes self hate. And once it starts - it stays for an indeterminate number of years. And people too commonly just bypass it because of all of the ugliness.

I write this as a challenge - not so much about anorexia but about mental illness in general. Anorexia is is merely a symptom of a huge psychological mess. Think about this - "normal" people (those without any type of depression or anything) have a bad day - one bad day and it is over. But guess what? That is mental illness. This is mental illness.

1. Spend too much time convincing people that small things make life great.

2. Damaged. That what mental illness is. Defect and damage.

3. Tiny things are the only things that keep people going. Hold your breath, hang on and wait it out.

4. Constant need to excuse yourself, to explain why you are the way you are.

5. Fragile - so fragile - confidence.

6. Constant feeling of being inferior, inadequte.

7. Feeling only tolerated by those around you.

8. Never been good enough for yourself or your expectations.

9. Can't make sense of your own thoughts. Knowing your thoughts/actions are not "right" (on a "good day")

10. Knowing it is here to stay - for life.

This is the only way I can explain mental illness and is my point:

(my favorite quote ever)

"The idea of my future simlataneuosly thrilled and terrified me, like standing at the lip of a very sheer cliff - I could fly, or fall. I didn't know how to fly, and I didn't want to fall".

With depression - with mental illness - you have no choice in the matter -you just stand there - holding your breath and waiting for whatever will happen- to happen. Again, the challenge - change your thought process next time you come across "one of those people"

(Last note - my hair will never be the same - vanity - yes - but very sad to me.)