The truth hurts and I don't own stock in Band-Aids or Xanax. If you're thinking good things about me, you'll tell me; and if you're not... why subject myself to torture?

It's Catch-22. We're not supposed to care what others think, right? But we do. Ultimately, we do. At least, I do. I know Jesus loves me in spite of knowing all there is to know about me, because he probably knows things about me that I don't and still keeps coming back. But would you? When I'm in a bad mood and am capable of thinking extremely catty and uncalled for thoughts about even the kindest person there is, would you keep coming back? I don't know if I could. Go back. After I know all the things about me that irritate you, or that make you think bad things about me, I tend to run and hide.

But if I could read minds that were totally devoid of all thought of me, then heck yeah! I'd do it.

Christmas dinner is something that has been long neglected in our home. It wasn't on purpose that we started this tradition, in fact it was quite by accident...

Prosciutto, anchovy and onion pizza.

About four years ago I had a wonderful holiday meal planned for Christmas Day. We got up, opened stockings and presents with the kids, played with new toys and games and watched many new DVDs. It was great! Great until one of the kids piped in with "When's dinner?"

Dinner? Oh yeah! I should get working on that. I turned to look at the clock for the time and much to my surprise, it was 5:30!

Well, there went that nicely planned meal! Everyone knows you don't start cooking a turkey at 5:30 p.m.! You'd be eating dinner at 9:00! We threw a few things together and had a regular meal that year along with a good laugh. It seems ever since, and never on purpose, the same thing has happened. I'll have a nice meal planned and before you know it, the day is gone and so are my fancy holiday meal plans! Thank goodness for frozen pizza and Lean Cuisines, right?

I'm not often the subject of the compliments I receive. Despite my size, I can see beauty in my face; but quite often the compliments people pay me are about my children.

Most recently were some about my children, mostly B. He was the co-narrator of our congregation's Primary Children's Program at church two weeks ago. It helps, I think, that he has a bit of a dramatic flair.

Often I'm told how sweet or thoughtful the boys are. My first reaction is, "Really?" If only they could exhibit this behavior at home, life would be a dream!

Once in awhile I'm complimented on my eyes, but I must be vain because I want to hear how beautiful I am as a whole package! Sometimes it's not enough to know you are beautiful on the inside.

The lines I walk are blurry. One day I may feel the embodiment of womanhood, including good looks, and the very next day I may feel as unsure of myself as a newborn colt trying to stand up for the first time. Another day I might feel like Superwoman. So much accomplished in so little time, stand in awe of my capabilities! Perhaps a few days later feelings of I'm not sure if I can get dressed today, let alone be Wife or Mom - are flooding my mind. How can this happen? How can we feel so pleased and happy with ourselves one minute, and then total worthlessness the next?

I'm learning what to do when it does. Like an alcoholic, I must take life one day at a time. Sometimes it turns into minute by minute. That's the nature of this disease, depression. The important thing is to come out on top, no matter how long it takes to get there. To quote one of my favorite fictional characters, Anne Shirley, "Each day is fresh with no mistakes."