Restless Legs Syndrome

Pretty sure I have Restless Leg Syndrome. I'm not joking, so stop laughing. 

Okay, I'm laughing too. I'm sure I don't have any leg conditions, but man, I have this constant urge to keep my legs moving when it's time to go to sleep. 

I'm weirded out by it so much that I've been talking to my legs. 

That's right. I'm talking to my legs. I say things like:

"Why don't you just take a chill pill and go to sleep?"

Or...

"What is your problem? Can't you just lay still?"

As of yet they haven't responded...and I'm thinking they aren't going to. 

So, should I read them a bedtime story? Massage them? Relax in a hot bath tub? Take some Tylenol PM?  Well? 

Just what I thought, Blog.....You're not answering me either!

Adios Muchachas 

Mel

P.S. Blog, if you do answer, I'm pretty sure I'm going to freak out. 

Parenting bites...Sometimes

Teenage girls are impossible. 

Preteen boys are oblivious to everything. 

Eight year old girls are envious. 

And five year boys are hellions. 

When you throw it all in the blender and turn it on it creates one big chaotic smoothie of sweet, spicy and chunky insanity. 

Sometimes it drives me wild, other times I love it. 

Either way, I guess it's my own sort of madness and I get to live with it forever. 

Or, at least the next 12 years, when the last one finally graduates high school. 

Tonight, it's borderline insane between all the kids. The teenager and 8 year old are fighting over the teenager bossing the 8 year old around at the pool. The 5 year old is crying about his bedtime and the preteen is oblivious to it all because the Heat need to beat the Spurs. 

This is the time when I would like to lock myself in a closet and eat ice cream right out of the carton. 

But who am I kidding, they would find me. 

So, as parents, we were judge and jury over the fighting, tucked the little hellion into his bed and the oblivious child went to bed on his own. (I'm claiming that one as my own!) 

And now? It's super quiet in our house. Sort of eerie. But I LOVE it. 

Maybe the dog will bark...Let's hope not. 

Adios Muchachas,

Mel

Best advice

We've all heard it before...

"If you don't have something nice to say, then don't say anything at all."

It is such a true statement. But going further, if you decide to say something that is pleasant to your ears but is secretly being hurtful to others, it means the same thing. 

Example: 

I say, "I love that I have a nice big diamond ring."  But, I'm only saying this because someone I know has a teeny tiny diamond and I'm secretly hoping they feel bad. 

I know, maybe not the most clear cut example. But still, you get it. Maybe the new "If you don't have something nice to say, then...."  Should be:

"Think about others before you open your mouth." 

Think about the company you have around you. To be a true good friend we do not boast about the things we are given. God gave them to us to treasure, not gloat. 

But since I want everyone to enjoy what I have, I have an amazing God. Period. 

Adios Muchachas 

Mel

P.S. Facebook is the devil in disguise. It is just a place to tempt people into saying sarcastic, double-meaning statements to hurt the ones we hold dear. Sometimes I wish I didn't participate...

P.P.S. But, I will continue to keep my Facebook page open and going because I love seeing my family and friends pictures and hope people like seeing mine. Hopefully I will not be tempted by the devil to participate in the evilness part of it. 

P.P.P.S. That is all the deep thoughts I have for now.  :)

Some days...

Some days are meant for working

Some are meant for playing

Some days are meant for fighting

Some are meant for loving

Some days are meant for dying

Some are meant for living

Some days are meant for tears

Some are meant for laughter

But all days are meant for prayer. 

That is all. 

Adios Muchachas 

Mel

Okay, so maybe I'm always going to be this size

I need to change the name of this blog since I'm obviously never changing to a smaller version of me again. 

I'd like it to be called:

Memoirs of Mel

And here's the first entry:

Life sucks. Period. 

And I wish I had one of those fancy schmancy spa bathtubs because my various sizes of Mel doesn't fit very well in the tub I have. Period. 

Until next time. 

Adios Muchachas

Mel

P.S. Who can't seem to decide what her blog should be called or about or anything else life is dealing her right now! 

P.P.S. Yikes! I sound depressed. Rephrase that. Can't seem to find a groove in the road, but I'll get there. 

P.P.P.S. Definitely better! 

Until we meet again, in my dreams. ;)