The Cleanse: Week 11 - All the Flowers Have Died...

"...there is no morning dew. The crickets know no love songs, and I feel so blue."

For some reason when I was trying to think of a title for this post I kept going back to my memory of this clip from The Cosby Show. Thanks to the magic of the internet, here it is. It's weird the things that get stuck in your head, huh?

Most people have a junk drawer, or a junk cabinet, or a junk closet depending on your "hoarder level". I think at our house we have all three; but for this week's effort I decided to just tackle the catch-all cupboard right inside our front door.

They call it junk for a reason. I probably gave or threw away 50% of what was inside this cupboard and some of the things were unidentifiable. I'm sure I thought they were important at some point.

Taking up a huge portion of space hidden behind those unsuspecting doors were glass vases; remnants of random romantic efforts over the years. I quipped to Breck that if I wasn't so generous then we wouldn't have such a large collection of these vases gathering dust on the top shelf. She did a quick calculation and reminded me that there are at least 3 occasions per year that might warrant flower-giving; birthday, anniversary, mothers day (and that's not even including the countless "I'm-sorry-I'm-an-idiot" flower-giving occasions) and we've been married for 10 years. There were not 30 vases there.

I'm sure I've already given some away in the past.

The Cleanse: Week 10 - In Defense of Clutter

For those who are counting you may have noticed that I missed a week of The Cleanse.

In honor of this article titled In Defense of Clutter I decided to take a week off and embrace my life in a household with 2 small children that is far from magazine-photoshoot-ready.

We're not a candidate for being on the Hoarders show anytime soon, so I guess we'll survive without purging any excess "junk" this week.

Never fear, my mission to reduce the clutter will resume shortly.

The Cleanse: Week 9 - Contact Lens Wearers Unite! - or - Bald Men Unite!

Whether you like to admit it or not, each individual person from a married couple has some better genetic traits than others that they will get passed along to their children. For example, Breck has great eyes, teeth, and hair that we hope our girls will inherit; and I have...uh...

Oh crap!

Anyway, my eyesight without glasses is pretty terrible. Lucky for me some of the most successful architects wear/wore glasses. But just in case, I also wear contact lenses. For all you contact lens wearers (or former wearers for those lucky laser surgery folks) you probably know that almost every time you buy new lens cleaning solution or when you go to the eye doctor you also get a new contact lens case. Why do they do this? I'm not sure.

I've been wearing contact lenses for about 17 years; as you can imagine, more than a few lens cases have piled up in my bathroom drawers.

I can maybe make the argument for keeping 2 cases, but in the spirit of The Cleanse I decided to purge all but one.

______________________________________________________________

Speaking of getting free stuff at the doctor. Even though my dentist knows I use an electric toothbrush he still gives me a new manual brush and mini tube of toothpaste after every visit. Again, a huge pile of these freebies has accumulated in my bottom drawer.

Out they go.

______________________________________________________________

Not only have I never been to a professional salon for a haircut in my entire life (no offense Aunt Gaye...and thanks for all those free haircuts when I was growing up), but I've also had the same "haircut" for the past 10 years.

It's pretty easy to do myself, and doesn't require many tools. Unfortunately when you buy a set of electric hair clippers they usually come with about 57 extra attachments along with scissors, a comb, and a free coupon to Great Clips for when you screw things up at home.

I don't need all those extras cluttering up my drawer.

The female that I share the bathroom vanity with requires a lot more maintenance tools for her daily routine and didn't participate in this purge of bathroom clutter, so our vanity is now a bit lopsided. I hope it doesn't tip over.

______________________________________________________________

Does anyone else read the words UNITE in the title of this post as UNTIE? Nope, just me? I guess dyslexia is another trait of mine that I hope my daughters don't acquire.

The Cleanse: Week 8 - Goodbye Hello Kitty

Despite my best efforts to keep at least one square foot of toy-free space in our house, there seems to be a constant influx of new toys coming from somewhere. We've tried to emphasize to Skye on multiple occasions how fortunate she is to have so many fun toys to play with; that there are many little kids who don't have any. She seemed to sort of understand, so I decided to take it to the next level. I asked Skye if she'd like to give some of her toys away to kids who don't have any. To my surprise she was immediately enthusiastic about the idea and before the excitement wore off we quickly sorted through a large assortment of toys and set aside a pile designated for D.I. 

As the only male in the house I'm fighting a losing battle with 3 girls (5 if you count the dogs), to eliminate some of the PINK that has threatened to make our house look something like this:

 

and keeping Skye & Lucy's rooms from creeping ever closer to this:

So I made sure to include in the donation pile a Hello Kitty lego dollhouse thingy (accessories included) 

It was a few days before Skye and I made the trip to deliver the donated toys and as we approached the drop-off I worried that she would have second thoughts and cause a scene. All went well until we began driving away and I realized Skye's misunderstanding of the permanence of the donation process when I said:

"That was so nice of you to give your toys to some kids who don't have any," and her reply was, "Yah, but they'll give 'em right back, huh?"

Speaking of awkward parenting moments, isn't it funny how you don't understand the full hypocrisy of parenthood until you become one?

My favorite example of this occurred a few months ago when Skye was given a popsicle and instructed that she could only eat it at the table so as to avoid a spill on the living room furniture. She naturally threw a fit. When her mom gave the ultimatum that she either eat her treat at the table or Mom would take it away and eat it herself, surprisingly Skye chose option B and willingly handed her popsicle over to Mom. Breck then proceeded to eat the frozen treat while sitting on the couch.

Skye immediately noticed the injustice and pointed it out. I sat by witnessing the whole ordeal and laughed hysterically as Breck begrudgingly moved over to sit at the table.

My own personal threat at being outed as a hypocrite came when we recently purchased Skye a bucket seat to ride on the back of Breck's bike. Of course as responsible parents we bought Skye a helmet and enthusiastically encouraged her to wear it.

When I first started riding my bike about 5 years ago I bought a helmet and proceeded to wear it 2 times before allowing it to collect dust in the garage. I'm commuting to work riding around in slacks and dress shoes; Lance Armstrong I am not. Why do I need a helmet? Plus it was uncomfortable ("...not as uncomfortable as having a brain injury" Breck points out), so I never wore it.

Anticipating a potential issue, I bought myself a new, more comfortable, helmet at the same time I bought Skye's knowing it would be easier to encourage her to where one if Daddy wore one too.

It worked (even though mine is black and hers is...wait for it...PINK)

So I had an extra, dusty but barely used, helmet sitting in my garage that made the trip to the D.I. along with Skye's toy donations.

Wearing a helmet is not as bad as I thought after-all. At least I don't have to worry about helmet hair ;)

The Cleanse: Week 7 - These Shoes Used to be Made for Walking

Despite the fact that I sit at a desk most days for the majority of the day, I still do my fair share of walking: The dogs get their usual 1+ mile walk in the mornings; then I push the girls in their stroller the 3/4 mile to "school"; then (if I'm not riding my bike) it's either another 1/4 mile walk to the bus stop or if I'm feeling energetic -- and the weather is nice -- I make the 2 mile trip to the office on foot. 

As a result, the soles of my work shoes end up looking like this after not too long:

 

For whatever reason I sometimes have a hard time throwing the old shoes out after the replacements have been purchased. My inner hoarder at work, I suppose.

Obviously The Cleanse is a reflection of my turning over a new leaf; so into the trash they went -- along with a couple of pairs of yard work shoes that looked a bit like this:

As long as I was clearing off the shoe shelf, I decided to donate a pair of Doc Martins that I had occasionally worn, but not enough to wear out. I never really liked them as they were a little bit too long and kind-of turned up at the toes. I basically felt like I was wearing elf shoes.

Although maybe I jumped the gun a bit as things in the architecture field aren't going super well I have contemplated going back to school. Wearing these too-long shoes I'd fit right in at clown college.

 

The Cleanse: Week 6 - I Don't Adore This Door

I'm embarrassed as a human being and ashamed as an architect that the doorway into to my bedroom has looked like this for months:

I started this project with the best of intentions but then life got in the way. You know; two kids, full-time job, no money (again, 2 kids), oh, and the fact that I have no clue how to do electrical work (see those two light switches dangling out of the wall? They need to be re-wired in a different location).

So although the project process has been slow-moving, the original goal is still in place. I'm going to install a sliding door suspended from the ceiling that when not covering the opening in the wall will slide to the right and cover the area where the light switch now resides (thus the need to move the switches).

Anyway, there used to be a door there, and now there isn't. The new door (yet to be purchased) will need to be slightly different than the old one was. So I had an extra door on my hands cluttering up my garage that I needed to be rid of.

Despite the fact that this door had been cut down to an odd size in order to fit in our low-ceiling basement, I'd thought I'd list it on KSL to see if anyone might want it.

Wouldn't you know it, someone was willing to pay me $50 for this odd-size, used door with no frame or hardware. Done deal.

I'm really great at starting projects; demolition is easy. I just need some discipline to get the projects done. I keep telling Breck that I intentionally make her live in a construction zone for months at a time in order to make her better appreciate the completed projects.

The greater the suffering, the greater the reward. Right?

She's not buying it!

The Cleanse: Week 5 - Luggage (or Baggage?)

My haul to the D.I. this week included:

- A big 'ol bag-o-clothes: As much as I'd like 365 pairs of socks so I could wear a new pair every day of the year, I don't really need that many crowding up my top drawer. 27 1/2" t-shirts? No thanks. Two (yes I said 2) pairs of moose-print pants. Buh-bye.

- Soccer gear: I've long since given up playing any type of competitive soccer. As much as I'd like to, my knees just will not cooperate. I had to face reality and let go of the cleats/shinguards/socks that had long been sitting dormant in my closet. Hopefully one or both of my daughters decide to take up the sport and I can live my unfulfilled dreams vicariously through them.

- Urn?: This piece of countertop clutter purchased on a whim with a 20%-off Bed, Bath, & Beyond coupon that looks as if it could be an urn is, I think, designed to hold toothbrushes; at least that's what we've been using it for. Either way, I don't like the looks of it so it had to go.

- Luggage: We are far from world travelers. When we do find time (& money) for a vacation we've got plenty of other bags to hold our stuff. Hopefully these two pieces of luggage will help carry some other person's stuff on a wild adventure.

- Zen fountain: Inside that mesh beachy-looking bag rests a metal orb Zen-like water fountain bubbly thingy purchased from the Z Gallerie years ago in hopes of gaining some Buddhist enlightenment or something. It didn't work. Plus we've decided we're not cool enough to have anything from Z Gallerie in our house.

- Flashlight on steroids: Grandpa Jay (R.I.P.) gave us this combo emergency battery-charger-air pump-radio-flashlight-flair gun-Batman signal thingy years ago for Christmas that has never been taken out of the box. I brushed off the 1/2" of dust it had collected and threw it in the giveaway pile.

- Cooler: We rarely use these type of coolers designed to keep liquids cold or hot while on the go. We've got 2 others, however, so I think we'll be okay.

- Plastic bin: Where did this miscellaneous plastic bin come from? I don't know, but we don't need it.

- Mini ironing board: Underneath this pile sits a 1/2-size ironing board meant for a dorm room or something. I think we bought it when we were first married and lived in a 500 square foot apartment. We've rarely used it over the past 10 years, plus we've now been given a hand-me-down full-size ironing board (thanks Kami) so if we do ever decide to iron we can actually do it standing up like a real grow-up. How great is that?

Those other items in the background that are dirty and worn and look as if they should be given (or thrown) away are actually items we do use so they survived this latest purge.

The Cleanse: Week 4 - Where Does My Cargo Go?

This rooftop tent may be the next step if we outgrow our sleeping quarters at home; but for now we just need to transport cargo on the roof when we travel.

It's amazing how much stuff 2 little girls require for just a weekend getaway! Who would have thought? Then when we bring our other 2 girls (aka the dogs) along for the ride we quickly run out of storage space in the car. So in anticipation of a car trip to Bear Lake we decided to investigate some rooftop cargo storage options.

Most rigid roof storage boxes were way out of our price range. Knowing we would most likely only require rooftop storage once or twice per year we decided to take the economical approach and just purchase this cheapo (relatively) rooftop cargo bag to get us through.

I guess it's true that "you get what you pay for" because as I was loading this thing on the car for the first time it began to rip at the seams with the first tug on the adjustable strap. At this point we were out of options and out of time so we just made due with our slightly damaged bag, loaded up the car, and headed out.

Fifteen minutes into the trip we were forced to test out it's claimed water resistant capabilities as we encountered high winds and rain on our drive through the canyon.

Two hours later at our destination we assessed the situation and were glad to see that we lost no cargo; unfortunately we did arrive with some damp luggage. (Full Disclosure: After further investigation my lovely wife pointed out that in my haste to get the car loaded I had installed this cargo bag backwards on the roof which played a somewhat significant role in the water infiltration issue)

Even after installing the cargo bag correctly for the return trip I still felt like it was a bit ill-fitting on our particular car model. Also because of the fact that is was already torn after the first use I decided to return it to the store asap.

Luckily I was given a full refund. REI is the best!

So does that count as part of The Cleanse? I didn't really get rid of anything, but I did avoid adding another rarely-used item to our garage storage shelves. So I'm counting it as a qualifying item.

Baby steps, people.

The Cleanse: Week 3 - No Time For Tea

My weekly Cleanse routine got off track already due to the sudden passing of my Grandpa last week and the resulting memorial events that happened yesterday; but I still managed to steer things back around today.

To give you an idea of the continued uphill battle I'm facing with this purging of unnecessary clutter around the house, here is a conversation I had with Breck regarding this week's item:

Pres: Do you want to contribute to The Cleanse this week by giving away this tea set? [while holding up a colorful stack of tea cups & saucers]
Breck: No, I like that.
Pres: Yah, but it's been sitting on our countertop for years and you've never used it even once!
Breck: Okay, I guess. But what will I put in that spot to replace it?
Preston: NOTHING! [with a sigh and an eye-roll as I realize not everyone in my household is fully grasping the concept of my project]

Since we really don't drink tea, the cups and saucers can now be found at the Sugarhouse D.I.

The Life and Times of Grandpa Jay

We say goodbye to Grandpa Jay today who left this earth and went away.
He lived and left in the same way; going away without having much to say.
But that's okay 'cause that's just the way he lived his every day.
Today we remember the life and times of Grandpa Jay.

I hope you are happy today and have finally found some peace and relief.

Jay Arville Croxford
1929-2012

The Cleanse: Week 2 - Is A Vacuum Supposed to Suck?

Marital Disagreement #57: Opinion 1--> It is better to clean the car before a road trip to lessen the disaster cleanup following the trip...Opinion 2 --> Why waste your time cleaning the car before the trip when you know it will just be a huge disaster cleanup following the trip?

Guess which opinion is mine?

I guess I understand Breck's point that it is nice to have a freshly cleaned car when packing up and heading out on a 3-hour drive; but has she forgotten that usually about 37 seconds into the trip our 2 year old will spill her entire bag of goldfish crackers down between the seat cushions?

Oh well, we'll have to agree to disagree on this one. As long as we split the before and after cleaning duties between the two of us I guess we'll never really know who's method is better.

Yesterday, following a fun and relaxing 6 days in Bear Lake, UT and Star Valley, WY our sunburned bodies returned home in a filthy car to a weed-filled garden and a dead front lawn. Because Breck was busy, you know, mothering our children, I was tasked with car wash duties. After returning home from a high-pressure rinse to clean the exterior of the car I began the daunting task of cleaning out the spilled crackers and marshmallows along with the interwoven-into-the-upholstery dog hair.

When the vacuum abruptly shut off about 3 minutes into the task I discovered something: our vacuum sucks! Er, I mean, our vacuum doesn't suck. Whatever...our vacuum does not work. I guess this was more of a re-discovery since we knew this old vacuum was on it's last leg after essentially burning up it's motor from years of almost daily dog-hair cleanup. It had long since been banished to the garage only to be used for really dirty jobs and been replaced by a much better, much lighter, much more attractive Dyson. (wait, did I just refer to a vacuum cleaner as "attractive"...oh crap, what has my life become?)

So the old vacuum essentially worked it's way right into The Cleanse by giving up the ghost rather than making a futile attempt at removing piles of crumbs from the carpet of our car. It also made sense in the spirit of The Cleanse to get rid of 1 of our 3 vacuums. 

Who needs three vacuum cleaners? Maybe a household with 2 large dogs, a toddler, and a new baby? Even so, I suppose we'll survive with just two.

Full disclosure: Because we have been out-of-town and didn't get a chance to put our garbage can out on the curb last week, there wasn't room inside the actual garbage can to fit the vacuum. So it is sitting patiently to the side of the can waiting for it's journey to suck up that big dust bunny in the sky.

The Cleanse: Week 1 - Wakeboarding Mag or Bored of the Wake Mag?

In the spirit of simplifying my life (as much as one can do with two young daughters in the house) I've accepted a self-imposed challenge to give, throw, or sell at least one item from my house/garage per week for the next year. My life is getting too full of stuff -- stuff I don't want, stuff I don't use, stuff I don't need -- and I'm growing weary of the clutter. Breck has reluctantly agreed to allow me this cleanse and has even hinted that she may be willing to participate as well.

Despite that fact that the colorful spines made for a nice visual display on my shelf, I decided to begin The Cleanse by throwing out my collection of Wakeboarding magazines (note: don't panic all you tree huggers out there, this huge stack of glossy paper did go into the recycling container). I didn't realize just how long I'd been holding on to these relics until I began scanning the dates on the dozens of covers as I threw them out; the oldest issue I found was from the year 2000! That means that this habit had survived the initial purging of my childhood memories when I got married and moved into a tiny apartment in 2002; and had since survived 3 more moves to eventually reside collecting dust on the bookshelf in our current house for the last 5 years.

I'm not sure exactly my reasoning for holding onto this timeline of the wakeboarding industry for the last 12 years. When I stopped to think about it and couldn't recall even once going back to scan the pages of a past issue I decided it was time to let them to go.

Now I've just got to resist the urge to fill up that empty shelf with more stuff.

The Quest for Perfection

I have felt an immense sense of pressure lately while designing a client's "dream home". It is a time-consuming and extensive process and I want -- for everyone's benefit -- for it to turn out perfectly.

Perfection is such a ridiculous word.

Obviously everyone at the table has their own ideas and visions of what the end result will be and those ideas often don't match up as nicely as one would hope. I've have had to remind myself (and the client) lately that numerous compromises --for numerous reasons -- must be made in order to actually get something built.

It's frustrating.

I was comforted today, however, after watching a documentary about Frank Lloyd Wright; who is often referred to as "The Greatest Domestic Architect of the 20th Century". It was revealed that in his quest for the perfect residence he was revising, remodeling, and reworking some of his greatest works right up until his death.

So I suppose if it was a lifelong quest for Frank Lloyd Wright then my only hope is to live two lifetimes if I have any chance of getting it right.

In that case I guess I should just smile and enjoy the journey...

Lessons on Fatherhood

Everytime I read this poem by Shel Silverstein I think of my relationship with my dad:

SMART
My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more than one!

And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes -- I guess he don't know
That three is more than two!

Just then along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!

And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!

And then I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head--
Too proud of me to speak!

[I hope Shel doesn't mind if I add my own poetry to the end of this post]

I know we don't give each other hugs
As much as we maybe could
I know we don't say 'I love you'
As much as we maybe should

But I know what I know
Because you're my dad
And I know that I know
That is sure makes me glad

So thanks for teaching me how
To earn and save a nickel and a dime
And thanks for bailing me out
'Cause I didn't listen most of the time

I love you dad!

Bein' A Dad

These song lyrics by Loudon Wainwright III seem to sum up my feelings about being a dad pretty well:

Bein' a dad isn't so bad
Except that you gotta feed 'em
You gotta shoe 'em and clothe 'em
And try not to loathe 'em
Bug 'em and hug 'em and heed 'em

Bein' a dad can sure make you mad
Man it even can drive you crazy
It's as hard as it looks
You gotta read them dumb books
And you end up despising Walt Disney

Bein' a dad starts to get radical
When they turn into teenagers
You gotta tighten the screws
Enforce the curfews
Confiscate weapons and pagers

But a daughter and son
Can be sort of fun
Just as long as they don't defy you
They'll treat you like a king
They'll believe anything
They're easy to frighten and lie to

Bein' a dad (bein' a dad)
Bein' a dad (bein' a dad)
Bein' a dad can make you feel glad
When you get paperweights and aftershave lotions
Yeah it feels pretty great when they graduate
That's when you're choked with emotions

But bein' a dad takes more than a tad of
Good luck and divine intervention
You need air-tight alibis
Fool proof disguises
Desperation's the father of invention

So sometimes you take off
For a few rounds of golf
And you stay away for half of their lifetimes
The result of it all is
You're captured and hauled up
Before a tribunal for dad crimes

Bein' a dad (bein' a dad)
Bein' a dad (bein' a dad)
Bein' a dad can make you feel sad
Like you're the insignificant other
Yeah right from the start
They break your heart
In the end every kid wants his mother

I [Heart] Mom(s)

Although I spent time with and expressed my feelings in person to the mothers in my life, I let Mother's Day slip by without putting those thoughts and feelings into words and expressing my gratitude to those mothers whom I didn't get to see and speak with on their special day.

Thank you to all the mothers in my life. Thank you to those who without their existence, my existence would literally not be possible. Thank you to those mothers who without their existence my life as I know it would not be able to continue.

I am truly blessed to be surrounded by such smart, successful, and loving women.

Thanks Moms.

-Pres

Welcome Lucy Jayne

Lucy Jayne
today you arrived here
came to live with us on this earth
thank you for blessing us
with your beautiful birth

welcome little lady Lucy
we want to tell you a few things
we want to share in all your life
both the sadness & happiness it brings

live your life & live it well
'cuz time goes by too fast
open your eyes, don't fear the future
make sure to learn from the past

love your family, love your god
enjoy everything you do
you'll succeed, & if you fail
we're here to help you through

try new things, live your life to the fullest

'cuz you only get just this one

be brave, be strong, be bold

don't walk through life but RUN!

Love...Mom, Dad, & sister Skye

 


















Lucy Jayne Croxford
born Tuesday, April 24, 2012 @ 1:24 pm
7lbs 3oz, 20in

What's That Smell?

Much to my delight, Skye has been letting me read Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends for her bedtime stories lately instead of her usual princess books. So I guess because my mind was in the quirky poem mode I began thinking of a rhyme the other morning as I was taking the dogs on their usual walk:

Each day I see a lady who holds her nose as she passes
As if I or my dogs were emitting toxic gases
I try to say 'hello' & to offer a friendly salute
But I get no response as if I'd just let go an s.b.v. toot
I'm not sure if she's allergic or if she's just plain rude
I've got two happy pooches plus I'm a friendly dude
I'll admit I've been known to give off an unpleasant smell
Or maybe it's one of the dogs; at times it's hard to tell
But who is this stranger to cover her face as if she has to sneeze?
Maybe those fumes came from her; blown upward by the breeze?
Guess I'll never know why she thinks she needs a hand mask
'Cuz she won't say a word to me whenever i try to ask

* bonus points if you can identify the initials s.b.v.

Isn't it fun that despite the fact that I'll turn 30 in a few weeks that I still get a kick out of fart humor?

Tennis Ball

I was late for work every day this week.

With my bike on the fritz and the icy roads making it tricky to push a stroller I decided to try an experiment: What if Skye and I just walked to school in the morning? (NOTE: Skye goes to daycare every day, but it's called Lit'l Scholars, so we refer to it as "school")

It turns out that 2-year-olds are really slow walkers. I think it's a combination of the tiny legs and the short attention span. Our path was never a straight brisk walk, but rather more of a meandering stroll.

I stressed a bit knowing I'd have to work through lunch to get everything done at the office and I envied my little daughter with no agenda or schedule to keep.

We made tracks in the snow, and compared the size of our shoe prints. We learned what kind of tracks dogs make and to stay away from the yellow snow. We stopped to stare at birds, clouds, airplanes, and mountains. We counted trees. We practiced our colors and the ABC's. We sang songs. We took time to pet some dogs and to scare away some cats. We talked about cars and trucks and buses and bikes. We enjoyed the smell of coffee and bacon. We huddled together to try and keep warm. We laughed.

On Friday Skye found an old chewed-up tennis ball about 2 minutes into our walk and decided it would be fun to kick it along the sidewalk...the entire way. I joined in.

I was REALLY late for work on Friday...and I didn't care.

I've got something in my eye

My uncle Kim used to love to tell a joke that went something like this:

At the end of her tear-filled emotional talk in church a woman apologized to the congregation for letting her emotions get the best of her and struggling to get through her words, "I'm sorry for being such a big boob."
In an attempt to lighten the mood the bishop quickly took the microphone with an admission, "That's okay Sister [Johnson], we like big boobs!"

As much as I like big boobs as well I don't find it endearing to use that term to describe my own state of emotions. However it appears that today maybe some of Breck's pregnancy hormones may have rubbed off on me as my mental state has run the gamut.

This morning I left the house anxious to get to the office after a 4-day weekend. An exciting project awaited me on my desk and I needed to get to work.

As I arrived at the office I immediately noticed that I had received some mail while I was gone; I knew right away what it was: my test score. I debated waiting to find out the results until the end of the day but knew that I'd never be able to focus with that envelope glaring up at me. I grabbed some coffee, sat down, took a deep breath, and opened the letter.

The bold-lettered word FAIL stared back at me.

Not only was this supposed to be my last test on the road to my license, it was also my second attempt. Following try #1 I wasn't surprised with the failed results. After try #2 however, my confidence was high.

In disbelief and denial I quicky shoved the letter back in the envelope and hid it away in my drawer. I turned on my headphones, put my head down, and got to work.

Hours later I knew I needed to get out of the office so I headed to lunch. On the 1/4 mile walk I must have looked like a crazy person as I muttered frustrations and obscenities to myself. How could I have failed the test again? I was sure this was it, this was the end of the road; the beginning of a new chapter in my career. Was McDonald's really the answer? I piled on another bad decision to my not-so-great morning and walked in.

Following my less-than-satisfying lunch I was leaving the restaurant when I noticed the interactions of a father with his young (3 or 4-year-old) daughter. My thoughts immediately turned to my own daughter at home. Once again I looked like a crazy pereson to the observer who witnessed my tears as I walked down the street.

Why was I crying at the mere sight of a father/daughter lunch outing?

It reminded me of my motivation to continue the daily grind toward my goal. It reminded me that my life is no longer my own.

It reminded me that despite the persona that I may try to fool people into believing about me, deep down I'm really just a big boob.