Early Saturday morning, I snuggled down into the couch with AJ while we both rubbed sleep out of our eyes and watched Baby MacDonald.
It's all about the farm, and the animals, and the fields. There are lots of pictures of farm equipment, and of course, "mooooooooooooooos!" When I started trying to explain the difference between a tractor and a combine TO MY 1-YEAR OLD, I realized something way, way down deep where it gets me misty:
One of my heart's greatest treasures is my childhood in the panhandle of Texas, my family's history, and the proud tradition of farming and cattle-raising that is part of my life.
I live very far away from that life now, in the suburbs in a major city, where I commute nearly every day and eat at chain restaurants. The farms here are obviously owned by the last vestiges of a time gone by -- and there are fewer and fewer of them, as the developers buy up every inch of real estate and build subdivision after subdivision. With names like "Robin's Ridge" and "Poplar Trace." Sporadically, you'll drive by a leftover little old home that you can tell houses Grandma and Grampa Farmer. Their property is large -- sometimes 5 acres, like my own Granny's -- and there's a barn and a shed, and the field has grown over in their old age, but you can tell it used to be a working farm. I get so nostalgic and sad when I see those homes, thinking about where those people have been and all the hard work they've put into that land, and knowing that in 6 years, a townhouse complex ("Starting in the $300s") will probably sit there.
Anyway, watching with AJ made me remember lots of little details of the childhood I loved. I wish that these tangible, real things could be part of his life, too, but that is probably not his destiny. (As much as I think it'd be a romantic adventure to find a little farm in middle America, sell everything and move there, and let AJ run around barefoot all summer, as long as he gets his chores done... it's not gonna happen that way.) So, for my wistful heart, and for the sake of his heritage, I want him to know my memories. I hope we can at least visit the places I loved when he gets older. I hope AJ will be able to dig in my father's dirt.
* * * * * *
One of my earliest memories is driving out to one of Dad's farms, and going to the very middle of the pasture to wait for the cattle. We sat down together on the ground, and a few minutes later, a quiet steer snuck up behind us and sniffed our heads. I know Dad had to tell me not to be scared, and I wasn't, really. But I knew I needed to keep still or I'd scare all the cows. And one might kick me.
My sister and I sometimes played cows, and licked the 2 salt-licks that Dad kept in our garage. I made her lick the yellow one, which had sulpher in it, while I took "plain." I feel pretty bad about that now. Hee.
At age four, riding along a dirt road with Dad, we had to stop to chop the head off a rattlesnake in our path. Using a shovel. (I know, by today's Steve Irwin standards it sounds rather heartless, but this is the way things are on the farm, so we all have to get over it.) Dad, of course, had a shovel in the back of the car.
At Granny's, we could go out beyond her pine trees and dig up new potatoes before they were harvested. We didn't do it often, and I'm not sure that was even our crop of potatoes, but when we did, it was special. I can still smell the way that dirt smelled: Clean.
You'd think I'd have run through, hidden in, and played among tall stalks of corn every summer. Not so -- too itchy for me. I only went into a cornfield once. However, I recall several summer evenings when we'd sit in the alley behind our house, shucking fresh corn that we were given annually by a friend. The silk strands underneath those husks were a real mess. But us kids wanted to be out there helping, sitting on a couple of bricks, being with the grown-ups.
Part of living in a farming town is having kids absent from school during the harvest. I can only remember one kid in my class who got this "free pass" every year, but I know there were more than that in my school.
When I was 10 or 11, Sis and I went out to the ranch with Dad on a snowy Saturday morning, and HE LET ME DRIVE THE PICKUP so that he could unload hay for the cattle to eat. We only drove along the fence, so I could keep it lined up, and no more than 4 or 5 mph (so Dad wouldn't fall off!), but I remember being excited and feeling so grown-up.
I also "drove" a combine at age 6 (with the help of the nice farmer who actually manned the thing). I got to put my hands on the wheel AND pull the lever, extending the arm that poured the wheat into a truck next to us. That was a kid-sized thrill!
My uncle lived at the ranch for a time, with his three horses: Yeller, Rick, and a black horse whose name was NOT "Midnight," and won't be repeated here. It never bothered us when we were little, that was just his name.
Granny's house had an antique, horse-drawn plow sitting in the side yard, rusting. We loved to play on that thing. We also played on a VERY old, VERY rickety wooden wagon, which was big enough to have had the "Laura Ingalls" canopy over it, like the pioneers had. I'm not sure it ever had one of those, but it was that kind of wagon. We climbed all over it, too, pretending it was a sailing ship. Granny's long driveway had cattle-guards -- hollow poles dug into the ground that, if a cow tried to walk over, his hooves would get caught in between. Now that I think of it, that's kind-of an odd (cruel?) way to guard against a cow getting into your yard, isn't it?
My grandfather had 3 brothers, and they moved from Oklahoma into Texas after managing a car dealership in Oklahoma City. I wonder what prompted them to move there? My grandfather and my Dad's branch of the family farmed wheat and corn and alfalfa (is that the same as wheat?), and raised cattle for the beef industry, while Uncle Eddie and his sons had onions and potatoes and processed them in their commercial "shed."
When we went with Dad to "help irrigate," he'd have to hoist us up and over the drainage ditch at the end of the rows of wheat. Mostly we splashed in whatever puddles we could find and threw dirt-balls at our feet; Dad switched hoses and moved pipes here and there to make sure the arid west Texas land got enough water.
I remember in the summers, sprayplanes would go over our house on their way out to the farms. I guess they were spraying for insects, which isn't exclusively a farm-thing, anymore, what with West Nile and all, but at the time those planes seemed special to our way of life alone.
When you drive into my childhood hometown, there's a crazy pungent (some say foul) scent in the air: Manure from the feedyards and, I think, the scent of sugarbeets being processed. It's a shocker, but once I get used to it again, I think it smells somewhat sweet every time I visit.
Monday, January 23
Friday, January 20
5 weird things
This little quiz is going around and, in lieu of sharing something intelligent or witty with you, I'll share some weird things about myself.
1. I prefer to drive in a complete circle, when possible. For example, there are two entrances to my subdivision. If I leave out the front entrance, I'd rather return through the back entrance, so that I won't "drive back over" my tracks. (Not that I really would, anyway, always being on the right side of the street, but a wider circle is nicer, and yes, I argue this to myself every time.)
2. When I eat things that are way too sweet, the insides of my ears itch. At least that's how I've always described it. It's like a little twinge in my brain. It makes me squeeze my eyes together and shake my head to think about it. Grapes and bananas used to do this to me. Now, it's more processed sugars, like, the other day when I ate 2 doughnuts. *lemon-pucker-face!*
3. I'm a compulsive note-taker. In college I'd really try to write down everything the professor said. As a choral student, it gets weird. Since I only take notes in pencil, there is an opportunity, every time, to make them PRETTIER than they first appear -- I will go back and erase/rewrite the word "louder," or "watch," or "crescendo" 3 or 4 times if that's what it takes. I even erase/rewrite breath marks (apostrophes) if they aren't to my liking. Because you wouldn't want a breath mark that's too long, or too dark, or not EX-actly where the breath should be!
4. I count the stairs every time I walk down them, in my house. This started when AJ was a newborn and I was concerned I'd drop him, especially in the middle of the night. So I counted the steps and thus at night, in the pitch black, I'd know when I hit the bottom. The habit stuck. (We have 14 stairs total.) I figure it will be good for teaching AJ his numbers at some point.
5. My sister accused me of being weird when we used to make our sandwiches for lunch in the mornings before school. I required that the mayo be spread Just Right, so that it reached, but did not go over, every edge and corner of my bread. I still do this, with peanut butter, margarine, cream cheese, mayo, mustard, you name it. I can hear her cringing right now.
What are your weird things?
1. I prefer to drive in a complete circle, when possible. For example, there are two entrances to my subdivision. If I leave out the front entrance, I'd rather return through the back entrance, so that I won't "drive back over" my tracks. (Not that I really would, anyway, always being on the right side of the street, but a wider circle is nicer, and yes, I argue this to myself every time.)
2. When I eat things that are way too sweet, the insides of my ears itch. At least that's how I've always described it. It's like a little twinge in my brain. It makes me squeeze my eyes together and shake my head to think about it. Grapes and bananas used to do this to me. Now, it's more processed sugars, like, the other day when I ate 2 doughnuts. *lemon-pucker-face!*
3. I'm a compulsive note-taker. In college I'd really try to write down everything the professor said. As a choral student, it gets weird. Since I only take notes in pencil, there is an opportunity, every time, to make them PRETTIER than they first appear -- I will go back and erase/rewrite the word "louder," or "watch," or "crescendo" 3 or 4 times if that's what it takes. I even erase/rewrite breath marks (apostrophes) if they aren't to my liking. Because you wouldn't want a breath mark that's too long, or too dark, or not EX-actly where the breath should be!
4. I count the stairs every time I walk down them, in my house. This started when AJ was a newborn and I was concerned I'd drop him, especially in the middle of the night. So I counted the steps and thus at night, in the pitch black, I'd know when I hit the bottom. The habit stuck. (We have 14 stairs total.) I figure it will be good for teaching AJ his numbers at some point.
5. My sister accused me of being weird when we used to make our sandwiches for lunch in the mornings before school. I required that the mayo be spread Just Right, so that it reached, but did not go over, every edge and corner of my bread. I still do this, with peanut butter, margarine, cream cheese, mayo, mustard, you name it. I can hear her cringing right now.
What are your weird things?
Wednesday, January 18
Run for cover!
It's an avalanche
My husband is the real neat-freak in our house. But evidently, it is rubbing off and leaching into my system as well, because last night I nearly had a nuclear meltdown from all THE STUFF that is taking over our home.
Now, I love the UPS man. He brings me things from amazon.com. So you'd think that, on a day when we received 2 big boxes from the UPS man, I'd have been kissing him as I signed his electric sign-y thing. HOWEVER. Said boxes were delivered from DH's far-away cousins in South Carolina, and contained More Christmas Presents. More than the eighty-bazillion we came home from Florida with (for which I'm grateful, Mom! don't read into that!). One box, in particular, really got my Goat because...
It was SIX FEET TALL. Six! Feet! It contained what I thought was "the starter set" Thomas the Tank Engine wooden track. This had been discussed over and over on the phone with my MIL -- "V. found it on sale! Only $19.99!" I think I was on the phone with them while they were in Wal-Mart, wanting to know if AJ had it already. Such a peaceful little playset, all "classic" with the wooden track and magnetic wooden engine cars. "Ooh," I said excitedly, "we'd love that!" And proceeded to tell my own mom, and everyone else, that we wanted Thomas the Tank Engine. Wooden. Engine. Cars. for the cute wooden set we'd be getting in the mail on Christmas.
What was actually in the the Six-Foot Box was this GI-Fricking-NORMOUS "ULTIMATE THOMAS PLAYSET," with ONE-HUNDRED-FORTY-SEVEN tiny little pieces, it advertised, practically blinking with neon lights, that I will naturally be sucking up into my vacuum until kingdom come and infinity.
And by the way, it isn't the cute classic wooden one that I... I mean, AJ... wanted. It's synthetic.
The cousins also included several cute 18-month-old outfits, as well as some very random items for DH and me, like the flashlight that doesn't require batteries, but you have to crank for 30 seconds before it lights up. You've seen these, right? On the info-mercials. I have a closet that's slowly filling with weird gifts from these relatives who barely know us. Can you say GARAGE SALE? Why do they send us gifts?? I know I should be grateful, but, geez. Send me flowers with that 20 bucks.
But the toy clutter is getting crazy. And I know it's only going to get worse as he gets older. I firmly resolve, as the Act of Contrition says, that I will impart the lesson of giving to those less fortunate as the years go by. We will SO go around the house every year, collecting toys that AJ no longer plays with, and we will donate them. But, butbutbutbutbut.... what am I to do with this playset?? I have no playroom. I have no train table. I have no "grandad's basement" where I can set this thing up. I guess we'll just get out SOME of the pieces, and then find a (convenient?!) place to store the box (Six Feet!) and the rest of the trains. Lordy.
It all hit like a windstorm last night, because aside from all the toys, I also had left out a stack of bills that wanted filing, and piles of laundry that needed to be put away, all in the living room making me crazy. Then DH got home in the rain, telling me there were 2 boxes getting wet on the front porch, so I thought he was mad about that, (he wasn't, but it added to the stress). So we opened the gifts and were then swimming in packing peanuts and wrapping paper, and the aforementioned Clutter had arrived. Meanwhile, dinner's on the stove and going to get cold, and I panicked because I always for some reason try to have dinner at a predictable hour, like, right when DH gets home (self-induced, unnecessary stress, I admit). Thank goodness AJ wasn't screaming because then it really would have been an avalanche. And I probably wouldn't have survivied my own insanity to tell the tale!
My husband is the real neat-freak in our house. But evidently, it is rubbing off and leaching into my system as well, because last night I nearly had a nuclear meltdown from all THE STUFF that is taking over our home.
Now, I love the UPS man. He brings me things from amazon.com. So you'd think that, on a day when we received 2 big boxes from the UPS man, I'd have been kissing him as I signed his electric sign-y thing. HOWEVER. Said boxes were delivered from DH's far-away cousins in South Carolina, and contained More Christmas Presents. More than the eighty-bazillion we came home from Florida with (for which I'm grateful, Mom! don't read into that!). One box, in particular, really got my Goat because...
It was SIX FEET TALL. Six! Feet! It contained what I thought was "the starter set" Thomas the Tank Engine wooden track. This had been discussed over and over on the phone with my MIL -- "V. found it on sale! Only $19.99!" I think I was on the phone with them while they were in Wal-Mart, wanting to know if AJ had it already. Such a peaceful little playset, all "classic" with the wooden track and magnetic wooden engine cars. "Ooh," I said excitedly, "we'd love that!" And proceeded to tell my own mom, and everyone else, that we wanted Thomas the Tank Engine. Wooden. Engine. Cars. for the cute wooden set we'd be getting in the mail on Christmas.
What was actually in the the Six-Foot Box was this GI-Fricking-NORMOUS "ULTIMATE THOMAS PLAYSET," with ONE-HUNDRED-FORTY-SEVEN tiny little pieces, it advertised, practically blinking with neon lights, that I will naturally be sucking up into my vacuum until kingdom come and infinity.
And by the way, it isn't the cute classic wooden one that I... I mean, AJ... wanted. It's synthetic.
The cousins also included several cute 18-month-old outfits, as well as some very random items for DH and me, like the flashlight that doesn't require batteries, but you have to crank for 30 seconds before it lights up. You've seen these, right? On the info-mercials. I have a closet that's slowly filling with weird gifts from these relatives who barely know us. Can you say GARAGE SALE? Why do they send us gifts?? I know I should be grateful, but, geez. Send me flowers with that 20 bucks.
But the toy clutter is getting crazy. And I know it's only going to get worse as he gets older. I firmly resolve, as the Act of Contrition says, that I will impart the lesson of giving to those less fortunate as the years go by. We will SO go around the house every year, collecting toys that AJ no longer plays with, and we will donate them. But, butbutbutbutbut.... what am I to do with this playset?? I have no playroom. I have no train table. I have no "grandad's basement" where I can set this thing up. I guess we'll just get out SOME of the pieces, and then find a (convenient?!) place to store the box (Six Feet!) and the rest of the trains. Lordy.
It all hit like a windstorm last night, because aside from all the toys, I also had left out a stack of bills that wanted filing, and piles of laundry that needed to be put away, all in the living room making me crazy. Then DH got home in the rain, telling me there were 2 boxes getting wet on the front porch, so I thought he was mad about that, (he wasn't, but it added to the stress). So we opened the gifts and were then swimming in packing peanuts and wrapping paper, and the aforementioned Clutter had arrived. Meanwhile, dinner's on the stove and going to get cold, and I panicked because I always for some reason try to have dinner at a predictable hour, like, right when DH gets home (self-induced, unnecessary stress, I admit). Thank goodness AJ wasn't screaming because then it really would have been an avalanche. And I probably wouldn't have survivied my own insanity to tell the tale!
Monday, January 16
Note to self:
No more cookie dough.
Ohthehumanity my tummy aches. I didn't even eat that much, just a spoonful or two... but, oh. So determined to make the cookies, though -- because I want to be the kind of Mommy who bakes cookies on cold Sundays.
* * *
Yesterday at Mass we sang "Here I Am, Lord." And the thought occurred to me, very late in this game, that (duh) perhaps I am CALLED to be in this place, at this time, working full-time and mothering, even though I *think* it's not what I want. The lyrics say, "I will go, Lord, if you lead me," and for some reason that phrase hit me differently, although I've heard the song seventy trillion times before. This might sound trite, but perhaps it's: "OK, Lord, I will GO to work (sigh) if you lead me and help me through it. I will go." Like, maybe I'm meant to inspire someone (at work? or at church, or in another circle) that they can, like I can, be a mom and work, too. Maybe they're struggling with a decision of their own, or wondering how it can all work out, and I'm meant to be a graceful example to them.
So now all I need is the graceful part. Heh. I know I've been given the grace -- it's displaying it that I probably need to work on.
(While I was cantoring this song at the mic and the thought struck me, I had to also quickly pray, "yipes! lead me through *this song* so I don't get choked up In Stereo!")
Ohthehumanity my tummy aches. I didn't even eat that much, just a spoonful or two... but, oh. So determined to make the cookies, though -- because I want to be the kind of Mommy who bakes cookies on cold Sundays.
* * *
Yesterday at Mass we sang "Here I Am, Lord." And the thought occurred to me, very late in this game, that (duh) perhaps I am CALLED to be in this place, at this time, working full-time and mothering, even though I *think* it's not what I want. The lyrics say, "I will go, Lord, if you lead me," and for some reason that phrase hit me differently, although I've heard the song seventy trillion times before. This might sound trite, but perhaps it's: "OK, Lord, I will GO to work (sigh) if you lead me and help me through it. I will go." Like, maybe I'm meant to inspire someone (at work? or at church, or in another circle) that they can, like I can, be a mom and work, too. Maybe they're struggling with a decision of their own, or wondering how it can all work out, and I'm meant to be a graceful example to them.
So now all I need is the graceful part. Heh. I know I've been given the grace -- it's displaying it that I probably need to work on.
(While I was cantoring this song at the mic and the thought struck me, I had to also quickly pray, "yipes! lead me through *this song* so I don't get choked up In Stereo!")
Friday, January 13
Rainbows and lollipops (and a wee bit of Coke on the carpet)
Yesterday, she was a good day.
I dropped AJ off at 7:00am, ready to tackle my second day working at home without him, grateful for the impending 8 hours of Pure Silence ahead of me and an editing assignment, to boot. I didn't quite achieve Pure Silence -- the dogs, mine and the neighbor ones, must have been telling knock-knock jokes ALL DAY LONG.
"Arf! Arf!" says Ginger from the yard behind us.
"Mfph," replies Napoleon, from under my feet.
"Arf!" explains Ginger.
"Woowoowoowoo!" snap Tony, JD, and Jane, the three amigos on the other side of our house. (They'd heard this one before, perhaps?)
"Arf! Arf, aarf!" concludes Ginger, and then, "Aroo? Arrrroo?" from the whiney puppy who's just moved in next door (and is often relegated to the screened-in porch, where she gets lonely... She can go on like this for hours, "Arooo?" Poor thing.).
"Well (understood), Mpfh," grunts unimpressed Napoleon. "Mfpfh." Grumpy Old Man-Dog.
So anyway, with all that going on, it was kinda hard to get my head around the admission policies of yet another college; however, I was impressed that I kept focused on it much longer than the time I spent ripping CDs to iTunes. And I only got up a few times to get a drink or a snack. I worked through lunch. I didn't dilly-dally by doing laundry, either. No personal phone calls. I impressed myself with such a devoted-employee work ethic. (Mpfh.)
I also took 25 minutes or so to workout with Denise on Lifetime. The launch of my 6-month countdown to Beach Week '06 and toned thighs (or at least non-saggy ones). Hello, swimsuit.
At 2:50 I tidied up the kitchen, pulled on my shoes and jumped in the car, eager to get my little boy. His playtime report was marked "Happy (check) and Active (check)." Good Day! We giggled while getting into the carseat. A rare treat. We sat outside on the back deck for a bit, enjoying 70 degrees Fahrenheit, thank you, Georgia. AJ loves to sit in the big-boy chairs -- like a little adult, he invites me to sit with him and just wants to visit. :)
Around 4, my newest mommy-friend came over with her son, Matty. She's a fellow chorister, and sweet and humble and good-hearted. Always has something nice to say about everyone. Borders near the high end of Pollyanna, but isn't overly bubbly or smiley -- just cool. Pleasant. She even told me I am kind, and somehow in a grand hyperbole the word "holy" got thrown in there, at which I Guffawed. SOOO not holy. (But what a compliment. Good day!)
Matty's about 2 months older than AJ, and the two of them played (separately) well together. -- Aside: It's so funny that kids this age still just want to explore on their own. No collaboration, unless it's to fight over who had Elmo first. And then, in a year or two, they'll be secretly plotting our demise together, giggling and sharing. Awww. -- Only one "Oops" for the entire day, and that was when Matty decided that the little bowl of Cheerios they were sharing should be scattered onto my living room floor. Absolutely "No Damage Done," as my Grandmother used to always say, but as we began picking them up ("Okay, who wants to help clean up? Let's put aaaallll the Cheerios back! Cheerful! Happy!), IDIOT ME set my 3/4-full glass of Coca-Cola AT KID LEVEL. It was impulse, I just set it there while I bent over.... Well, LEVEL it, Matty did. Swiped it with his long arm. More sad was I to lose all that refreshing beverage than to sully my (brand-new) carpet -- and of course, Kat was 110% embarrassed, but once again, no real Damage done. "We have OxyClean," I told her calmly, and berated myself for doing something so dumb! When you have kids, HELLO, you don't set a Coke down at their level!?!? And if you do, you get what's coming to you(r carpet).
Kat and Matty left an hour later -- just the right time, knowing instinctively, I guess, that I was about to start fretting over how to get dinner on the table at a reasonable hour if they didn't leave. I like that in a friend -- knowing how long to stay. It's a delicate skill.
At 7:00pm we ate spaghetti dinner and garlic bread, and AJ didn't put it in his hair, and we talked and laughed, Conver-sat-ing. (The TV was off and no one even noticed!) Then AJ had a fun bathtime, and only mildly screeched when I tried to dress him -- the little boys, they like the nekkid! -- and he went RIGHT to sleep and husband and I got to watch Project Runway, with impeccable Heidi Klum (girl-crush)... And like this paragraph, the relaxing portion of our evening seemed hurried and unfinished... but, dear Internet, I ask you gratefully and somewhat out-of-breath, what could be better than that day? :)
I dropped AJ off at 7:00am, ready to tackle my second day working at home without him, grateful for the impending 8 hours of Pure Silence ahead of me and an editing assignment, to boot. I didn't quite achieve Pure Silence -- the dogs, mine and the neighbor ones, must have been telling knock-knock jokes ALL DAY LONG.
"Arf! Arf!" says Ginger from the yard behind us.
"Mfph," replies Napoleon, from under my feet.
"Arf!" explains Ginger.
"Woowoowoowoo!" snap Tony, JD, and Jane, the three amigos on the other side of our house. (They'd heard this one before, perhaps?)
"Arf! Arf, aarf!" concludes Ginger, and then, "Aroo? Arrrroo?" from the whiney puppy who's just moved in next door (and is often relegated to the screened-in porch, where she gets lonely... She can go on like this for hours, "Arooo?" Poor thing.).
"Well (understood), Mpfh," grunts unimpressed Napoleon. "Mfpfh." Grumpy Old Man-Dog.
So anyway, with all that going on, it was kinda hard to get my head around the admission policies of yet another college; however, I was impressed that I kept focused on it much longer than the time I spent ripping CDs to iTunes. And I only got up a few times to get a drink or a snack. I worked through lunch. I didn't dilly-dally by doing laundry, either. No personal phone calls. I impressed myself with such a devoted-employee work ethic. (Mpfh.)
I also took 25 minutes or so to workout with Denise on Lifetime. The launch of my 6-month countdown to Beach Week '06 and toned thighs (or at least non-saggy ones). Hello, swimsuit.
At 2:50 I tidied up the kitchen, pulled on my shoes and jumped in the car, eager to get my little boy. His playtime report was marked "Happy (check) and Active (check)." Good Day! We giggled while getting into the carseat. A rare treat. We sat outside on the back deck for a bit, enjoying 70 degrees Fahrenheit, thank you, Georgia. AJ loves to sit in the big-boy chairs -- like a little adult, he invites me to sit with him and just wants to visit. :)
Around 4, my newest mommy-friend came over with her son, Matty. She's a fellow chorister, and sweet and humble and good-hearted. Always has something nice to say about everyone. Borders near the high end of Pollyanna, but isn't overly bubbly or smiley -- just cool. Pleasant. She even told me I am kind, and somehow in a grand hyperbole the word "holy" got thrown in there, at which I Guffawed. SOOO not holy. (But what a compliment. Good day!)
Matty's about 2 months older than AJ, and the two of them played (separately) well together. -- Aside: It's so funny that kids this age still just want to explore on their own. No collaboration, unless it's to fight over who had Elmo first. And then, in a year or two, they'll be secretly plotting our demise together, giggling and sharing. Awww. -- Only one "Oops" for the entire day, and that was when Matty decided that the little bowl of Cheerios they were sharing should be scattered onto my living room floor. Absolutely "No Damage Done," as my Grandmother used to always say, but as we began picking them up ("Okay, who wants to help clean up? Let's put aaaallll the Cheerios back! Cheerful! Happy!), IDIOT ME set my 3/4-full glass of Coca-Cola AT KID LEVEL. It was impulse, I just set it there while I bent over.... Well, LEVEL it, Matty did. Swiped it with his long arm. More sad was I to lose all that refreshing beverage than to sully my (brand-new) carpet -- and of course, Kat was 110% embarrassed, but once again, no real Damage done. "We have OxyClean," I told her calmly, and berated myself for doing something so dumb! When you have kids, HELLO, you don't set a Coke down at their level!?!? And if you do, you get what's coming to you(r carpet).
Kat and Matty left an hour later -- just the right time, knowing instinctively, I guess, that I was about to start fretting over how to get dinner on the table at a reasonable hour if they didn't leave. I like that in a friend -- knowing how long to stay. It's a delicate skill.
At 7:00pm we ate spaghetti dinner and garlic bread, and AJ didn't put it in his hair, and we talked and laughed, Conver-sat-ing. (The TV was off and no one even noticed!) Then AJ had a fun bathtime, and only mildly screeched when I tried to dress him -- the little boys, they like the nekkid! -- and he went RIGHT to sleep and husband and I got to watch Project Runway, with impeccable Heidi Klum (girl-crush)... And like this paragraph, the relaxing portion of our evening seemed hurried and unfinished... but, dear Internet, I ask you gratefully and somewhat out-of-breath, what could be better than that day? :)
Thursday, January 12
Big D and the ears
My friend Katherine and I were talking about the Empire of Disney last night. We're both worshippers at that altar (see: Little Einsteins). She said that she was excited to take her son to the pediatrician the other day because they got to see "Jungle Book" in the waiting room. It's sad that one has to visit the doctor in order to watch a Disney movie, but this is the reality. Jungle Book's In The Vault. Disney's not releasing/selling it until their next pre-determined, reason-to-jack-the-price-up at-least-five-bucks time period.
I sighed, "Ah, Disney. They've really got us by the... uh, ears... don't they?"
I sighed, "Ah, Disney. They've really got us by the... uh, ears... don't they?"
Wednesday, January 11
Kind people
Every day I have to turn left across 2 lanes of oncoming traffic to get to AJ's daycare to pick him up. Sometimes, the oncoming traffic is stopped at the light behind me, and so the kind people of the world leave the intersection open for me (even though they totally have the right of way). I always wave and say, "Thank you, Kind Person," and go on my merry way. (Unless they hesitate, and scoot out like they want to go a little bit, but don't go. Then I think, "Stupid person! You have the right of way! Go, if you're going... Just GO!") But ususally I think the good thoughts.
This morning, I was really grateful for the same act of kindness when I turned at a different intersection. I started to imagine being one of the two cars who let me through. Maybe their drivers were thinking, "The woman in that Highlander might really need her coffee this morning, I'll let her in." (I was turning into a strip mall driveway and the only thing open at that junction, in the dark morning hours, is Starbucks.) Maybe they were thinking, "I'll let her in because who knows? She may have had to sit up with a sick baby in the wee hours. Maybe she's running late because she let him sleep in a little bit extra. Or maybe she's late because she lay there close to him a bit too long, even though he smelled a little pukey, just because she felt sorry for him. Maybe she's going to order 2 shots of espresso."
At least, I hope that's what the kind people were thinking. They'd have been correct.
This morning, I was really grateful for the same act of kindness when I turned at a different intersection. I started to imagine being one of the two cars who let me through. Maybe their drivers were thinking, "The woman in that Highlander might really need her coffee this morning, I'll let her in." (I was turning into a strip mall driveway and the only thing open at that junction, in the dark morning hours, is Starbucks.) Maybe they were thinking, "I'll let her in because who knows? She may have had to sit up with a sick baby in the wee hours. Maybe she's running late because she let him sleep in a little bit extra. Or maybe she's late because she lay there close to him a bit too long, even though he smelled a little pukey, just because she felt sorry for him. Maybe she's going to order 2 shots of espresso."
At least, I hope that's what the kind people were thinking. They'd have been correct.
Monday, January 9
*waving!*
Announcement, announcement! This is a very special day....and hooray for Sheryl, who invented De-Lurking Day/Week! I admit, I was once a chronic lurker. But I discovered it's waaaay more fun if you leave comments and make friends. The world is just one big conversation waiting to happen, y'all! So if you come here once in a while, or often, even, (I thank you and) don't be shy! Leave a little commenty-love. It'll make me feel all warm and fuzzy.
Off to say "howdy" to a few of my latest favorites.
Shots hurt.
My little man had to get shots today, at his 18-month checkup. This time, he had the situation figured out before he even got into the exam room. Since he was there not long ago with flu-like symptoms, he knew that unpleasantries were associated with the paper-covered cushiony table... and associate he did. Not! Havin'! It! Luckily, it hardly fazes me anymore when he cries and holds his breath, turning his lips blue. The doctor was impressed, though. "Great show, AJ," he joked. "...Very funny, cruel doctor-person," I'm sure AJ was thinking, "Now stop piercing my thighs with that Heinous Instrument of Torture." (He channeled Angry Stewie from "Family Guy," cussing his pediatrician out -- with that hilarious affected accent: "I cannot believe you would submit me to such criminal attacks, Mother! You. Will. Pay, mark my wuuuhds. Evil Villain! And stay away from me with the pointy sticks, Fat Man.") I hate it for the little ones, though. After today, no more shots 'til we're 5 years old, hooray!
I'm thinking of my friend today, who's starting a new job, for all intents and purposes. She's still at her old job too, but now getting the student-teacher portion of her degree done. Cool! I hope she'll enjoy it -- I hope she'll get to choose interesting, educational books and media for her students, and lead story-time, follow the youth book publishers' websites, and plan interesting Book Fairs and research projects.... and not get stuck updating the hundred-year-old card catalog with a typewriter or running the annual textbook sale out of a non-air-conditioned 6x6-foot "room" (closet) in the dead heat of August.... which is what my Mom did as librarian at my high school. Blech! Poor Mom. Surely M.I. will fare better. Shout-out to ya, girl! Have fun!
I'm thinking of my friend today, who's starting a new job, for all intents and purposes. She's still at her old job too, but now getting the student-teacher portion of her degree done. Cool! I hope she'll enjoy it -- I hope she'll get to choose interesting, educational books and media for her students, and lead story-time, follow the youth book publishers' websites, and plan interesting Book Fairs and research projects.... and not get stuck updating the hundred-year-old card catalog with a typewriter or running the annual textbook sale out of a non-air-conditioned 6x6-foot "room" (closet) in the dead heat of August.... which is what my Mom did as librarian at my high school. Blech! Poor Mom. Surely M.I. will fare better. Shout-out to ya, girl! Have fun!
Friday, January 6
Obey Mary Kay
I am, indeed, a "Warm"
Somebody whap me next time I start to put on blue or green eye shadow. It makes my whole face look gray, no matter how delicately or strategically I apply it "just in the corners." I've told myself this twice now, yet I insist on trying.
Somebody whap me next time I start to put on blue or green eye shadow. It makes my whole face look gray, no matter how delicately or strategically I apply it "just in the corners." I've told myself this twice now, yet I insist on trying.
Smart-ness, and other tangents
How can the word onomatopoeia come up in conversation twice in 2 days? I must hang with a pretty smart crowd. (Which makes me smart by association.) ....except that, when it came up the other night at the dinner table, I couldn't remember what the hell it means. Nor could I remember how to spell it. I sat there trying to for at least 4 minutes before I gave up and moved on to my second soft taco. I couldn't pronounce it, really, either, without stumbling over my tongue. So, the part about me being smart? Forget I said that. But this morning I was reading Finslippy and SHE was talking about onomatopoeia, too! (I even understood it, in context. Woo-hoo, back to being smart!) The definition, for those of you who are as smart -- and as forgetful -- as me, is the formation of a word, as "boom," by imitation of a sound. Thank you, Mr. Webster.
My neck hurts. There is no explanation. I'm considering chiropractic. (Sounds wrong, but Mr. Webster also says that "chiropractics," plural, is not a word.)
My mother's email this morning: "Today we did an aerial tour in another rain forest: swinging through the trees like monkeys!"
If you know my mother, you're saying, "No way."
The server is Up. So far.
Today is Epiphany, the day the Wise Men arrived at the stable with their gifts. In Madrid, this is the night the kids go to bed anticipatorily (also not a word, but I like it), hoping for presents. This makes infinitely more sense than Santa Claus, doesn't it?
I'm grateful for:
--Days when I have something to say, unlike today.
--A wonderful day with AJ yesterday.
--The checkbook error that cleared up the second time I did that complicated adding/subtracting/balancing routine. (Did I say smart?)
--A husband who makes Cheesy Chicken and Uncle Ben's: Yum.
--A full two days ahead, free of work or othercommittments commitments. (I always spell that one wrong the first time. Sigh. Somebody call the Phi Betes -- they'll be wanting their pin back.)
My neck hurts. There is no explanation. I'm considering chiropractic. (Sounds wrong, but Mr. Webster also says that "chiropractics," plural, is not a word.)
My mother's email this morning: "Today we did an aerial tour in another rain forest: swinging through the trees like monkeys!"
If you know my mother, you're saying, "No way."
The server is Up. So far.
Today is Epiphany, the day the Wise Men arrived at the stable with their gifts. In Madrid, this is the night the kids go to bed anticipatorily (also not a word, but I like it), hoping for presents. This makes infinitely more sense than Santa Claus, doesn't it?
I'm grateful for:
--Days when I have something to say, unlike today.
--A wonderful day with AJ yesterday.
--The checkbook error that cleared up the second time I did that complicated adding/subtracting/balancing routine. (Did I say smart?)
--A husband who makes Cheesy Chicken and Uncle Ben's: Yum.
--A full two days ahead, free of work or other
Wednesday, January 4
They said OK
So tomorrow'll be my last full day at home w/AJ for a while.
Logically, "yay," but it still hurts a teency bit.
Logically, "yay," but it still hurts a teency bit.
Mixin' it up
I've written the proposal to my boss to alter my work-at-home schedule. I don't think it will be a problem for him; thankfully, he's grown quite receptive to flex-time options for his employees, as long as the business is still successful. But I'm hesitating to hit "Send," because I calculated out the number of weekday hours I currently spend with AJ and the time I will spend if my proposal is implemented: It's 35 versus 19. Maybe 20, if I fudge a little on Tuesday mornings. And that's a big difference that I wish I hadn't seen. So I'm coming here to wrestle it out in words rather than numbers, and make sure this is really what my heart desires.
Clearly, I'm "making do." But I'm resolved in 2006 to stop complaining about being a working mom, stop wishing for What Is Not, and just enjoy the enormous blessings I've been given, so that's the end of that topic. (See, I told you I had real resolutions!) The truth is that I have sort-of come to dread my work-at-home days. It's so HARD to be motivated to work when AJ's right there, being cute and needing me to be his Primary Caregiver. It's so SAD to actually use the Disney Channel and PBS as babysitters, when I know very well that is exactly what you're Not Supposed To Do. (Besides that, "Little Einsteins" is a damn good cartoon and I'd rather be watching it with him than rushing to the closet to secretly check my email! Rock on with tha Mozart and Bizet! Plus, it's fun to hear him shout "Eye-Tie!" and point when he sees the opening titles. *Smile*)
I have started reading a wonderful book by Katrina Kenison called Mitten Strings For God, Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry and it speaks to me. (Check it out.) It talks about kids needing time to just sit, and daydream, and have Quiet. As much as I love and trust AJ's daycare, I'm not convinced he gets that kind of time there, and he sure as heck doesn't get it at home when I'm working. I mean, yeah, he plays by himself for moments.... but it's usually not that quiet because I'm tapping and he's looking for me (I hide in the closet, remember), or else Cookie Monster is singing in our CD player, or the TV's on. (I absolutely turn it off in the afternoons, I swear. And do ya think I'm a little obsessed with the TV topic?? Y'think??) I rarely allow us the time to go into the backyard and just sit for an hour or 2 -- not without some amount of job-guilt, anyway. He's just not old enough for me to do that WITH my laptop, and to be be away from it that long is just guilt-inducing. Who told me I need to be working NON STOP from 8 to 5, anyway? I'LL TELL YA WHO -- iChat. My team uses it to "stay in touch" but it makes me feel like everyone's watching my Status, and like they're Counting The Minutes when I'm shown as "Away." PARANOID MUCH??? I've never had to punch a time clock, but man, does it feel that way sometimes. I hate that.
Okay, one more "con" of the current set-up: I. Never. Sit. Down. Between jumping over the gate, reassuring AJ that I'm still here, stepping over the dog, taking the dog out, taking AJ out, bringing him back in, putting him in his high chair for lunch and going to check email Just Once More... it's a very tiring day. It feels scattered and hurried, all the time. I think I've had about enough of that.
At any rate, I've proposed ending my work-day at 3pm and if that flies, I'll be picking up the little guy and taking him to the public library once in a while, to sit and whisper between the short shelves of pictures books. Or to the park. Or just, to our house, but with the freedom to focus directly on him. Or to let him play alone, and observe silently from a corner. Kids are so fun to watch when you can actually see the gears whirling. They figure something out and grow a little with each move.
It's a tough choice to give up hours. But I think the gains might just be worth it.
*hitting Send now*
P.S. Ooh, hey, just thought of something else! I might get to actually cook something decent once in a while, with a bit more time in the afternoons. Bonus.
Clearly, I'm "making do." But I'm resolved in 2006 to stop complaining about being a working mom, stop wishing for What Is Not, and just enjoy the enormous blessings I've been given, so that's the end of that topic. (See, I told you I had real resolutions!) The truth is that I have sort-of come to dread my work-at-home days. It's so HARD to be motivated to work when AJ's right there, being cute and needing me to be his Primary Caregiver. It's so SAD to actually use the Disney Channel and PBS as babysitters, when I know very well that is exactly what you're Not Supposed To Do. (Besides that, "Little Einsteins" is a damn good cartoon and I'd rather be watching it with him than rushing to the closet to secretly check my email! Rock on with tha Mozart and Bizet! Plus, it's fun to hear him shout "Eye-Tie!" and point when he sees the opening titles. *Smile*)
I have started reading a wonderful book by Katrina Kenison called Mitten Strings For God, Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry and it speaks to me. (Check it out.) It talks about kids needing time to just sit, and daydream, and have Quiet. As much as I love and trust AJ's daycare, I'm not convinced he gets that kind of time there, and he sure as heck doesn't get it at home when I'm working. I mean, yeah, he plays by himself for moments.... but it's usually not that quiet because I'm tapping and he's looking for me (I hide in the closet, remember), or else Cookie Monster is singing in our CD player, or the TV's on. (I absolutely turn it off in the afternoons, I swear. And do ya think I'm a little obsessed with the TV topic?? Y'think??) I rarely allow us the time to go into the backyard and just sit for an hour or 2 -- not without some amount of job-guilt, anyway. He's just not old enough for me to do that WITH my laptop, and to be be away from it that long is just guilt-inducing. Who told me I need to be working NON STOP from 8 to 5, anyway? I'LL TELL YA WHO -- iChat. My team uses it to "stay in touch" but it makes me feel like everyone's watching my Status, and like they're Counting The Minutes when I'm shown as "Away." PARANOID MUCH??? I've never had to punch a time clock, but man, does it feel that way sometimes. I hate that.
Okay, one more "con" of the current set-up: I. Never. Sit. Down. Between jumping over the gate, reassuring AJ that I'm still here, stepping over the dog, taking the dog out, taking AJ out, bringing him back in, putting him in his high chair for lunch and going to check email Just Once More... it's a very tiring day. It feels scattered and hurried, all the time. I think I've had about enough of that.
At any rate, I've proposed ending my work-day at 3pm and if that flies, I'll be picking up the little guy and taking him to the public library once in a while, to sit and whisper between the short shelves of pictures books. Or to the park. Or just, to our house, but with the freedom to focus directly on him. Or to let him play alone, and observe silently from a corner. Kids are so fun to watch when you can actually see the gears whirling. They figure something out and grow a little with each move.
It's a tough choice to give up hours. But I think the gains might just be worth it.
*hitting Send now*
P.S. Ooh, hey, just thought of something else! I might get to actually cook something decent once in a while, with a bit more time in the afternoons. Bonus.
Tuesday, January 3
Grace
My favorite Christmas present came yesterday evening, right after we put AJ to bed. Husband was doing the dishes, as he does most every night. (As much as I love him for this (!), it's not THE reason I married him. But it helps. *wink*)
I watched him from the other room, where I was diligently packing up all my merry decor -- and he stopped what he was doing for a minute just to stand there, staring at the floor, dishcloth in hand, mulling over something. I called to him, "You okay?" And he replied, "Yeah. But I'm sad. I just love my little guy so much..."
He came over to me and put his arms around me. "I just had the best time with him this week, you know? It was like we really got to know each other...and just watching him play... because when I'm at work all week... he usually isn't as talkative to me as he is to you, but this week?... y'know? He's such a sweet boy. Growing so fast... THANK YOU, for giving him to me. And for sacrificing yourself for 9 months to keep him healthy and safe, and being so calm and good with him. He's sweet because of the way you are with him. ....I'm just really going to miss him tomorrow."
Of course I don't accept his theory about AJ's sweetness being my doing -- it's certainly not -- but the loving, life-giving, genuine things he said? I needed those, as much as I worry about not having any grace as a parent. We forget to tell each other these important things -- forget to acknowledge them to ourselves, even. I am so, so blessed and thankful for the moment. It was an instance of Finding the Sacred in the Everyday. It was Sacramental. Warm. I was sharing fully in his sadness, but I find great joy in his feeling, during the holidays, like he received such valuable blessings. Such Gifts. I received one, too, in his telling me.
I watched him from the other room, where I was diligently packing up all my merry decor -- and he stopped what he was doing for a minute just to stand there, staring at the floor, dishcloth in hand, mulling over something. I called to him, "You okay?" And he replied, "Yeah. But I'm sad. I just love my little guy so much..."
He came over to me and put his arms around me. "I just had the best time with him this week, you know? It was like we really got to know each other...and just watching him play... because when I'm at work all week... he usually isn't as talkative to me as he is to you, but this week?... y'know? He's such a sweet boy. Growing so fast... THANK YOU, for giving him to me. And for sacrificing yourself for 9 months to keep him healthy and safe, and being so calm and good with him. He's sweet because of the way you are with him. ....I'm just really going to miss him tomorrow."
Of course I don't accept his theory about AJ's sweetness being my doing -- it's certainly not -- but the loving, life-giving, genuine things he said? I needed those, as much as I worry about not having any grace as a parent. We forget to tell each other these important things -- forget to acknowledge them to ourselves, even. I am so, so blessed and thankful for the moment. It was an instance of Finding the Sacred in the Everyday. It was Sacramental. Warm. I was sharing fully in his sadness, but I find great joy in his feeling, during the holidays, like he received such valuable blessings. Such Gifts. I received one, too, in his telling me.
Hiatus!
Hello, hello, and welcome back to the world. I don't know about you, but I took a total hiatus from everything-requiring-effort to enjoy the holidays. No choir, no work, not even email. How I needed that kind of escape from the trials of (my admittedly not-that-hard) everyday life! It does a body good. I realized about halfway through the vacation that I wasn't even having any usual blog-thoughts, because it was a time of Actual Living. Life, I discovered, is not a blog post. Although I did kinda miss my online pals and stopped by to read one or two of you when I could sneak into the computer room for a minute. And I am glad to be back now. (What's nice is that I have plenty of catch-up reading to keep me busy today, since a lot of our clients -- schools -- are still on hiatus! Woo hoo!)
I'm late to the table with New Year's resolutions, but here they are. 1. Buy 2 bottles of conditioner for every 1 bottle of shampoo. Do yours always run out unevenly like mine do? That is annoying. 2. Eat more, weigh less. Notice this is not your everyday diet resolution! I am positive it will work, because the regular version never does. 3. Be a better shopper. If Mama needs new shoes, dammit, Mama is going to buy new shoes. Rather than walking around on the Payless Shoe Source pair whose heel is hollow because the bottom piece of plastic fell off last year.
I do have some serious ones, too, like blessing my circumstances and yoga, but I know that making resolutions is a great way to set oneself up for disppointment, and who needs that, this time of year?! It's disappointing enough to have to rejoin the ranks of my fellow Soulless Drones in corporations all over America. :) No need to write down the future disappointments for a sad review later in the year! I'll keep 'em to myself, thankyouverymuch. Good luck with yours, though.
We really did have a wonderful 12 days. We relaxed, we did CROSSWORDS (Sis, after you and HB left I got the bug... and really wished I'd had a book called "Light and Easy!"), we drove AJ around the backyard, in 70-degree weather, in Dad's wheelbarrow. How fun is that?! (Hint: That is Very Fun.) We saw a movie in a theater. We got haircuts. We looked at photos. We went to parties -- family ones, with all their charm and goofy annual same-ness. We ate and ate. I got to play with my best friend and her 2-year-old at the park. AJ, too! We got sand in our shoes.
For now, back to my iPod nano. It is so teeny tiny and I'm in love with it. So, see? that's not a bad way to start off the New Year. :)
I'm late to the table with New Year's resolutions, but here they are. 1. Buy 2 bottles of conditioner for every 1 bottle of shampoo. Do yours always run out unevenly like mine do? That is annoying. 2. Eat more, weigh less. Notice this is not your everyday diet resolution! I am positive it will work, because the regular version never does. 3. Be a better shopper. If Mama needs new shoes, dammit, Mama is going to buy new shoes. Rather than walking around on the Payless Shoe Source pair whose heel is hollow because the bottom piece of plastic fell off last year.
I do have some serious ones, too, like blessing my circumstances and yoga, but I know that making resolutions is a great way to set oneself up for disppointment, and who needs that, this time of year?! It's disappointing enough to have to rejoin the ranks of my fellow Soulless Drones in corporations all over America. :) No need to write down the future disappointments for a sad review later in the year! I'll keep 'em to myself, thankyouverymuch. Good luck with yours, though.
We really did have a wonderful 12 days. We relaxed, we did CROSSWORDS (Sis, after you and HB left I got the bug... and really wished I'd had a book called "Light and Easy!"), we drove AJ around the backyard, in 70-degree weather, in Dad's wheelbarrow. How fun is that?! (Hint: That is Very Fun.) We saw a movie in a theater. We got haircuts. We looked at photos. We went to parties -- family ones, with all their charm and goofy annual same-ness. We ate and ate. I got to play with my best friend and her 2-year-old at the park. AJ, too! We got sand in our shoes.
For now, back to my iPod nano. It is so teeny tiny and I'm in love with it. So, see? that's not a bad way to start off the New Year. :)
Wednesday, December 21
A blessing today
My college chorus director is a musician whose talent and musical style I admire probably more than any other person I've had the pleasure to sing with. He was strict and disciplined, but fun to work for. He demanded a lot from us, but also went out for beers with us (once. In Europe.). His was the first classical chorus I'd ever been part of; he introduced me to that musical world, and I've never given it up. Choral music is now such a huge part of who I am. (In fact, I just got the schedule for next year's Festival Chorus, and learned I was selected for a small ensemble who'll sing at the Deaconate Ordination in February, yay!) I hope to always sing in some capacity, but especially in a large, trained chorus. Complete with the black skirts/white tops, and standing on risers. :)
Last week I got to feeling really sappy and wistful about my college choirs -- I'd been listening to a Christmas CD we recorded in '93 -- and I Googled this professor, found him, and hesitantly sent him an email. I wanted him to know that I was thinking of him with gratitude for all he taught me, at this very musical time of year. I was always kind-of in awe of (read: intimidated by) him, whether he deserved that or not. So it's very special to me that he wrote back this morning. His note was sweet, just one old friend wishing Christmas blessings to another -- no hint of any conductor's ego (which I do believe he had a touch of, at one time). He said he'd kept up with my whereabouts through a mutual friend, which touched me. He cared enough to know I'd married and had a baby. It kind-of sounds like a celebrity crush, doesn't it? Maybe it was, in a way.
I'm going to be smiling about it all day. :)
Edited to add: I just think it's so nice when the holiday works the way it's supposed to -- bringing old friends together again, you know, Auld-Lang-Syne-style. Things like this email, however small it may be, signify the importance of the modern-day Christmas for me. I hope you have many similar blessings this year.
Last week I got to feeling really sappy and wistful about my college choirs -- I'd been listening to a Christmas CD we recorded in '93 -- and I Googled this professor, found him, and hesitantly sent him an email. I wanted him to know that I was thinking of him with gratitude for all he taught me, at this very musical time of year. I was always kind-of in awe of (read: intimidated by) him, whether he deserved that or not. So it's very special to me that he wrote back this morning. His note was sweet, just one old friend wishing Christmas blessings to another -- no hint of any conductor's ego (which I do believe he had a touch of, at one time). He said he'd kept up with my whereabouts through a mutual friend, which touched me. He cared enough to know I'd married and had a baby. It kind-of sounds like a celebrity crush, doesn't it? Maybe it was, in a way.
I'm going to be smiling about it all day. :)
Edited to add: I just think it's so nice when the holiday works the way it's supposed to -- bringing old friends together again, you know, Auld-Lang-Syne-style. Things like this email, however small it may be, signify the importance of the modern-day Christmas for me. I hope you have many similar blessings this year.
Monday, December 19
Me and my big red nose
| You Are Rudolph |
 Sweet and shy, you tend to be happiest when you're making someone else happy. Why You're Naughty: You sometimes stick that nose where it doesn't belong Why You're Nice: Christmas would be a sad affair without you! |
Tee hee! These are funny. I definitely stick my nose where it doesn't belong sometimes. In fact, I just stuck my nose in Ikea for half an hour. Shouldn't have done that! Ended up buying something for myself! At this time of year! BUT... the prices there justify everything. Ikea rules.
Pass the Lysol, please
We are living in the House of Sick. AJ started it by all of a sudden throwing up last Monday night, without much of a warning at all, except that he begged me for a 2nd nap that afternoon, which is HIGHLY ununsual. He went to the doc, was tested for strep, and determined to have contracted a bug.
I DO NOT LIKE BUGS. I WANT TO SQUISH THIS PARTICULAR ONE, HARD, WITH MY SHOE.
He was feverish all day Tuesday, better on Wednesday and Thursday, but then on Friday he developed the weeeeeirdest manifestation of a virus that I've ever seen: skin splotches! Daycare called to ask if they could give him a little Benadryl to see if "these little spots on his face" would go down. They did, but kept reappearing all day, coming and going, on various parts of his body. Bizarre. They look like bug bites, only bigger. They only seem to itch once in a while. I called the doctor's office again and they assured me it's probably just part of the bug. Wha-huh? I've never heard of this. Anyway, they said as long as he didn't have a fever and was eating and drinking normally, all's well. Of course, it's not "all", because he LOOKS so sad and disfigured! He's had those spots on his eyelid, his ear, his legs, his widdow bottom... poor leper! :( And if by "normal" eating they mean he takes one or 4 bites of whatever I've given him to ease his cries of "EEET! EEET!" and then picks at the rest or moves it from his plate to his tray to the dog and back again, then yes, he's eating normally. Saturday he seemed fine. Meanwhile I'd gotten a cold. Lost my voice. And Saturday night we both must have passed it to Husband because he threw up and had the shivers.
Yes, yes Mr. Andy Williams, it IS the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
Sunday AJ started displaying a REALLY runny nose. And coughing. And Sunday night right before bedtime.... MORE SPOTS!! Damn you, Bug, I thought you were on your way out! I found some Aveeno oatmeal baby bath and it did the trick -- no more spots this morning. But man!! This bug actually attempts to EAT babies! Yuck!
We are desperately trying not to infect all of our friends -- deciding to skip two of the holiday parties I would actually like to attend -- and hoping that the leprosy doesn't appear on us grown-ups, at least until after we've hugged all our relatives on Christmas Day.
A very Snotty Holiday to you and yours.
Season's Coughings.
...On Vomit and Blitzen!
Peace!
I DO NOT LIKE BUGS. I WANT TO SQUISH THIS PARTICULAR ONE, HARD, WITH MY SHOE.
He was feverish all day Tuesday, better on Wednesday and Thursday, but then on Friday he developed the weeeeeirdest manifestation of a virus that I've ever seen: skin splotches! Daycare called to ask if they could give him a little Benadryl to see if "these little spots on his face" would go down. They did, but kept reappearing all day, coming and going, on various parts of his body. Bizarre. They look like bug bites, only bigger. They only seem to itch once in a while. I called the doctor's office again and they assured me it's probably just part of the bug. Wha-huh? I've never heard of this. Anyway, they said as long as he didn't have a fever and was eating and drinking normally, all's well. Of course, it's not "all", because he LOOKS so sad and disfigured! He's had those spots on his eyelid, his ear, his legs, his widdow bottom... poor leper! :( And if by "normal" eating they mean he takes one or 4 bites of whatever I've given him to ease his cries of "EEET! EEET!" and then picks at the rest or moves it from his plate to his tray to the dog and back again, then yes, he's eating normally. Saturday he seemed fine. Meanwhile I'd gotten a cold. Lost my voice. And Saturday night we both must have passed it to Husband because he threw up and had the shivers.
Yes, yes Mr. Andy Williams, it IS the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!
Sunday AJ started displaying a REALLY runny nose. And coughing. And Sunday night right before bedtime.... MORE SPOTS!! Damn you, Bug, I thought you were on your way out! I found some Aveeno oatmeal baby bath and it did the trick -- no more spots this morning. But man!! This bug actually attempts to EAT babies! Yuck!
We are desperately trying not to infect all of our friends -- deciding to skip two of the holiday parties I would actually like to attend -- and hoping that the leprosy doesn't appear on us grown-ups, at least until after we've hugged all our relatives on Christmas Day.
Peace!
Thursday, December 15
Reading Me
"The Whole Internet" has been tagged by several people to do this reading meme. And I? Am the Internet! I've loved reading other people's literary memories, and it's reminded me of all sorts of childhood things I might never have thought of again. So, here's me, via my history with books and reading:
1. The first book I remember reading was "Raggedy Ann and the Cookie Snatcher." I could recite it, actually, at age 3 or 4. (Only now do I fully understand JUST how many times my parents must have read it to me!) My parents tape-recorded me doing it and I am SO thankful they did. It's fun to listen to.
2. My parents read to us a lot. Not only at bedtime. Some evenings we had a family book-reading time, where Mom or Dad would read aloud from James & the Giant Peach, or similar chapter-books. That's the only specific one I remember (help, Sis) -- but I do know it made a huge impression on me and I plan to do the same with my kids.
3. In First Grade, our reading groups were classified by birds and by colors. The best readers were Red Cardinals (my group), and the other kids were Bluebirds.
4. I do NOT dog-ear the pages of books (only magazines), nor can I abide writing with any sort of INK in a book. Pencil only, if required!! (This also applies to music -- even music I own.) My friend Melissa used to torture me by telling me she'd been in the bathtub with her paperback and showing me all the pages she'd folded over. *shudder*
5. My teacher in 5th grade made us do book reports, but she let us choose the books from her reading shelf, which I thought was so cool. (Just like with a toddler, you give them Choices and they respect you!) "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret" was in high demand, and I got it at one point -- I just loved the huge selection this teacher kept on-hand.
6. Growing up I never could read or study with any background noise. By necessity, I have learned. I can now read to the tune of Monday Night Football, (or baseball or hockey), or to the sounds of Xbox or PlayStation2.
7. The first (and practically only) romance novel I ever read was called "Night Jasmine" and I ADORED it. However, I've never read it a 2nd time, nor have I ever been much interested in romance novels.
8. Or mysteries. Although, another young adult author I read and loved was John Bellairs and his mysteries. They were pretty dark, for kids' books, but I felt like they were more grown up than most of the mysteries I'd tried. They're now being compared to Harry Potter.
9. Moving on, to high school and grown-up reading: Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. I chose it for a project in freshman English, and was LOVING IT, when my friend, Kate, decided to ruin it for me by saying, "You know how it ends, right?" And SPOILING it before I even could say "No" or cover my ears!!
10. Huckleberry Finn: I laughed out loud during a reading period in junior English class, which somehow impressed my teacher. She said that when literature moves someone to outward expression, that is a good thing. (And I agree!) I often still laugh out loud while reading. My husband gives me quizzical looks.
11. I have tons of books on my shelves that I've "been meaning to read" for years. Atlas Shrugged, Corelli's Mandolin, A Man in Full, Skinny Legs and All, several Jane Austens, and Jane Smiley's "Moo," are just a few.
12. I've read, or started to read, 6 of John Irving's books. I liked him at one time, but I think I've outgrown him. My favorite was "Owen Meany," but the 2nd time I read it (after several of his others), I couldn't even finish.
13. I admit it: I liked Jan Karon's Mitford series. I want to live in Mitford, really. I'd have to convert, though, and go to Father Tim's Episcopal church.
14. I didn't read Walden until just after college. At the time I was walking in the mornings along a beautiful nature trail, so it doesn't strike me at all strange that I totally cried when I got to the famous parts. I could anticipate them coming up as I read it the first time, since I'd heard them before. They still touch me every time:
--"Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself. I have been as sincere a worshipper of Aurora as the Greeks. I got up early and bathed in the pond; that was a religious exercise, and one of the best things which I did…. The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour."
--"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
--"Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand.... Simplify, simplify."
...most people have done 15 things or more, but I'm worn out! Thanks for reading.
1. The first book I remember reading was "Raggedy Ann and the Cookie Snatcher." I could recite it, actually, at age 3 or 4. (Only now do I fully understand JUST how many times my parents must have read it to me!) My parents tape-recorded me doing it and I am SO thankful they did. It's fun to listen to.
2. My parents read to us a lot. Not only at bedtime. Some evenings we had a family book-reading time, where Mom or Dad would read aloud from James & the Giant Peach, or similar chapter-books. That's the only specific one I remember (help, Sis) -- but I do know it made a huge impression on me and I plan to do the same with my kids.
3. In First Grade, our reading groups were classified by birds and by colors. The best readers were Red Cardinals (my group), and the other kids were Bluebirds.
4. I do NOT dog-ear the pages of books (only magazines), nor can I abide writing with any sort of INK in a book. Pencil only, if required!! (This also applies to music -- even music I own.) My friend Melissa used to torture me by telling me she'd been in the bathtub with her paperback and showing me all the pages she'd folded over. *shudder*
5. My teacher in 5th grade made us do book reports, but she let us choose the books from her reading shelf, which I thought was so cool. (Just like with a toddler, you give them Choices and they respect you!) "Are you there, God? It's me, Margaret" was in high demand, and I got it at one point -- I just loved the huge selection this teacher kept on-hand.
6. Growing up I never could read or study with any background noise. By necessity, I have learned. I can now read to the tune of Monday Night Football, (or baseball or hockey), or to the sounds of Xbox or PlayStation2.
7. The first (and practically only) romance novel I ever read was called "Night Jasmine" and I ADORED it. However, I've never read it a 2nd time, nor have I ever been much interested in romance novels.
8. Or mysteries. Although, another young adult author I read and loved was John Bellairs and his mysteries. They were pretty dark, for kids' books, but I felt like they were more grown up than most of the mysteries I'd tried. They're now being compared to Harry Potter.
9. Moving on, to high school and grown-up reading: Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca. I chose it for a project in freshman English, and was LOVING IT, when my friend, Kate, decided to ruin it for me by saying, "You know how it ends, right?" And SPOILING it before I even could say "No" or cover my ears!!
10. Huckleberry Finn: I laughed out loud during a reading period in junior English class, which somehow impressed my teacher. She said that when literature moves someone to outward expression, that is a good thing. (And I agree!) I often still laugh out loud while reading. My husband gives me quizzical looks.
11. I have tons of books on my shelves that I've "been meaning to read" for years. Atlas Shrugged, Corelli's Mandolin, A Man in Full, Skinny Legs and All, several Jane Austens, and Jane Smiley's "Moo," are just a few.
12. I've read, or started to read, 6 of John Irving's books. I liked him at one time, but I think I've outgrown him. My favorite was "Owen Meany," but the 2nd time I read it (after several of his others), I couldn't even finish.
13. I admit it: I liked Jan Karon's Mitford series. I want to live in Mitford, really. I'd have to convert, though, and go to Father Tim's Episcopal church.
14. I didn't read Walden until just after college. At the time I was walking in the mornings along a beautiful nature trail, so it doesn't strike me at all strange that I totally cried when I got to the famous parts. I could anticipate them coming up as I read it the first time, since I'd heard them before. They still touch me every time:
--"Every morning was a cheerful invitation to make my life of equal simplicity, and I may say innocence, with Nature herself. I have been as sincere a worshipper of Aurora as the Greeks. I got up early and bathed in the pond; that was a religious exercise, and one of the best things which I did…. The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour."
--"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."
--"Our life is frittered away by detail. An honest man has hardly need to count more than his ten fingers, or in extreme cases he may add his ten toes, and lump the rest. Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand.... Simplify, simplify."
...most people have done 15 things or more, but I'm worn out! Thanks for reading.
Imagine this
I know it isn't anywhere near Epiphany yet, but I've been listening to my old college choir recordings of Christmas carols and concerts, and remembered this, one of my favorites. Its soaring harmonies and reverent, whispering ending illustrate the lyrics beautifully:
Can you imagine? Little Baby feet? Of God?
Kind-of takes my breath away to think about it.
Three Kings stood at the gate,
Each with a crown on head.
The serving man bowed down,
The inn was full, he knew.
Said he, "In all this town is
no fit place for you."
A light the stable lit,
There lay the mother meek.
Said they, "This place is fit,
Here is the rest we seek."
Come in, Come in ye Kings,
And kiss the feet of God.
Can you imagine? Little Baby feet? Of God?
Kind-of takes my breath away to think about it.
Wednesday, December 14
Cells on fire
I completely zoned out last night. I watched VH1's latest countdown show, the 101 Top Kid Stars hosted by ex-Brady and celeb-reality clown, Chris Knight. Complete waste of time. Then flipped it to Carrie Bradshaw and the tame version of her girls over on TBS. Husband said I had seen the episode before, but I had no recollection. After that I just HAD to see the conclusion of last week's Queer Eye, which was "to be continued." I don't know why, it wasn't even that good.
I guess it was a thinking break for my mind, but by the end my eyeballs were burning. I guess brain cells sizzle when they die.
I guess it was a thinking break for my mind, but by the end my eyeballs were burning. I guess brain cells sizzle when they die.
Tuesday, December 13
You're not supposed to blog about work.
So, the thing with work that was chapping my hide late last week? Kinda puffed up into a big, festering mess yesterday, and then un-puffed again and mostly went away. But right during the puffiest part, I panicked again.
I don't know why I react so violently to client conflict. I guess it's just because I simply h-h-h-a-a-t-t-e confrontation in my personal life; I work to avoid it. Probably to a dangerous level: I can pout silently until I'm about to explode with anger, just waiting for the risk of conflict to subside. So when my work demands that I meet conflict head-on -- to the point of forwarding all calls to my cell phone so I can't even let the difficult ones go into Voice Mail and call back when I'm ready! -- all in the name of Customer Service, I guess that bugs me.
Conflict exhausts my psyche. It frays my nerves. Further aggravated yesterday by the fact that I was at home and AJ had gotten into the CDs while I was on the phone, but since it was a client, I couldn't exactly pause to say, "No-No, honey."
There's a disconnect here.
I am not able to be fully present for my clients (ugh, what a sick thought that I even want to), nor, more important by far, be fully present for my son.
I have been distressed about it, thinking this was the end of the line and there was no option but to go back to the office 5 full days a week. But my logical Husband suggested a compromise. Why not continue working 2 days/week at home, but put AJ in daycare anyway -- just finish my work fast enough that I can pick him up at, say, 2:30 or 3 on those days. That just might work. Full investiture in work, during work, and full attention to AJ when work is done. I kind-of knew that by the time he reached this age, the work-from-home arrangement was going to need tweaking. So, there we are. I'm considering it.
I don't know why I react so violently to client conflict. I guess it's just because I simply h-h-h-a-a-t-t-e confrontation in my personal life; I work to avoid it. Probably to a dangerous level: I can pout silently until I'm about to explode with anger, just waiting for the risk of conflict to subside. So when my work demands that I meet conflict head-on -- to the point of forwarding all calls to my cell phone so I can't even let the difficult ones go into Voice Mail and call back when I'm ready! -- all in the name of Customer Service, I guess that bugs me.
Conflict exhausts my psyche. It frays my nerves. Further aggravated yesterday by the fact that I was at home and AJ had gotten into the CDs while I was on the phone, but since it was a client, I couldn't exactly pause to say, "No-No, honey."
There's a disconnect here.
I am not able to be fully present for my clients (ugh, what a sick thought that I even want to), nor, more important by far, be fully present for my son.
I have been distressed about it, thinking this was the end of the line and there was no option but to go back to the office 5 full days a week. But my logical Husband suggested a compromise. Why not continue working 2 days/week at home, but put AJ in daycare anyway -- just finish my work fast enough that I can pick him up at, say, 2:30 or 3 on those days. That just might work. Full investiture in work, during work, and full attention to AJ when work is done. I kind-of knew that by the time he reached this age, the work-from-home arrangement was going to need tweaking. So, there we are. I'm considering it.
Monday, December 12
...and I STILL haven't done any shopping!
Another weekend gone by and still no Christmas shopping done, YEAH! I am challenging myself this year, that's what. I want to see how long I can go before I FREAK OUT and start howling with the nervous. Prediction: Not Much Longer!
Friday, December 9
A Christmas Survey
Colored lights or white lights?
On the tree? Colored. I like a "family" tree with family ornaments, and I grew up with colored lights. Now, on the house? If we did lights outside? All white.
Real tree or fake tree?
Fake fake fake. Grew up with fake and that was part of the tradition, putting the branches together! :) It's such a hassle to get a real one. And so expensive. And the darn pine needles in the carpet make me crazy.
What is your least favorite thing about the holidays?
(Stole from a friend): Overwrought renditions of Christmas carols by pop stars.
(And mine:) The stress of so many parties that I feel obligated to attend.
What is the one thing that you would like to see under the tree this year?
Lots of fun toys for AJ
What is your favorite thing to do/build in the snow?
Snow ice cream was a favorite when I was a kid!
What is your favorite holiday drink?
I love me some Gluhwein! My friend Mark made this one year for us, and it was deeeelicious. Packs a punch, though, so beware!
What is your favorite holiday smell?
Actually, the smell of morning coffee used to always remind me of Christmas.
Who is your favorite reindeer?
Rudolph, duh!
What is your Christmas Eve ritual?
When I was little, we went to Granny's for a present exchange, and I learned later that it's a very German tradition to open presents on C. Eve. Which fits, 'cause that side of the family was German. Now we don't really have official ritual, except that my sister and I always like to hop in bed together (at least for a little while) and giggle and anticipate the next morning. Don't guess we'll do that this year… could be a bit awkward since we both have husbands now!
Are you a Friday after Thanksgiving shopper?
No way, no how.
What is your favorite holiday food?
So many foods, so little time. I might have to say "sand tarts," this version of the Italian wedding cookie my Granny used to make (and now my sister makes), but I generally prefer salty to sweet, so it might be Chex mix… I could go on and on with this question, really. :)
How did you find out that Santa wasn't real?
I don't remember.
Who do you want to be under the mistletoe with?
My husband. Or AJ. Although, don't you remember the days when you really had a crush on someone at the Christmas parties? My college friend (Mark, the same one as the Gluhwein story) used to have a party every year and he'd climb up big trees in order to get plenty of mistletoe to hang. I remember that feeling of wishing to be "accidentally" under it with someone… it never quite happened as romantically as I wanted it to, sigh.
Have you bought all your presents yet?
Are you kidding?
Do you spend Christmas with a lot of family?
When we go to Florida, I do! One year it was like a revolving door of family members coming by for present exchanges. Mom's side, then Dad's side right after. Then off to Aunt's house for dinner! Crazy!
Do you still make snowmen and snow angels?
If it would ever snow I'd totally make a snowman.
What's your favorite Christmas movie?
Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase
What do you plan to do for New Year's Eve?
As little as possible.
What's the weirdest thing you've ever gotten for Christmas?
2 years ago when I was pregnant, we got a miniature (toy?) car, like a model car (a Hummer), from DH's grandparents. ?! We didn't even know it was a boy yet so we couldn't figure out if it was for us or the baby.
What's the most expensive thing you've gotten for Christmas?
I guess last year my laptop was my Christmas present.
How early do you wake up on Christmas morning?
It's always been early. 6-ish, 6:30-ish.
What do you usually get in your stocking?
Lipstick, candy, nail polish, gift cards, cash. I LOVE stockings. We have ours in a different room than the tree and we always go, "Oh! We still have stockings to open!" after the other presents are done. It's a nice little post-lude!
Hey, feel free to play along if you like. In Comments or your own blog. Let me know, I love reading about other people's traditions.
On the tree? Colored. I like a "family" tree with family ornaments, and I grew up with colored lights. Now, on the house? If we did lights outside? All white.
Real tree or fake tree?
Fake fake fake. Grew up with fake and that was part of the tradition, putting the branches together! :) It's such a hassle to get a real one. And so expensive. And the darn pine needles in the carpet make me crazy.
What is your least favorite thing about the holidays?
(Stole from a friend): Overwrought renditions of Christmas carols by pop stars.
(And mine:) The stress of so many parties that I feel obligated to attend.
What is the one thing that you would like to see under the tree this year?
Lots of fun toys for AJ
What is your favorite thing to do/build in the snow?
Snow ice cream was a favorite when I was a kid!
What is your favorite holiday drink?
I love me some Gluhwein! My friend Mark made this one year for us, and it was deeeelicious. Packs a punch, though, so beware!
What is your favorite holiday smell?
Actually, the smell of morning coffee used to always remind me of Christmas.
Who is your favorite reindeer?
Rudolph, duh!
What is your Christmas Eve ritual?
When I was little, we went to Granny's for a present exchange, and I learned later that it's a very German tradition to open presents on C. Eve. Which fits, 'cause that side of the family was German. Now we don't really have official ritual, except that my sister and I always like to hop in bed together (at least for a little while) and giggle and anticipate the next morning. Don't guess we'll do that this year… could be a bit awkward since we both have husbands now!
Are you a Friday after Thanksgiving shopper?
No way, no how.
What is your favorite holiday food?
So many foods, so little time. I might have to say "sand tarts," this version of the Italian wedding cookie my Granny used to make (and now my sister makes), but I generally prefer salty to sweet, so it might be Chex mix… I could go on and on with this question, really. :)
How did you find out that Santa wasn't real?
I don't remember.
Who do you want to be under the mistletoe with?
My husband. Or AJ. Although, don't you remember the days when you really had a crush on someone at the Christmas parties? My college friend (Mark, the same one as the Gluhwein story) used to have a party every year and he'd climb up big trees in order to get plenty of mistletoe to hang. I remember that feeling of wishing to be "accidentally" under it with someone… it never quite happened as romantically as I wanted it to, sigh.
Have you bought all your presents yet?
Are you kidding?
Do you spend Christmas with a lot of family?
When we go to Florida, I do! One year it was like a revolving door of family members coming by for present exchanges. Mom's side, then Dad's side right after. Then off to Aunt's house for dinner! Crazy!
Do you still make snowmen and snow angels?
If it would ever snow I'd totally make a snowman.
What's your favorite Christmas movie?
Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase
What do you plan to do for New Year's Eve?
As little as possible.
What's the weirdest thing you've ever gotten for Christmas?
2 years ago when I was pregnant, we got a miniature (toy?) car, like a model car (a Hummer), from DH's grandparents. ?! We didn't even know it was a boy yet so we couldn't figure out if it was for us or the baby.
What's the most expensive thing you've gotten for Christmas?
I guess last year my laptop was my Christmas present.
How early do you wake up on Christmas morning?
It's always been early. 6-ish, 6:30-ish.
What do you usually get in your stocking?
Lipstick, candy, nail polish, gift cards, cash. I LOVE stockings. We have ours in a different room than the tree and we always go, "Oh! We still have stockings to open!" after the other presents are done. It's a nice little post-lude!
Hey, feel free to play along if you like. In Comments or your own blog. Let me know, I love reading about other people's traditions.
Things I'm grateful for
...Coventry Carol
...Starbuck's Peppermint Mocha
...Project Runway
...Fridays (the day, not the restaurant)
...Rachael Ray's French Bread Pizza Rustica recipe
Things I'm Not Grateful for:
...the blind leading the blind
...being solely accused when it's a shared mistake
...Christmas medleys
...project management. I signed up to write, not be a tech wizard.
...work, in general
Sorry, it's Gripe About Work Day. I'm ticked because a project I was put in charge of is not going as smoothly as it should. It's partly my fault, for not catching certain errors, but there are others who put their eyes on the very first documentation, and signed the agreements, who should have noticed the goof-ups, too. I was never really trained in the back-end technical stuff (nor do I have much interest in it). I came to this department because I wanted to write. To be honest, I wanted an easy-ish job (not that writing is easy)... one that would allow me to work from home part-time, because I have a child now and need to be able to focus my attention on him when I'm off-duty. I wanted to be able to leave work at work. I also wanted a position that would allow me to USE the skills that I have.
Instead, I was not surprisingly asked to become a project manager, and I guess that's fine, I agreed to it -- but I wasn't given the same training that the other project managers got. I went to no classes. I wasn't quizzed. I was just expected to figure things out. Thankfully I get constant help from my very kind coworkers along the way, but it's a bit unfair to ask me later, when something's gone wrong, "Why did you let this happen?" IT'S BECAUSE NO ONE EVER TAUGHT ME NOT TO. Not to mention, the least knowledgable programmer is the one they paired me up with on this particular project. So he didn't catch things, either. (Blind leading blind.)
ANYWAY. Sorry. I had to collect my thoughts on that matter. It's not as big a deal as I'm making it out to be. But I got a tad depressed about it all last night, when I got online to cruise the local job listings, just hypothetically you know, and realized I don't really even have a marketable skills set. I mean, yeah Customer Service and yeah "good communication skills," but I'm a master of nothing. I graduated college with honors but I feel qualified to be a receptionist. Or an "executive assistant." (I can set up lunch dates with the best of 'em.) But even the Exec. Ass't jobs I read required 3-5 years experience. Blllllllllah. Hate work. Not even this particular job, I just hate the general life-fact of work. I don't know if I'll ever find the kind of job that is "So much fun it doesn't feel like work." Ha ha ha, I laugh in that statement's general direction.
...I should concentrate on the Pizza Rustica and Project Runway instead, huh?
...Starbuck's Peppermint Mocha
...Project Runway
...Fridays (the day, not the restaurant)
...Rachael Ray's French Bread Pizza Rustica recipe
Things I'm Not Grateful for:
...the blind leading the blind
...being solely accused when it's a shared mistake
...Christmas medleys
...project management. I signed up to write, not be a tech wizard.
...work, in general
Sorry, it's Gripe About Work Day. I'm ticked because a project I was put in charge of is not going as smoothly as it should. It's partly my fault, for not catching certain errors, but there are others who put their eyes on the very first documentation, and signed the agreements, who should have noticed the goof-ups, too. I was never really trained in the back-end technical stuff (nor do I have much interest in it). I came to this department because I wanted to write. To be honest, I wanted an easy-ish job (not that writing is easy)... one that would allow me to work from home part-time, because I have a child now and need to be able to focus my attention on him when I'm off-duty. I wanted to be able to leave work at work. I also wanted a position that would allow me to USE the skills that I have.
Instead, I was not surprisingly asked to become a project manager, and I guess that's fine, I agreed to it -- but I wasn't given the same training that the other project managers got. I went to no classes. I wasn't quizzed. I was just expected to figure things out. Thankfully I get constant help from my very kind coworkers along the way, but it's a bit unfair to ask me later, when something's gone wrong, "Why did you let this happen?" IT'S BECAUSE NO ONE EVER TAUGHT ME NOT TO. Not to mention, the least knowledgable programmer is the one they paired me up with on this particular project. So he didn't catch things, either. (Blind leading blind.)
ANYWAY. Sorry. I had to collect my thoughts on that matter. It's not as big a deal as I'm making it out to be. But I got a tad depressed about it all last night, when I got online to cruise the local job listings, just hypothetically you know, and realized I don't really even have a marketable skills set. I mean, yeah Customer Service and yeah "good communication skills," but I'm a master of nothing. I graduated college with honors but I feel qualified to be a receptionist. Or an "executive assistant." (I can set up lunch dates with the best of 'em.) But even the Exec. Ass't jobs I read required 3-5 years experience. Blllllllllah. Hate work. Not even this particular job, I just hate the general life-fact of work. I don't know if I'll ever find the kind of job that is "So much fun it doesn't feel like work." Ha ha ha, I laugh in that statement's general direction.
...I should concentrate on the Pizza Rustica and Project Runway instead, huh?
Thursday, December 8
Joy in his feet (and sleep in my eyes)
I'm debating whether or not I can afford a wee little thirty-minute snooze. I think I can. I felt like I got good sleep last night -- I had vivid dreams -- and I had my however-many-ounces of coffee that I always have (I think it's about 18), but for some reason my eyes are tired this morning. Must be the weather. Overcast, cold: My favorite. Where's my blankie?.....yawwwwwn... there it is again, I'm just so drowszzz... *zzzonk. head hits laptozzzzzzzzzz.....ooof, snufflzzzzz, mmmymmmymmmmymmymmm....snort, twitch. shaking head.* See?
Want to hear something cool? AJ boogied with the Peanuts gang the other night when we watched the Christmas special on TV. He wasn't much intrested in it, besides Snoopy, who is, of course, a word that we know, DOG. But after barking with him once or twice it was right back to his books and toys on the floor of the living room. Except -- when the kids all starting bobbing up and down, turning their little cartoon heads left and right, and Schroder played "Linus and Lucy" on the piano, AJ got up and Danced. Round and round and stomping his little feet with happiness. :)
Want to hear something cool? AJ boogied with the Peanuts gang the other night when we watched the Christmas special on TV. He wasn't much intrested in it, besides Snoopy, who is, of course, a word that we know, DOG. But after barking with him once or twice it was right back to his books and toys on the floor of the living room. Except -- when the kids all starting bobbing up and down, turning their little cartoon heads left and right, and Schroder played "Linus and Lucy" on the piano, AJ got up and Danced. Round and round and stomping his little feet with happiness. :)
Monday, December 5
The weatherman's my Santa Claus
Thank you, Mr. Weatherman, for giving me the best Christmas present a girl could ask for: a very rainy Saturday, and cold, so that my Darling Husband was forced to postpone his leaf-raking extravaganza, and instead cozied up in the house with me and AJ, listening to Christmas tunes, walking around in sock-feet, and putting up the tree, all together family-like, the way it is Supposed to Be.
I am very, very grateful. And warm inside. :)
I am very, very grateful. And warm inside. :)
Thursday, December 1
Roll call
When AJ has to go down for his 4:30pm nap, which is becoming less and less frequent of late, since he's doing pretty OK on just a 2.5-hour midday nap (so growing up!!), he usually lays quietly in the crib and plays teacher. I say that because he calls out, as if from a list, each and every name of his loyal friends and relations:
"Mama?"
"Ah-ba-dah?" (Napoleon.)
"Dada?"
"Beer?" (Bear.)
"Lola?"
"Jo Jo?"
"Beer?"
"Mama?"
"Polie?" (also Napoleon.)
"Paci?"
"Bob?" (The Builder.)
"Lola?"
"Bop?" (Baby Bop. Distinguishable from Bob.)
"Ba-dee?" (Barney.)
...and then, even down to the lowliest of the low, his friend,
"Boo-boo?" (Poo Poo.)
No kidding.
I sit by the monitor and grin.
"Mama?"
"Ah-ba-dah?" (Napoleon.)
"Dada?"
"Beer?" (Bear.)
"Lola?"
"Jo Jo?"
"Beer?"
"Mama?"
"Polie?" (also Napoleon.)
"Paci?"
"Bob?" (The Builder.)
"Lola?"
"Bop?" (Baby Bop. Distinguishable from Bob.)
"Ba-dee?" (Barney.)
...and then, even down to the lowliest of the low, his friend,
"Boo-boo?" (Poo Poo.)
No kidding.
I sit by the monitor and grin.
Thankyaverymuuuch
My. House. Is. Decorated. For Christmas!! Yippie!
All that's left is the tree, and I admit that IS a big-ticket item, but I get more wigged out about all the other knicky-knacks and where do they go, and what do I take down and replace with something Christmas, and where should I hang garland or tie ribbons, etc. -- at least the tree is contained in one spot and I know where it goes and what goes on it. I've been puttering around the house this morning (sorry, Boss-man, but I also took 2 client phone calls) and realized just now... hey! I'm done! Pass the bubbly.
Decorating tip -- my Christmas gift to you: Use fresh coffee beans in your hurricane-lamp candle holders. Like this:
They smell all homey and delicious -- a nice, sweet compliment to your Yankee Candle "Mistletoe" candle burning in the other room -- and look pretty good too, if I do say so.
All that's left is the tree, and I admit that IS a big-ticket item, but I get more wigged out about all the other knicky-knacks and where do they go, and what do I take down and replace with something Christmas, and where should I hang garland or tie ribbons, etc. -- at least the tree is contained in one spot and I know where it goes and what goes on it. I've been puttering around the house this morning (sorry, Boss-man, but I also took 2 client phone calls) and realized just now... hey! I'm done! Pass the bubbly.
Decorating tip -- my Christmas gift to you: Use fresh coffee beans in your hurricane-lamp candle holders. Like this:
They smell all homey and delicious -- a nice, sweet compliment to your Yankee Candle "Mistletoe" candle burning in the other room -- and look pretty good too, if I do say so.
Wednesday, November 30
On the other end of the Friend-spectrum:
There is another woman I rilly, rilly WANT to be friends with. She's my son's daycare teacher. I said to Husband recently, "I rilly, rilly want her to be my friend in real life. Not just at daycare. You think I could ask her to lunch or something, like on a Saturday?" He looked at me like I was Weird. I probably am. But would it be totally out of the question to strike up a personal friendship with her? Would it be contrived? She's actually expecting her FIFTH! baby. Her first girl. (Meanwhile, she cares for 10 one-year-olds, eight hours a day. Did I mention this woman is quite amazing? I admire from afar.) And so her last day is most likely this Friday. SOB! Whimper! I am ever-so-thankful she's only taking 3 or 4 weeks off (her hubby works at home). Of course, she mentioned to me that SHE was glad, too -- she'll only miss a few weeks of her students' development. (Again, um... amazing?? She is so invested in MY kid et al, that she's cutting short her maternity leave? Perhaps the mentality is a bit more relaxed after five maternity leaves.) I'm thinking I will get her a wee little baby gift so she'll know I *like like* her. Hee! It's like 3rd grade over here. Maybe I should include "Check yes or no" boxes on the card.
You've got a little Reebok in your teeth, there
There is a new woman in my Book Club. Let's call her Betty. I have to tell you something: (stage whisper) I don't care for her. She's very nice, I guess, but I just haven't been able warm up to her At All. She feels very distant to me, very uninterested, and she's just... an outsider. We're a pretty tight group, and I know that my friend S. likes her, or she wouldn't have invited her to join us, but... Well, but nothing, I just don't dig her. My Book Club friends are a group of funny, outgoing, socially adept women with whom to dish and giggle, and also share this time in our lives -- wifehood and motherhood and whatever else we happen think about. Groceries. Health. Movies. Oh yeah, and books. Well, Betty's not a giggler, or a sharer. When she does talk, it's really slowly. She places every. word. deliberately. and matter-of-factly. and without expression. There just isn't any spice to her. I've not seen her laugh. Her 3 kids are older than all of ours, so she kinda hangs on the fringes of our teething/toddlering/baby stories. And besides that, she started her family rather late in her life, making her several years older than the rest of us. Sigh.
I know now why she might be like this. I think she she needs us -- I'm guessing that's why S. includes her. Found out last night that her brother, to whom she was closest in age, died in April. I found this out because I attempted to bring her into our conversation. -- I often try to do this when I think someone in a group isn't being included. (Is it a good habit, or a flaw? Should I just leave shy/quiet people alone? Sometimes I want to be left alone... need to think about this.) -- Anyway, S., J., and I have known each other for nearly 10 years now; we know each others' stories and details and histories. So I, politely, I thought, attempted to steer the conversation Betty's way. We were talking about families: "Betty, do you have any siblings?" And she had to leave the room before she started crying. I felt so bad. I'm sure she's still hurting. Open mouth, insert foot -- but how was I supposed to know that? Of course, I wasn't. But the incident is going to stick with me now. I'll have sympathy for her, yes, but I am going to feel guilty around her and won't let myself forget that I made her cry, and I still won't be able to warm up to her with this standing in my way. A conundrum.
I know now why she might be like this. I think she she needs us -- I'm guessing that's why S. includes her. Found out last night that her brother, to whom she was closest in age, died in April. I found this out because I attempted to bring her into our conversation. -- I often try to do this when I think someone in a group isn't being included. (Is it a good habit, or a flaw? Should I just leave shy/quiet people alone? Sometimes I want to be left alone... need to think about this.) -- Anyway, S., J., and I have known each other for nearly 10 years now; we know each others' stories and details and histories. So I, politely, I thought, attempted to steer the conversation Betty's way. We were talking about families: "Betty, do you have any siblings?" And she had to leave the room before she started crying. I felt so bad. I'm sure she's still hurting. Open mouth, insert foot -- but how was I supposed to know that? Of course, I wasn't. But the incident is going to stick with me now. I'll have sympathy for her, yes, but I am going to feel guilty around her and won't let myself forget that I made her cry, and I still won't be able to warm up to her with this standing in my way. A conundrum.
Monday, November 28
Beginning to look a lot like Christmas
A tidbit or two
It's wintery. Raining, not snowing, but the sky is dark with clouds and it's c-c-c-cold out there. I like being home with my little guy on days like this. In our PJs. We sat under blankets and did his puzzle about 4 times this morning. With milk. He's also a bit snuffly, so even better that I'm here to cuddle on him frequently (and wipe his nose, which he hates!) -- Mom's special duty. And by a bit snuffly, I mean the box of Kleenex I bought yesterday is half gone with the wiping.
Status Update on the Puh-deeeew: It's -- I'm -- in the laundry room. The washing machine stands at just about the right height for me to stand here and type, and I have the door pulled just far enough to conceal my true activity from Mr. Curious. He thinks I'm doing a LOT of laundry. It's going really well, actually, except for my bare feet starting to be tired from all the standing. When he needs me, he calls, "Mama," and I hop back over the gate. I've been able to conduct a bit of business with a lovely Dreft aromatherapy keeping me calm.
Kiss me and call me efficient: I have two, count'em, two crates of Christmas decorations activated, contents placed carefully by me, the Christmas fairy, around the house. Go fairy! Instead of trying to do it all in one long, ridiculous Decorating Day, I am trying to do it little by little and thus, not overwhelm myself. Husband's idea. He thought very hard about carrying all the stuff up from the basement last night, imagined what my reaction might be (melted into a puddle on the floor), and wisely decided on this one-at-a-time method. Such a smart fella. Only thing is, the mantle is looking a shade "off," what with the clock, the red taper candles, the can of Pledge and the bare stocking holders. Stockings and garland, I guess, are in Crate #3. We'll see how long it takes me to finish them all, and then next weekend: Tree!
And Every Day after that: "AJ, no-NO! We DON'T pull the ornaments off the tree and throw them into the fireplace. And don't touch those lights. Hothothot. No-no."
It's wintery. Raining, not snowing, but the sky is dark with clouds and it's c-c-c-cold out there. I like being home with my little guy on days like this. In our PJs. We sat under blankets and did his puzzle about 4 times this morning. With milk. He's also a bit snuffly, so even better that I'm here to cuddle on him frequently (and wipe his nose, which he hates!) -- Mom's special duty. And by a bit snuffly, I mean the box of Kleenex I bought yesterday is half gone with the wiping.
Status Update on the Puh-deeeew: It's -- I'm -- in the laundry room. The washing machine stands at just about the right height for me to stand here and type, and I have the door pulled just far enough to conceal my true activity from Mr. Curious. He thinks I'm doing a LOT of laundry. It's going really well, actually, except for my bare feet starting to be tired from all the standing. When he needs me, he calls, "Mama," and I hop back over the gate. I've been able to conduct a bit of business with a lovely Dreft aromatherapy keeping me calm.
Kiss me and call me efficient: I have two, count'em, two crates of Christmas decorations activated, contents placed carefully by me, the Christmas fairy, around the house. Go fairy! Instead of trying to do it all in one long, ridiculous Decorating Day, I am trying to do it little by little and thus, not overwhelm myself. Husband's idea. He thought very hard about carrying all the stuff up from the basement last night, imagined what my reaction might be (melted into a puddle on the floor), and wisely decided on this one-at-a-time method. Such a smart fella. Only thing is, the mantle is looking a shade "off," what with the clock, the red taper candles, the can of Pledge and the bare stocking holders. Stockings and garland, I guess, are in Crate #3. We'll see how long it takes me to finish them all, and then next weekend: Tree!
And Every Day after that: "AJ, no-NO! We DON'T pull the ornaments off the tree and throw them into the fireplace. And don't touch those lights. Hothothot. No-no."
Sunday, November 27
Wednesday, November 23
Oh, the Brainwaves
Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so.... right in front of my face. It was the grown-up version of "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day," starting with work -- one of those days when I really wanted to concentrate and everyone around me was having fun, how dare they?, laughing and talking it up outside my cube. (This was just in the morning, for about 5 minutes, dear coworkers who read me - not to worry - but for some reason it Set Me Off.) I tried headphones, but all the music did was totally jam up my brain and distract me even further.
Sally Client kept asking me questions, how dare she?, showing just how much she DOESN'T know and making me crazy with the questions when I was trying to wrap up a project for her before the stinking holiday. I kept trying to end our email conversation with "Sorry for being unclear before. Hope this helps," and "Thanks for your email, have a great holiday weekend," but she kept. Replying.
Then when I got in the car to drive home, my radio was too loud, I had to wait for the traffic light too long, and the heater was too hot. And I wanted a Coke. So, therefore, being insane and unreasonable, I broke down. I cried and I cried over hating my job sometimes, and over not being able to just quit and be a mommy, and by the way, I'd be a BETTER mommy if I didn't have to work -- I'd be able to actually spend time with AJ instead of sending him off to be cared for by Strangers!, and also when I got home I wouldn't give in and let him watch a half-hour of Barney just so I could get dinner started without any fuss, and also I want a Coke but I don't have any cash, and oh! don't even get me started on what a terrible WIFE I am, just barely scraping by as a Co-Parent/Roommate... not really being a very Good Friend to my husband, much less a good partner... and I just sobbed and hiccupped and messed up my makeup, and OH CRAP, now the daycare receptionists are going to see me and wonder what's wrong, and I'll probably break down in their office if they ask, and then they'll talk about me after I leave and worry that I'm unstable, and I probably am - I maybe need to ask the doctor about depression - and they'll be worried for AJ's sake... and, crap. Just stop. STOP THE MADNESS. Roll down the window, get some fresh air -- stay back, stupid tears! I will not have this. Breathe. Dammit. And then this started all over 2 or 3 times (I have a pretty long commute).
You ever have a day like this? WELL, I DO. Just about every Fracking month and I swear to god it always catches me with no warning. How can a person be THIS hormonally imbalanced?? How can I not KNOW that it's just the monthly woman-thing messing with my brain? How? Why? Usually it manifests with 2 days of me silently thinking my marriage is in trouble. Husband will say one thing to me, one word, even, like "Hey." And I'll just DIE of the sad.
It is mind-boggling, the day after.
When they invent a Palm-pilot organizer microchip that we can have installed in our brains, I'm going to be the first in line. I'm going to set mine with the loudest alarm it's got, that goes off every 4 weeks, shouting, "RED FLAG!! WARNING: EMOTIONAL BOMB AHEAD. TAKE COVER."
Sally Client kept asking me questions, how dare she?, showing just how much she DOESN'T know and making me crazy with the questions when I was trying to wrap up a project for her before the stinking holiday. I kept trying to end our email conversation with "Sorry for being unclear before. Hope this helps," and "Thanks for your email, have a great holiday weekend," but she kept. Replying.
Then when I got in the car to drive home, my radio was too loud, I had to wait for the traffic light too long, and the heater was too hot. And I wanted a Coke. So, therefore, being insane and unreasonable, I broke down. I cried and I cried over hating my job sometimes, and over not being able to just quit and be a mommy, and by the way, I'd be a BETTER mommy if I didn't have to work -- I'd be able to actually spend time with AJ instead of sending him off to be cared for by Strangers!, and also when I got home I wouldn't give in and let him watch a half-hour of Barney just so I could get dinner started without any fuss, and also I want a Coke but I don't have any cash, and oh! don't even get me started on what a terrible WIFE I am, just barely scraping by as a Co-Parent/Roommate... not really being a very Good Friend to my husband, much less a good partner... and I just sobbed and hiccupped and messed up my makeup, and OH CRAP, now the daycare receptionists are going to see me and wonder what's wrong, and I'll probably break down in their office if they ask, and then they'll talk about me after I leave and worry that I'm unstable, and I probably am - I maybe need to ask the doctor about depression - and they'll be worried for AJ's sake... and, crap. Just stop. STOP THE MADNESS. Roll down the window, get some fresh air -- stay back, stupid tears! I will not have this. Breathe. Dammit. And then this started all over 2 or 3 times (I have a pretty long commute).
You ever have a day like this? WELL, I DO. Just about every Fracking month and I swear to god it always catches me with no warning. How can a person be THIS hormonally imbalanced?? How can I not KNOW that it's just the monthly woman-thing messing with my brain? How? Why? Usually it manifests with 2 days of me silently thinking my marriage is in trouble. Husband will say one thing to me, one word, even, like "Hey." And I'll just DIE of the sad.
It is mind-boggling, the day after.
When they invent a Palm-pilot organizer microchip that we can have installed in our brains, I'm going to be the first in line. I'm going to set mine with the loudest alarm it's got, that goes off every 4 weeks, shouting, "RED FLAG!! WARNING: EMOTIONAL BOMB AHEAD. TAKE COVER."
Tuesday, November 22
Wait. Why did I post that?
I am feeling very negative this morning about everything. About my blog, first and foremost, because that last entry was rather depressing, and because I just don't have the time to write how I wish I could write. Even right now, I'm sitting here looking at the clock thinking, 8:16am, I need to be wrapping it up and getting on the road in about 15 minutes. Oh no, not enough time to finish a good entry or think of just the right way to say something With! Puunch! Just write something. Hit publish. Get it updated, because don't you Hate it when your favorite blogs don't update?! And I don't purport to think that my blog is anyone's favorite (except my Mom's, of course) -- but I do know that 4 people, maybe 5, actually read it regularly, so: the Pressure. Just know that I WISH it was better for you, my loyal readers. I WANT to entertain you (and hell, I want to entertain my own self, too. I'd like to go back and read all this one day and smile at my cleverness, my flair)! But that just ain't happ'nin.
More negativity about this week, because there's a ton of stuff to do before we hit the road, as always, including Laundry, the Bane of My Existence, and besides that we Intended with a REALLY capital "I" to get ALL of our Christmas shopping finished before Thanksgiving. And a hahahahahahahahaha, hahaha. Ha. We are So Foolish. But now that defeated Intention makes me want to kick and scream with the unfairness of it.
Boooooo.
More negativity about this week, because there's a ton of stuff to do before we hit the road, as always, including Laundry, the Bane of My Existence, and besides that we Intended with a REALLY capital "I" to get ALL of our Christmas shopping finished before Thanksgiving. And a hahahahahahahahaha, hahaha. Ha. We are So Foolish. But now that defeated Intention makes me want to kick and scream with the unfairness of it.
Boooooo.
Monday, November 21
A few more hours out
And after a day of life in the actual world
Whew, got a little philosophical and wishy there, thinking alllll the bad in the world can go away. I have to say.... a bit unrealistic. Nothing wrong with a little hope -- and I guess if you take on HOPE as your major theme and become a crusader for it, aka Bono, you have to speak it unceasingly and not falter from that. He had me going, too. I like having hope, I really do. Unfortunately, poverty isn't something that we can eradicate in the real, real world. (Which Bono says he would like to do.) How come no? Well, what if all the people in the world were somehow, rich. How nice that would be! But, umm... how rich? 'Cause you'd have to figure that out. You'd have to establish some common denominator, or common currency. The difficulty of just that, spanning all the languages and religious differences and government systems, I think, would end the whole project before it ever got started. And then if all the currency isn't equal, then there WOULD be some people who ended up with more cash than others. It's just the sad way things are. So anyway... yeah. (But the music still kicked ass.)
I did hear a news story today about the poverty that actually exists IN this country. Strangely, the family they profiled as rural have-nots lived near Saltville, Virginia, which is where AJ's paternal great-grandparents grew up, so it hit home a little. The wife in the report said she had to "save up or roll pennies" to buy toothpaste for her 5 little ones. Those were her options. She'd lie to her husband, telling him she "had a big lunch," in order that there was enough dinner to go around her evening table. So it made me feel pretty bad that when I passed the Mexican restaurant, I looooonged to eat dinner there instead of having to make my own. Selfish me. Just being able to whine like that -- thinking I don't have the OPTION, when really, I totally COULD afford it -- is something to be extremely thankful for. And I am.
P.S. You have sucessfully endured my Morality Essays. We now return to our regularly scheduled anecdotes of the most precious little toddler-boy ever. And, my everyday whining. Aren't you glad??
Whew, got a little philosophical and wishy there, thinking alllll the bad in the world can go away. I have to say.... a bit unrealistic. Nothing wrong with a little hope -- and I guess if you take on HOPE as your major theme and become a crusader for it, aka Bono, you have to speak it unceasingly and not falter from that. He had me going, too. I like having hope, I really do. Unfortunately, poverty isn't something that we can eradicate in the real, real world. (Which Bono says he would like to do.) How come no? Well, what if all the people in the world were somehow, rich. How nice that would be! But, umm... how rich? 'Cause you'd have to figure that out. You'd have to establish some common denominator, or common currency. The difficulty of just that, spanning all the languages and religious differences and government systems, I think, would end the whole project before it ever got started. And then if all the currency isn't equal, then there WOULD be some people who ended up with more cash than others. It's just the sad way things are. So anyway... yeah. (But the music still kicked ass.)
I did hear a news story today about the poverty that actually exists IN this country. Strangely, the family they profiled as rural have-nots lived near Saltville, Virginia, which is where AJ's paternal great-grandparents grew up, so it hit home a little. The wife in the report said she had to "save up or roll pennies" to buy toothpaste for her 5 little ones. Those were her options. She'd lie to her husband, telling him she "had a big lunch," in order that there was enough dinner to go around her evening table. So it made me feel pretty bad that when I passed the Mexican restaurant, I looooonged to eat dinner there instead of having to make my own. Selfish me. Just being able to whine like that -- thinking I don't have the OPTION, when really, I totally COULD afford it -- is something to be extremely thankful for. And I am.
P.S. You have sucessfully endured my Morality Essays. We now return to our regularly scheduled anecdotes of the most precious little toddler-boy ever. And, my everyday whining. Aren't you glad??
This I believe
On Saturday, we went to the U2 concert. I have had a hard time, since then, describing it to people who've asked, "how was it?" because it was, without a doubt, indescribable. Unforgettable. Unexpected. And unbelieveable. That's the word I've used most often. Unbelieveable.
Of course, we expected a fantastic show. But not the feeling of gratitute. Not the CALM that seemed to be part of the whole thing, even amidst the crazy loud WONDERFUL loud that is rock-and-roll music. It was calm. It was peaceful. It was Good.
It's interesting, because as much as U2 is the world's biggest band, and as grateful and happy that I am to have seen them during the height of their fame and talent and glory -- when they appeared onstage I didn't scream and shake like so many Beatles fans, with the thrill of seeing them in the Same Room. I just felt...um... content. Concrete. It was Right, the way I felt about them being there. Maybe it's because they have so many performance videos, or because I've watched Rattle and Hum about six (or ten) times. But I felt kind-of a sense of completeness -- like, here is this band that I've seen so many times before, and all it is, is perfect.
Each one of them, Bono, Edge, Larry, and Adam, is just so solid -- they're... pillars, so incredibly strong in their talents. (We heard Larry last night on 60 minutes, and when Ed Bradley asked him why doesn't he do big drum solos, he responded, "Because I'm not that good and I have to concentrate pretty hard." Hahahahahahaha. That made me laugh. Not that good. Yeah.) The way their show is set up, there's a camera on each of the performers, and of course the requisite huge video screens. I thought that was perfect. Each of them deserves -- and gets -- equal amounts of respect as musicians. Without one of them, there's no band. So it was good to be able to watch them all as individuals.
The opening was the most gorgeous display, maybe even "enactment," of a song that I've ever witnessed. Surprisingly, they've opened most of their shows on this tour with "City of Blinding Lights." Which is a great song, but not the one you hear all over the radio. It caught me off-guard. But it couldn't have been more perfect. The set had these huge panels of lightbulbs -- strung together and hanging down from the rafters, not on boards like the old days. Those panels served both as light apparatus and as video screens, which was simply amazing. During "Lights," obviously, they became bright lights stretching out over the crowd, showcasing the glitter confetti that was released to fall over us. It was magnificent -- such a celebration! (And, I'll admit somewhat greedily, it felt like U2 was celebrating US, the fans. Actually that's not greedy, I think they were. Bono said at one point during the show, "You've given us a great life." I love when stars thank their fans. He followed it with, "And in return.... we don't make crap music." !! All that he is, and he's also a comedian. So funny.)
They sang "Sunday Bloody Sunday," and Bono said "This is your song now, America." Touched my heart, made me so, so sad. They sang, "Where the Streets Have No Name," which I've never really understood 'til hearing it live. They sang, "Bullet the Blue Sky," which probably isn't everyone's favorite, but it is one of mine since I discovered them with that album. They sang "Mysterious Ways" and pulled one lucky fan onstage to dance, and we allhated her loved her. We sang "Pride/In the Name of Love" and "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and I absolutely had tears spilling over. This is what the world needs more of, my friends -- thousands of people standing, singing about LOVE and kindness, together, at the tops of our lungs. It's simply amazing to join together like that -- it's what the world should be.
Forgive me for being SUCH a sap about this event. At one point I thought to myself, "Is this, like, a defining moment in my adult life?" And you know what? I think it was. Not that all of a sudden I'm going to go out and save the world with my activism, or start following the band around like an uber-fan, but it just made me aware. Bono's always spoken out about world issues, but it's not just his schtick -- it's the right thing for him to do. He is a good person. And we all ought to be part of that. Not for him, but for each other. I think my warm feelings about the concert are also becuase U2 has been important at every stage of my life. At age 12, it was "With or Without You," and I didn't even know or care who sang it. But I knew it. In 9th grade, I really became a fan and bought some albums, and my best friend and I cooed over her date with a Senior who took her to see Rattle and Hum, the first "concert" movie of its kind. I was just starting college with "Actung Baby," and played that CD over and over and over in my dorm room. The songs are just part of all of us.
U2, the Vertigo tour, was for me like one big enjoyable sermon, with Bono preaching his gospel of tolerance and human rights and One-ness. The concert ended with everyone singing "People... Have the Power...People... Have the Power..." Power to what? -- to change lives. To help each other. To be together. To love. That's what I felt we got out of it. A great reminder -- along with an enormous helping of all our favorite life-songs -- to love each other. I believe this is what Bono intends for us to get from his life, and from their music. (I sort-of believe he's reached demi-god status in my generation, or at least prophet-status.) I believe this is going to stay with me a long time (I still haven't been able to listen to music other than U2 yet.) And I believe it's nothing short of God's own work that they do.
Of course, we expected a fantastic show. But not the feeling of gratitute. Not the CALM that seemed to be part of the whole thing, even amidst the crazy loud WONDERFUL loud that is rock-and-roll music. It was calm. It was peaceful. It was Good.
It's interesting, because as much as U2 is the world's biggest band, and as grateful and happy that I am to have seen them during the height of their fame and talent and glory -- when they appeared onstage I didn't scream and shake like so many Beatles fans, with the thrill of seeing them in the Same Room. I just felt...um... content. Concrete. It was Right, the way I felt about them being there. Maybe it's because they have so many performance videos, or because I've watched Rattle and Hum about six (or ten) times. But I felt kind-of a sense of completeness -- like, here is this band that I've seen so many times before, and all it is, is perfect.
Each one of them, Bono, Edge, Larry, and Adam, is just so solid -- they're... pillars, so incredibly strong in their talents. (We heard Larry last night on 60 minutes, and when Ed Bradley asked him why doesn't he do big drum solos, he responded, "Because I'm not that good and I have to concentrate pretty hard." Hahahahahahaha. That made me laugh. Not that good. Yeah.) The way their show is set up, there's a camera on each of the performers, and of course the requisite huge video screens. I thought that was perfect. Each of them deserves -- and gets -- equal amounts of respect as musicians. Without one of them, there's no band. So it was good to be able to watch them all as individuals.
The opening was the most gorgeous display, maybe even "enactment," of a song that I've ever witnessed. Surprisingly, they've opened most of their shows on this tour with "City of Blinding Lights." Which is a great song, but not the one you hear all over the radio. It caught me off-guard. But it couldn't have been more perfect. The set had these huge panels of lightbulbs -- strung together and hanging down from the rafters, not on boards like the old days. Those panels served both as light apparatus and as video screens, which was simply amazing. During "Lights," obviously, they became bright lights stretching out over the crowd, showcasing the glitter confetti that was released to fall over us. It was magnificent -- such a celebration! (And, I'll admit somewhat greedily, it felt like U2 was celebrating US, the fans. Actually that's not greedy, I think they were. Bono said at one point during the show, "You've given us a great life." I love when stars thank their fans. He followed it with, "And in return.... we don't make crap music." !! All that he is, and he's also a comedian. So funny.)
They sang "Sunday Bloody Sunday," and Bono said "This is your song now, America." Touched my heart, made me so, so sad. They sang, "Where the Streets Have No Name," which I've never really understood 'til hearing it live. They sang, "Bullet the Blue Sky," which probably isn't everyone's favorite, but it is one of mine since I discovered them with that album. They sang "Mysterious Ways" and pulled one lucky fan onstage to dance, and we all
Forgive me for being SUCH a sap about this event. At one point I thought to myself, "Is this, like, a defining moment in my adult life?" And you know what? I think it was. Not that all of a sudden I'm going to go out and save the world with my activism, or start following the band around like an uber-fan, but it just made me aware. Bono's always spoken out about world issues, but it's not just his schtick -- it's the right thing for him to do. He is a good person. And we all ought to be part of that. Not for him, but for each other. I think my warm feelings about the concert are also becuase U2 has been important at every stage of my life. At age 12, it was "With or Without You," and I didn't even know or care who sang it. But I knew it. In 9th grade, I really became a fan and bought some albums, and my best friend and I cooed over her date with a Senior who took her to see Rattle and Hum, the first "concert" movie of its kind. I was just starting college with "Actung Baby," and played that CD over and over and over in my dorm room. The songs are just part of all of us.
U2, the Vertigo tour, was for me like one big enjoyable sermon, with Bono preaching his gospel of tolerance and human rights and One-ness. The concert ended with everyone singing "People... Have the Power...People... Have the Power..." Power to what? -- to change lives. To help each other. To be together. To love. That's what I felt we got out of it. A great reminder -- along with an enormous helping of all our favorite life-songs -- to love each other. I believe this is what Bono intends for us to get from his life, and from their music. (I sort-of believe he's reached demi-god status in my generation, or at least prophet-status.) I believe this is going to stay with me a long time (I still haven't been able to listen to music other than U2 yet.) And I believe it's nothing short of God's own work that they do.
Friday, November 18
I'm a turkey
In anticipation of next week's feasting, I thought I'd preview my blessings. But instead of reflecting on what has been, here's what I'm looking forward to. And by that, I mean the food:
- Deviled Eggs!!! Lurrrrrvh them. (Probably the only thing that I can help my mother-in-law make)
- Ham rolls for breakfast
- That is, real live Homemade yeast rolls, you understand. How many people get those anymore? It's a treat!
- Cranberry Jelly. Ocean Spray, with the can's ridges imprinted.
- Homemade cookies galore. And she does make the best cookies.
- Pumpkin soup. Oh, how I love my mom's pumpkin soup. It's not a childhood tradition, but just in the last few years she's made it, and it is divine. Thick, creamy, spicy. Maybe I'll make it early next week before we leave town.
- Cajun dressing and the post-feast dressing sandwiches. (But at least there's Christmas to look forward to; we make it then, too!)
- Cold White Zin. Dad's always forthcoming with the wine on major holidays.
- Dozens of relatives around the table. It's the one thing that doesn't feel normal to me, when we're not in Pensacola. The table is small and there are just 6 of us. Not that it's a bad thing to have an "intimate setting;" it's less sink-time washing china and silver, that's for sure! But growing up I don't think we ever had Thanksgiving with fewer than 12 attendees. Everything's just so festive when there's a crowd.
Wednesday, November 16
Happy country
Taking a short break from my data entry task today, to make note of some recent splashing I did in the familiar puddle of country music.
I watched the CMA awards last night, hoping to cheer for "my friends" in Sugarland as they won the Horizon award and several others for which they were nominated. But they didn't win. Instead, I cheered them in their stellar performance, and just in the fact that they were there. They have arrived. They had so much fun on stage, as they always do, and I am so happy for them. It's a strange pride to see someone on national TV that I've heard play so many times, in such small bars, where I was *this close* and could swear they were singing right to me and looking in my eyes. :)
Actually, the whole show was kind-of a "hello, old friends" episode for me. From about '96 to '99, my radio dial was all about country. Somehow I stopped listening to it, though, right about the time I met my husband. He was introducing me to a lot of great new, alternative music, for which I'm eternally grateful. That's how my musical tastes go, really -- always rotating around. Seems to me today's country music is a lot about hanging in there, about good lovin', long-time marriages, simpler times, and embracing, with a slightly embarrased laugh, the rednecks among us. At least those are the songs that speak to me lately.
Anyway, Keith Urban, CMA's Entertainer of the Year, was one of my favorites for a long time. I pulled out his first album and listened to it on my drive in today. (Who needs NPR anyway?) It's a fantastic album -- lots of love songs, some of which triggered my tear ducts. I miss having love songs in my head. Too many daily details pushing them off the edges, I guess.
That, and the Sesame Street songs. I think AJ asked for "C is for Cookie" about eighteen times yesterday.... 'Course, that one IS a love song, if you want to get technical. :)
I watched the CMA awards last night, hoping to cheer for "my friends" in Sugarland as they won the Horizon award and several others for which they were nominated. But they didn't win. Instead, I cheered them in their stellar performance, and just in the fact that they were there. They have arrived. They had so much fun on stage, as they always do, and I am so happy for them. It's a strange pride to see someone on national TV that I've heard play so many times, in such small bars, where I was *this close* and could swear they were singing right to me and looking in my eyes. :)
Actually, the whole show was kind-of a "hello, old friends" episode for me. From about '96 to '99, my radio dial was all about country. Somehow I stopped listening to it, though, right about the time I met my husband. He was introducing me to a lot of great new, alternative music, for which I'm eternally grateful. That's how my musical tastes go, really -- always rotating around. Seems to me today's country music is a lot about hanging in there, about good lovin', long-time marriages, simpler times, and embracing, with a slightly embarrased laugh, the rednecks among us. At least those are the songs that speak to me lately.
Anyway, Keith Urban, CMA's Entertainer of the Year, was one of my favorites for a long time. I pulled out his first album and listened to it on my drive in today. (Who needs NPR anyway?) It's a fantastic album -- lots of love songs, some of which triggered my tear ducts. I miss having love songs in my head. Too many daily details pushing them off the edges, I guess.
That, and the Sesame Street songs. I think AJ asked for "C is for Cookie" about eighteen times yesterday.... 'Course, that one IS a love song, if you want to get technical. :)
Tuesday, November 15
An idea hits me with the *smack* of a 2x4
Or, My New Plan.
This clearly is not working. AJ's wailing through the monitor to let me know he Wants with a capital W, my Puh-Deeeeewwwwwww (computer). He alternates pitiful sobs with "Puhdeeeeewwww" and "Bye-byyyyyye?" Because I told him the puhdew was going bye-bye, and he was going to nap. So heartbreakingly cute. And yet, so everything opposite of cute.
I think the kitchen table arrangement is going to have to end forever. And it should have ended a long time ago, but Iam too dense started working at home with him when he was 6 months old, and he'd bounce happily in his bouncy seat next to me, on the table, while I tappety-tapped on the keyboard. Then I'd switch him to the Exer-saucer and back, and he remained a happy camper. And I never thought that our location was going to cause problems as he got older. No matter that I didn't have a real "office" space in my house; this worked fine. And I let it become my routine. Well, now we have a whole nother story.
I'm going to admit something -- I only use my baby gates (portable ones, not hard-mounted) at the staircases. I don't ever "gate" baby in, just to keep him contained. For me the gates were a critical measure of safety, but I didn't like the idea of building a "pen" where Baby would be "imprisoned." Silly Idealist Mommy. After these last two days (plus some months) of the whining and screaming, I think I'm going to try it. How many of you mommies out there do this? The baby-gate box shows a mommy who's perfectly happy to have her kids cordonned off, so that she can go about her day -- maybe it works?
I'm thinking I will position our 2 gates, 1 at the top of the stairs, obviously, and the other in the doorway to my bedroom. There's a tabletop in my room where I can set the laptop, and if I position it just right, he may not even see me using it (that is the goal, because if he does see it, he'll just whine at the gate and I've gained nothing). This leaves him his entire room, his bathroom, the guest room, and the area in front of my room which has a nice bookcase for him todestroy explore. I have also been thinking lately that I play too closely with AJ. I need to try and wean him of the habit of having me Right There next to him, on the floor at all times. He can be in one room while I'm in another, right? (Sheesh, when I put it out there on paper it makes me feel an awful lot like I spoil him. I have never intended to.)
Do you think this might work? I'll totally go over the gate and play with him or rescue him, whenever. And I don't mean this is how we'll spend our entire day. It's just that he'll be kept away from the temptation that is the computer. I think leaving it out, where he can see it, is teasing him. "Mommy can use the computer any time, but you can't." Not that I think kids should be sheltered from the word "No," mind you. Or that kids should ever be given open access -- there are obviously things that are just for grown-ups. But this way seems a kinder approach. If it works everyone will be happier. And he'll grow up independent and self-assured and content. Right? :) We'll test it next Monday and see. (Of course I realize there will be somewhat of a learning period to get used to the arrangement.)
I am open to your suggestions.
This clearly is not working. AJ's wailing through the monitor to let me know he Wants with a capital W, my Puh-Deeeeewwwwwww (computer). He alternates pitiful sobs with "Puhdeeeeewwww" and "Bye-byyyyyye?" Because I told him the puhdew was going bye-bye, and he was going to nap. So heartbreakingly cute. And yet, so everything opposite of cute.
I think the kitchen table arrangement is going to have to end forever. And it should have ended a long time ago, but I
I'm going to admit something -- I only use my baby gates (portable ones, not hard-mounted) at the staircases. I don't ever "gate" baby in, just to keep him contained. For me the gates were a critical measure of safety, but I didn't like the idea of building a "pen" where Baby would be "imprisoned." Silly Idealist Mommy. After these last two days (plus some months) of the whining and screaming, I think I'm going to try it. How many of you mommies out there do this? The baby-gate box shows a mommy who's perfectly happy to have her kids cordonned off, so that she can go about her day -- maybe it works?
I'm thinking I will position our 2 gates, 1 at the top of the stairs, obviously, and the other in the doorway to my bedroom. There's a tabletop in my room where I can set the laptop, and if I position it just right, he may not even see me using it (that is the goal, because if he does see it, he'll just whine at the gate and I've gained nothing). This leaves him his entire room, his bathroom, the guest room, and the area in front of my room which has a nice bookcase for him to
Do you think this might work? I'll totally go over the gate and play with him or rescue him, whenever. And I don't mean this is how we'll spend our entire day. It's just that he'll be kept away from the temptation that is the computer. I think leaving it out, where he can see it, is teasing him. "Mommy can use the computer any time, but you can't." Not that I think kids should be sheltered from the word "No," mind you. Or that kids should ever be given open access -- there are obviously things that are just for grown-ups. But this way seems a kinder approach. If it works everyone will be happier. And he'll grow up independent and self-assured and content. Right? :) We'll test it next Monday and see. (Of course I realize there will be somewhat of a learning period to get used to the arrangement.)
I am open to your suggestions.
Monday, November 14
Weekend
I finished my book in 4 days flat. I sucked it right down and chased it with sweet tea. It was delicious.
...
Leaves, leaves, and more stinking leaves. They tend to fall here in large gusts, so one minute, you've just raked up thirty gatrillion of them and your yard is pristine, and then next minute, a gust comes by and it rains leaves for 2 or 3 minutes, and then you cry. Of course, lucky for me, yard duty is my Husband's, in general. Although I did rake 4 whole piles for him while simultaneously chasing AJ and making sure he didn't step in dog poop.
...
I am sad that I'm going to miss Blogging 4 Books. I think it's a good topic this time. But by midnight tonight a winning entry probably isn't gonna happen for me. AJ's sickly. Spent the first part of this morning vomiting -- we think it was the brats that did it. Bratwurst, that is. He LOVED the stuff and ate a lot of it. I stupidly thought, "Hey, it's like hot dogs." But his little tummy let me know that it is Not At All like hot dogs. So the 2nd part of this morning was spent with AJ holding me hostage in nothing but a bra and jeans. I had to take my shirt off for vomity reasons, ew, and he was so tired and sickly that he just Needed His Mama. He was fast asleep before I managed to run upstairs, set him down, and throw on a t-shirt. I couldn't resist him, anyway; was perfectly willing to be held hostage by him, as long as the side of his head that smelled *good* was nearest my nose. Ha. Just kidding. I'd smell the pukey side and Like It. That is what mother's love is, people.
...
Leaves, leaves, and more stinking leaves. They tend to fall here in large gusts, so one minute, you've just raked up thirty gatrillion of them and your yard is pristine, and then next minute, a gust comes by and it rains leaves for 2 or 3 minutes, and then you cry. Of course, lucky for me, yard duty is my Husband's, in general. Although I did rake 4 whole piles for him while simultaneously chasing AJ and making sure he didn't step in dog poop.
...
I am sad that I'm going to miss Blogging 4 Books. I think it's a good topic this time. But by midnight tonight a winning entry probably isn't gonna happen for me. AJ's sickly. Spent the first part of this morning vomiting -- we think it was the brats that did it. Bratwurst, that is. He LOVED the stuff and ate a lot of it. I stupidly thought, "Hey, it's like hot dogs." But his little tummy let me know that it is Not At All like hot dogs. So the 2nd part of this morning was spent with AJ holding me hostage in nothing but a bra and jeans. I had to take my shirt off for vomity reasons, ew, and he was so tired and sickly that he just Needed His Mama. He was fast asleep before I managed to run upstairs, set him down, and throw on a t-shirt. I couldn't resist him, anyway; was perfectly willing to be held hostage by him, as long as the side of his head that smelled *good* was nearest my nose. Ha. Just kidding. I'd smell the pukey side and Like It. That is what mother's love is, people.
Friday, November 11
Note to Self:
When I become a mother-in-law one day, God willing, and have a lovely daughter-in-law with whom to share my son and my future grandkids, I must remember the following:
If, for example, she works from home on Mondays and Thursdays -- HYPOTHETICALLY, you understand... and if I've been told gently, several times, that she has precious little time in which to actually DO her work on those days -- like, while the baby is napping, which is usually from around 10:30am to around 1:30pm...? I MUST REMEMBER NOT TO CALL HER AT THOSE TIMES OF THE DAY.
And also, it probably would be best NOT to call repeatedly at, say, 7:00 p.m., and open my conversation, every time, not with "Hi!" but with "Did I catch you right at dinner?" Because, YES, YES I WILL HAVE CAUGHT THEM RIGHT AT DINNER, AND SAYING SO FIRST RATTLE OUT OF THE BOX JUST EMPHASIZES THE FACT THAT I KNOW I will catch them at dinner, and therefore they will wonder, "Why in the hell did she call at this time??"
Bless my future heart.
If, for example, she works from home on Mondays and Thursdays -- HYPOTHETICALLY, you understand... and if I've been told gently, several times, that she has precious little time in which to actually DO her work on those days -- like, while the baby is napping, which is usually from around 10:30am to around 1:30pm...? I MUST REMEMBER NOT TO CALL HER AT THOSE TIMES OF THE DAY.
And also, it probably would be best NOT to call repeatedly at, say, 7:00 p.m., and open my conversation, every time, not with "Hi!" but with "Did I catch you right at dinner?" Because, YES, YES I WILL HAVE CAUGHT THEM RIGHT AT DINNER, AND SAYING SO FIRST RATTLE OUT OF THE BOX JUST EMPHASIZES THE FACT THAT I KNOW I will catch them at dinner, and therefore they will wonder, "Why in the hell did she call at this time??"
Bless my future heart.
Thursday, November 10
Looking at TV
All those smarty-pants American Academy of Pediatrics people who say that children under 2 should Never, No Never Watch One Single Moment of TV, EVER, can kiss my butt. How can kids these days avoid it? AJ watches his shows, and he gets smarter every day. And to all the mouths from whom the phrase "As long as you don't use it as a babysitter" drips judgmentally, I say: Hogwash. If it keeps him occupied for 5 or 10 minutes at a stretch, and I'm trying to get my work done, then that Babysitter is Hired.
I've been thinking about it (because I Worry, you know, about Things) -- if we were the "TV generation," then what are our kids going to be? It's only gotten more prevalent, with more channels and more TVs in every home they'll ever visit. I think about my TV childhood, because despite my mother's best intentions, we watched a good bit of TV. Not 24 hours a day, mind you, but I think she probably got to a point where she just quit fighting it -- because you just can't win. The force of its pull is too great. I see it already, that big glowing Eye looking at AJ saying, "Come here, my child. I'm fascinating and I'm going to gently eat your brain cells, and you're going to slip into a daze and you'll kinda like it. Mwahahahahahaaaa."
I know it can be a setup for lazy habits later, but he still likes to run around - A LOT - so I'm not worried at this point about the deadly sin of Sloth. And believe me, I won't allow it when we reach school age and tween-dom. I fully intend to enforce rules about when and what to watch, and Praise God for the V-Chip. No TVs in Kids' Rooms, Ever. And I SO will encourage TV Turnoff Week. I think it's a fabulous idea. In fact, I bet my kid(s) won't protest as much as my Husband and I will, after they've gone to bed! An exercise in patience and discipline.
Anyway, I've accepted that he's going to watch. I can't stop him. I actually love some of the shows we let him see. Little Einsteins is great for the music and art. Higglytown Heroes shows that everyone is important. Bob the Builder throws in little environmental lessons here and there. And the half-hour Barney episode at 3:30pm saves my life some days. I don't think it's going to kill him.
I've been thinking about it (because I Worry, you know, about Things) -- if we were the "TV generation," then what are our kids going to be? It's only gotten more prevalent, with more channels and more TVs in every home they'll ever visit. I think about my TV childhood, because despite my mother's best intentions, we watched a good bit of TV. Not 24 hours a day, mind you, but I think she probably got to a point where she just quit fighting it -- because you just can't win. The force of its pull is too great. I see it already, that big glowing Eye looking at AJ saying, "Come here, my child. I'm fascinating and I'm going to gently eat your brain cells, and you're going to slip into a daze and you'll kinda like it. Mwahahahahahaaaa."
I know it can be a setup for lazy habits later, but he still likes to run around - A LOT - so I'm not worried at this point about the deadly sin of Sloth. And believe me, I won't allow it when we reach school age and tween-dom. I fully intend to enforce rules about when and what to watch, and Praise God for the V-Chip. No TVs in Kids' Rooms, Ever. And I SO will encourage TV Turnoff Week. I think it's a fabulous idea. In fact, I bet my kid(s) won't protest as much as my Husband and I will, after they've gone to bed! An exercise in patience and discipline.
Anyway, I've accepted that he's going to watch. I can't stop him. I actually love some of the shows we let him see. Little Einsteins is great for the music and art. Higglytown Heroes shows that everyone is important. Bob the Builder throws in little environmental lessons here and there. And the half-hour Barney episode at 3:30pm saves my life some days. I don't think it's going to kill him.
Wednesday, November 9
The bookworm's back
Dudes, I finally got gods in Alabama after Barnes & Noble made me wait and wait for it, argh. Last night I read about 65 pages in about 10 minutes. Okay, maybe not that fast, but it felt that fast. Compelling! Interesting! Funny! I think I'm in love.
My husband says to me the other night, "I hardly ever see you reading anymore." Well, that is because it has been a super-long time since I've read a GOOD book. Our last book club selection was Cloud Atlas. It was difficult and boring. Before that, Good Wives, a women's studies dissertation project, I think. Interesting, but difficult, and also boring. Not that we aren't intelligent people -- we are. But we sometimes need to read for pleasure. I think this one's going to be just the ticket. Yay. :)
My husband says to me the other night, "I hardly ever see you reading anymore." Well, that is because it has been a super-long time since I've read a GOOD book. Our last book club selection was Cloud Atlas. It was difficult and boring. Before that, Good Wives, a women's studies dissertation project, I think. Interesting, but difficult, and also boring. Not that we aren't intelligent people -- we are. But we sometimes need to read for pleasure. I think this one's going to be just the ticket. Yay. :)
Monday, November 7
Pew-pew
My child can en-un-ci-ate!
Not to worry, there is no actual poo-poo in this story, it's just that AJ has taken to talking about it. It's very funny. It usually occurs as he wakes up -- he blinks a few times and then lets us know a Very Important Thing: "Pew-pew?" Like a question, but also a statement. He screws up his face and works his little mouth around the new words, and he's really TRYING to communicate. It is SO. CUTE. The weird part is that there usually isn't, in fact, any poo-poo. But he's patting his bottom, so he evidently knows that of which he speaks... or at least, where it lives... It makes me laugh and then frightens me a little. Is this a sign he's on the advanced track toward Potty Training? I know he's not ready yet, but 18 months is supposedly when you can start thinking about it, and that's not very far away. And he's also showing lots of interest in flushing the potty lately. He doesn't so much care what's in it, but today he did look at the empty, clean potty, and say, "Pew-pew?" Yes, honey, that's where poo-poo goes. (MY LORD, is this what it has come to?? ...Yes, yes, I guess it is... This is Real Life Mit Toddler. Enjoy!) Next thing you know I'll have to buy that red book. You know, the one my sister and I used to giggle about mightily when we were 8 and 10, because we were born in the era BEFORE that book and it seemed so utterly nonsensical. I have to admit, I fear Potty Training a little bit.
*pause while I consider the fear*
Moving on!
--I'm coveting. I want new Clothes and new Stuff, including the Most Adorable Quilted Christmas Stockings from Pottery Barn Kids (I'm going to order 4 and leave one without a monogram for -- gasp! -- a future child! So we will all match, someday. Is that crazy? I'm sure it's asking for trouble but I Have to order it, don't I?) Pottery Barn Kids, why do you mock me so? I'd like something on every page, please. Well, except the Very Pretentious Decorator Kids' Rooms. Those are a bit out of control with their matching painted wood drawers and handy-but-stylish monogrammed cubby baskets, and little retro multiplication flash cards pinned to a cork board, and smart blue gingham valances. Sigh. I love these rooms but I just don't think they're very realistic. At least not in my reality. My reality seems to be a lot more plastic than Pottery Barn's.
--After 2 weeks "off," I got up to workout this morning with my pal, Gilad. That man is out of his gourd and mostly creepy. I wouldn't want to be one of his minions-in-leotards, pumping and kicking and Smiling behind him. Blech. But he does a pretty kickass workout. My body is headed toward sculpture-dom, woo hoo!
--I now have $138.42 in credit at the Book Nook. (Local used bookstore.) I LOVE me a good local used bookstore. Didn't have time or energy to fight AJ and really browse today, so we came home with a Barney Little Golden Book and a Baby Mickey something kind of book. He is in love with both of them. But, $138!! When am I going to find time to read that many books?! Who knows. But it's a nice feeling, anyway. Something for FREE! And I got rid of the books that had been sitting in my coat closet these past 16 months. They were going to be a "while on maternity leave" project. Ahem.
Ooh, and the book clerk gave me a sorta backhanded compliment while checking my trade-ins. He said, "Did you read all these books? Because they're all pretty.... literary. Usually when we see Moms come in with kids..." and I knew he was going to say something rude about my fellow mommies and Romance novels, so I Laughed Politely to stop the comment before it happened. Because who are we to judge what people like to read?! Those mommies probably need to escape to somewhere that has Fire and Passion, so I say good for them (and also, gaaaack, SO not my taste). But anyway, I'm Literary, isn't that nice? I guess it's good he took note of me, because I will be spending lots of time and $138 free dollars in there.
--Ginger the Neighbor Dog (who is forced to live outdoors, poor thing) has Not Stopped Barking for the past hour. This is Not one of the nice things about Working From Home.
--Only 12 days until the U2 concert, and we Have Procured a Babysitter. Score.
Edited to add: I have nowedited revised this post approximately 11 12 times and I declare it's time to Stop. That is all.
Not to worry, there is no actual poo-poo in this story, it's just that AJ has taken to talking about it. It's very funny. It usually occurs as he wakes up -- he blinks a few times and then lets us know a Very Important Thing: "Pew-pew?" Like a question, but also a statement. He screws up his face and works his little mouth around the new words, and he's really TRYING to communicate. It is SO. CUTE. The weird part is that there usually isn't, in fact, any poo-poo. But he's patting his bottom, so he evidently knows that of which he speaks... or at least, where it lives... It makes me laugh and then frightens me a little. Is this a sign he's on the advanced track toward Potty Training? I know he's not ready yet, but 18 months is supposedly when you can start thinking about it, and that's not very far away. And he's also showing lots of interest in flushing the potty lately. He doesn't so much care what's in it, but today he did look at the empty, clean potty, and say, "Pew-pew?" Yes, honey, that's where poo-poo goes. (MY LORD, is this what it has come to?? ...Yes, yes, I guess it is... This is Real Life Mit Toddler. Enjoy!) Next thing you know I'll have to buy that red book. You know, the one my sister and I used to giggle about mightily when we were 8 and 10, because we were born in the era BEFORE that book and it seemed so utterly nonsensical. I have to admit, I fear Potty Training a little bit.
*pause while I consider the fear*
Moving on!
--I'm coveting. I want new Clothes and new Stuff, including the Most Adorable Quilted Christmas Stockings from Pottery Barn Kids (I'm going to order 4 and leave one without a monogram for -- gasp! -- a future child! So we will all match, someday. Is that crazy? I'm sure it's asking for trouble but I Have to order it, don't I?) Pottery Barn Kids, why do you mock me so? I'd like something on every page, please. Well, except the Very Pretentious Decorator Kids' Rooms. Those are a bit out of control with their matching painted wood drawers and handy-but-stylish monogrammed cubby baskets, and little retro multiplication flash cards pinned to a cork board, and smart blue gingham valances. Sigh. I love these rooms but I just don't think they're very realistic. At least not in my reality. My reality seems to be a lot more plastic than Pottery Barn's.
--After 2 weeks "off," I got up to workout this morning with my pal, Gilad. That man is out of his gourd and mostly creepy. I wouldn't want to be one of his minions-in-leotards, pumping and kicking and Smiling behind him. Blech. But he does a pretty kickass workout. My body is headed toward sculpture-dom, woo hoo!
--I now have $138.42 in credit at the Book Nook. (Local used bookstore.) I LOVE me a good local used bookstore. Didn't have time or energy to fight AJ and really browse today, so we came home with a Barney Little Golden Book and a Baby Mickey something kind of book. He is in love with both of them. But, $138!! When am I going to find time to read that many books?! Who knows. But it's a nice feeling, anyway. Something for FREE! And I got rid of the books that had been sitting in my coat closet these past 16 months. They were going to be a "while on maternity leave" project. Ahem.
Ooh, and the book clerk gave me a sorta backhanded compliment while checking my trade-ins. He said, "Did you read all these books? Because they're all pretty.... literary. Usually when we see Moms come in with kids..." and I knew he was going to say something rude about my fellow mommies and Romance novels, so I Laughed Politely to stop the comment before it happened. Because who are we to judge what people like to read?! Those mommies probably need to escape to somewhere that has Fire and Passion, so I say good for them (and also, gaaaack, SO not my taste). But anyway, I'm Literary, isn't that nice? I guess it's good he took note of me, because I will be spending lots of time and $138 free dollars in there.
--Ginger the Neighbor Dog (who is forced to live outdoors, poor thing) has Not Stopped Barking for the past hour. This is Not one of the nice things about Working From Home.
--Only 12 days until the U2 concert, and we Have Procured a Babysitter. Score.
Edited to add: I have now
Thursday, November 3
You're older than you've ever been
Where have I been? I've been lost in my own mind. Thinking a lot lately, mostly about politics. Mostly because I listen to NPR on both commutes, which can be fun, but also tires the mind out after a while. Indictments and Appointments and filibusters and global health... whew! I'm tired just writing all that.
I got stuck on NPR mostly because the radio sucks for music these days and I'm not kidding. I love classical music anyway, so that's a bonus. I think I'm destined to become an old fuddy-duddy though, because currently it's either NPR or AM 1160, which is "the voice of the arts in Atlanta." (They play a mix of Broadway and Sinatra and classical. Sometimes they throw a few oldies -- too many for my liking, really -- I mean, would you put the Shirelles in the same playlist as Bach or Leonard Bernstein? I THINK NOT. But on the whole, it's a much, much more palatable mix than the Alternative station, the "non-station" station, the Soft Hits station, or the Christian station, all of which I am just barely able to tolerate anymore for various reasons.)
At any rate, I've decided it's high time for me to embrace adulthood. (Hi, I'm 31.) As AJ gets older he'll need a Mommy who is informed, opinionated, and organized -- mostly organized -- and those are things I am currently Not. So, I'm developing Opinions about things. I'm reading some political blogs. (I'm not telling which ones, are you crazy? I don't do confrontation. Not even now, With Opinions. But I will tell you it took me for-freakin-ever to dig through all the EXTREMISTS before I found what I was looking for. Sheesh, there are some Wackos out there.)
Monday, Husband and I refinanced our mortgage after a month of planning and waiting for the closing date. I feel very smart about that, and even though we didn't save an Enormous Bundle on our monthly payment, we knocked our interest rate down a good bit and got out from under PMI, so that's all good. (See? Only Real Grown-Ups use acronyms like PMI.) Next on my list is to reevaluate our 401k plans and make sure we're invested in all the right things, then set up AJ's 529 for college savings, which should have been done a year ago. And, oh yeah, to contribute to it. (Ha! Contribute what, I'm not too sure.) And then: To Organize.
I use a Palm, but since AJ's birth I have not been very good about keeping up with it. But I have declared it is to become The Master Calendar, and I will be the Calendar Keeper. The Social Secretary. The Family Manager. I will know who has a soccer game and who has an orthodontist appointment, because by the time we get to THOSE kinds of commitments, I'll be an old pro. And I'll also be OLD by that time, so it's good that I'll have all these adult habits broken in.
I got stuck on NPR mostly because the radio sucks for music these days and I'm not kidding. I love classical music anyway, so that's a bonus. I think I'm destined to become an old fuddy-duddy though, because currently it's either NPR or AM 1160, which is "the voice of the arts in Atlanta." (They play a mix of Broadway and Sinatra and classical. Sometimes they throw a few oldies -- too many for my liking, really -- I mean, would you put the Shirelles in the same playlist as Bach or Leonard Bernstein? I THINK NOT. But on the whole, it's a much, much more palatable mix than the Alternative station, the "non-station" station, the Soft Hits station, or the Christian station, all of which I am just barely able to tolerate anymore for various reasons.)
At any rate, I've decided it's high time for me to embrace adulthood. (Hi, I'm 31.) As AJ gets older he'll need a Mommy who is informed, opinionated, and organized -- mostly organized -- and those are things I am currently Not. So, I'm developing Opinions about things. I'm reading some political blogs. (I'm not telling which ones, are you crazy? I don't do confrontation. Not even now, With Opinions. But I will tell you it took me for-freakin-ever to dig through all the EXTREMISTS before I found what I was looking for. Sheesh, there are some Wackos out there.)
Monday, Husband and I refinanced our mortgage after a month of planning and waiting for the closing date. I feel very smart about that, and even though we didn't save an Enormous Bundle on our monthly payment, we knocked our interest rate down a good bit and got out from under PMI, so that's all good. (See? Only Real Grown-Ups use acronyms like PMI.) Next on my list is to reevaluate our 401k plans and make sure we're invested in all the right things, then set up AJ's 529 for college savings, which should have been done a year ago. And, oh yeah, to contribute to it. (Ha! Contribute what, I'm not too sure.) And then: To Organize.
I use a Palm, but since AJ's birth I have not been very good about keeping up with it. But I have declared it is to become The Master Calendar, and I will be the Calendar Keeper. The Social Secretary. The Family Manager. I will know who has a soccer game and who has an orthodontist appointment, because by the time we get to THOSE kinds of commitments, I'll be an old pro. And I'll also be OLD by that time, so it's good that I'll have all these adult habits broken in.
Tuesday, November 1
Here is cute
Oh, but we had fun! The whole neighborhood was out -- it was a huge, friendly party in the streets. Someone even had the fire department bring a truck out, and lots of the big kids were riding on the back while the fireman blew the horn a few times (not spooky, but it defnitely scared the pants off me a couple of times)! I was so glad we were a part of the festivities. AJ seemed to have fun... and he scored us some sweet candy, yo! Because you know I'm not letting HIM eat Nerds and Twizzlers. He's only ONE. And he eats only the healthiest of health foods. You know.
We did give him a lollipop when we got home since he was such a good puppy. (Made him shake and roll over first.) I think he was pleased:
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