Updates

In 2 days, AJ will be 20 months old. I simply cannot believe this. That's nearly TWO!! Lordymercy, where does the time go??? I really, really can't believe it. Did I say that already?

He is doing the most marvelous things. He's putting sentences together now. Little ones, like "Read, Mama." or "Barney, nay?" which means, "Barney next?" One of my favorites, and I think his first, was "Move, Mama." He says that all the time to the dog. "Move, Buddy." It's so cute. Also, "Hey, Dada." (never "hi"). "Tank Ooo." and of course, "La-loo." We bought a recording device to use with the iPod and I hope to have snippets to post here soon. I can't tell you how fun I think the tapes of me and Sis are, that my Dad recorded on cassette lo these many years ago. Video is great, and we're doing those too, but only having the audio? Requires you to imagine and remember.

Yesterday for the first time, after seeing his 2-year-old friend Kelsey do it, AJ tried jumping. His feet aren't leaving the ground yet, but I was thrilled that he tried. :) "Jump! Jump!" he said. It was like he was commanding his feet how to do it.

As for other motor skillz, AJ is ON IT. He can now climb onto the couch without aid of his little red stool, and even though he sometimes teeters right on the edge as he gets up to STAND on the couch, making my heart race with the anticipation of a Nestea plunge onto the hardwood, he ususally makes it just fine and then runs from one side to the other, perfectly balanced and FINE even though the surface is lumpy. When we're outside, he's figured out that it's fun to RUN downhill. Again, I wince when he does it and prepare myself for a trip to the ER, but the joy on his face almost makes up for the heart attacks. His immediate request, when he falls, is for me to kiss it (although, no matter what hurts, he offers his LIPS to get kissed), and then he asks for "Ice?" Ahhhh, I love it. I always remind him that I will ALWAYS & FOREVER kiss his booboos.

He's stepping down the stairs now. Step. Step. Step. He recites it as he goes. Sometimes he wants to hold my hand, and sometimes both hands: "Bohf, Hay, Mama." And sometimes he wants to do it all by himself.

He loves to jump and seat-drop and generally participate in what our grandmothers called HORSE-PLAY, on any mattress-like surface he can find. DH throws him like a sack of potatoes into our pile-up of pillows. And AJ loves it. I think boys and their Daddies should wrestle and rough-house like that. It's so fun to watch. I'm hoping that our indulgence of AJ's frequent "Bed?" request won't result in him thinking Beds Are For Jumping On, but.... hey, I jumped on beds 'til I was too big for it (which I determined wasn't until approximately age 14). After I'd been in gymnastics for a couple years, I figured it was good for me to practice the back handsprings I'd learned... on my Sealy Posturpedic trampoline. (Sorry, Mom.) Thankfully, I never broke a bone.

I just read some archive posts from March of last year. I have to say that I'm very thankful we haven't been sick this winter. I told DH last night, after a quick Clorox wipes ad, "We can't get sick. Don't get sick. We have to use Clorox wipes." He looked at me like I was crazy. I can't blame him, we had been talking about oh, I don't know, ice cream before I went on the tangent.

We have a new favorite show -- Jay Jay the Jet Plane. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing but I gotta tell you, those planes are creepy looking IMHO. And on the TV-watching, I'm getting frustrated with the constant arguments I have to have when AJ wants it ON and I want it OFF. This is why people get rid of their TVs -- it's much easier to just not have one. But I'm remaining determined -- ONE show per day after school. That is it. No more questions, young man.

That's it on the update. AJ, I love you love you love you. I wish I wrote more eloquent love letters like all the other mommy-bloggers but, meh. Not every month.

Home-caring update: I got a new comforter for my guest room! Yippie! It wasn't expensive, and probably won't last long, but it looks infinitely better than the more-than-10-years-old Laura Ashley duvet cover that Napoleon's been sleeping on these 5 years! Ewww! And I threw out the down comforter, too. It was nastomatic. When Mom and Dad come to visit this weekend, they will have brand-new sheets to sleep between. Also need a lamp and a mirror, then that room will make me happy.

...Except its closet, which houses all my Lenox wedding china in storage bags. I saw them there this morning, so sad and packed-away, and it make me want a china cabinet REAL BAD. I just can't find the right thing in the right price range. Hmph. Might have to do some online shopping here in a minute. (yeah, ahem, working)

Monday's Wash Day! Therefore, Red Beans and Rice for dinner tonight. Yum. Hooray for Cajun heritage!

More frivolity

Why am I so addicted to these things lately??

This is a good one. :) From Arwen's archives.

1. Your name spelled backwards.
Eel. Isn't that lovely.

2. Where were your parents born?
Mom, Dallas TX, Dad, Oklahoma City, OK.

3. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer?
A .gif that's work-related -- sample of a masthead/banner for one of my clients.

4. What is your favorite restaurant?
Of all time? It's much too hard to pick! You could take me any time, any day to Taqueria del Sol, or Mick's. Those probably are the top two. But Altanta's full of fantastic restaurants.

5. Last time you swam in a pool?
Gosh, I don't even know! Probably sometime in July or August '05, at our friend J's house.

6. Have you ever been in a school play?
One school play in high school (3 one-acts, actually), something from our Lit. book in the 6th grade (about martians finding a book of Mother Goose poems -- I was a green martian with a paper maiche head!), and probably some Christmas pageants. I did lots of community theater, too!

7. How many kids do you want?
Two. (Don't want to be outnumbered!) Although I'd kinda like to be pregnant more times than that, based on my first experience. I LOVED being pregnant.

8. Type of music you dislike most?
Gangsta rap.

9. Are you registered to vote?
Yes. But I don't like voting. I do it because as an educated, intelligent person -- well, heck, even if I was stupid, just as a citizen -- I feel obligated to.

10. Do you have cable?
Heck, yes. We love basic cable and DVR. We don't have premium channels, though, like HBO or Showtime. Which makes us very virtuous indeed.

11. Have you ever ridden on a moped?
Don't think so.

12. Ever prank call anybody?
Yeah, when we were little. 11 and under, I think.

13. Ever get a parking ticket?
Yes, on Tybee Island once.

14. Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving?
Sky diving if it's a choice. Neither one if that's how the question is posed.

15. Farthest place you ever traveled.
Japan, I already said that the other day. We went to visit larry and family!

16. Do you have a garden?
I can barely keep houseplants alive.

17. Whats your favorite comic strip?
The late, still-mourned "Calvin & Hobbes."

18. Do you really know all the words to your national anthem?
Yes, of course. Verse 1, I mean. Are there any other verses?

19. Best movie you've seen in the past month?
Movie? What's that?

20. Favorite pizza topping?
Pepperoni & pineapple. Or basil and tomato. Too hard to pick one.

21. Chips or popcorn?
Chips. Chips, chips, chips!

22. What color lipstick do you usually wear?
It's called "mocha freeze."

23. Have you ever smoked peanut shells?
Whahuh?

24. Have you ever been in a beauty pageant?
"IT'S A SCHOLARSHIP PROGRAM!" Heh, heh. Junior Miss. When I was in h.s. It was fun, admittedly. Mostly because there was no swimsuit competition.

25. Orange Juice or apple?
I'd have to say orange. That's the Florida in me.

26. Who was the last person you went out to dinner with and where did you dine?
DH and AJ. We went to Applebee's last Sunday night and used a gift card we'd gotten for Xmas.

27. Favorite type chocolate bar?
Whatchamacalit. Or Reeces.

28. When was the last time you voted at the polls?
November 2, 2004.

29. Last time you ate a homegrown tomato?
No idea.

30. Have you ever won a trophy?
Yes.

31. Are you a good cook?
I'm pretty decent. I make a mess when I cook, which makes me SEEM much better than I am! Last night I made shrimp fra diavolo, for the first time, and it was Awesome. I am very proud of myself.

32. Do you know how to pump your own gas?
Who doesn't?

33. Ever order an article from an infomercial?
Good heavens, no.

34. Sprite or 7-up?
Sprite.

35. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to work?
Nope.

36. Last thing you bought at a pharmacy?
DH's meds.

37. Ever throw up in public?
Unfortunately, a couple times, yes. I'd prefer to forget that.

38. Would you prefer being a millionaire or find true love?
That is a stupid question. Love wins. Love conquers all. Would a little cash be nice? Yeeeeesssss.

39. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Mmm, kinda.

40. Ever call a 1-900 number?
No.

41. Can exes be friends?
Some people can. I'm not very good at that. Not because I can't forgive, I just always feel the need to make a clean break and move on.

42. Who was the last person you visited in a hospital?
Myself? I guess before that it was April, when she had Oliver. I didn't get to visit my Dad when he had his heart surgery. :( Guilt, guilt, guilt!

43. Did you have a lot of hair when you were a baby?
Just the usual amount. (why? Are we asking this?)

44. What message is on your answering machine?
"You have reached 7xx-xxx-xxxx. We can't take your call now but leave a message and we'll call you right back."

45. What's your all time favorite Saturday Night Live Character?
The Gap girls. Chris and Adam and David -- it doesn’t get any better than that.

46. What was the name of your first pet?
Missy. (cat)

47. What is in your purse?
A whole bunch of crap. Even though I cleaned it out yesterday! Wallet, lipsticks (2), chapsticks (2), powder, essentials, business cards, photos, keys, phone, a spa gift certificate, palm pilot, gum, a check I need to deposit…

48. Favorite thing to do before bedtime?
Eat ice cream. :)

49. What is one thing you are grateful for today?
Oh, it's too hard to pick one, but I'm grateful for a lunch invite from my friend, A. Yippie!

A Small Study in HCI

That's Human-Computer Interaction, for those of us without engineering degrees

I've discovered an interesting thing. Yahoo! mail, as many email clients, separates obvious spam into a "bulk mail" folder so that I don't have to see the words p*n-s or bo0b!es in my holy personal Inbox. I appreciate that from Yahoo!.

However, I also can't STAND to have unread mail, sitting there in bold type looking at me expectantly. So I often go into the bulk mail folder to clean it out. What I realized this morning is that I have a real aversion to "touching" the yucky pervy (or otherwise spammy) emails, even with the arrow that my mouse controls! Instead, I'd rather hit "Check all" and let the program do the touching, even if there's only ONE message, so I won't have to get germs from the possible virus that the unknown sender is trying to send me. !! Isn't that funny?! And I work on a Mac! We don't even GET viruses!

Where's my Lysol?

A Challenge!

Gerah recently revealed that she likes Play-Doh as much as I do. The smell delights her, despite her being more hormonally prone to smell-induced nausea than usual, these days. It delights me, too. I don't think we ever had Play-Doh at our house (smart woman, my mother), but at play-school, which is what we called it instead of preschool, we had TONS of the stuff. The sweet smell takes me right back to First United Methodist, and the green walls and sunny windows of our little classroom. (I was only 3 or 4 but I actually do remember that place very vividly. Interesting.)

ANYWAY -- Gerah said she makes a pretty mean play-doh elephant, and I want to see it. Because I have become especially adept at making elephants for AJ. When he calls for his playdoh, Little Lord Fauntleroy says "elephant" in the same breath. So I get busy making squatty elephant legs First Thing and I have to tell you, Girl Has Got a Talent.

I do not mean this as any sort of real Contest (being shy and non-confrontational and non-competitive, as I am), BUT! If Gerah is so great at elephants, it is time for an Elephant-Off! Let's see the goods, lady. Tee hee.

Here is mine, complete with tail. I only wish I could get him to hold his head up. Sit up straight, elephant! Don't slouch! This is your big moment:



Ha ha. Just kidding. For reals this time:




What do y'all think??

Edited to add: And if anyone else wants to play, get out your doh! Post a link in comments. Fun!

Lent stuff

Ooh, today's psalm is a good one. At least, for me it is. I think Lent may be just what I need right now. I could use several of these phrases:

Ps 51:3-4, 5-6ab, 12-13, 14 and 17

R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.
Have mercy on me, O God, in your goodness;
in the greatness of your compassion wipe out my offense.
Thoroughly wash me from my guilt ...(my guilt over being/working away from home isn't quite what the psalmist means I'm sure, but I'd like to be washed of it)
and of my sin cleanse me.

R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.
For I acknowledge my offense, ...(self-centered-ness, self-focus)
and my sin is before me always:
“Against you only have I sinned,
and done what is evil in your sight.”

R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.
A clean heart create for me, O God,
and a steadfast spirit renew within me. ...yes, please!
Cast me not out from your presence,
and your Holy Spirit take not from me.

R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.
Give me back the joy of your salvation,
and a willing spirit sustain in me.
O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.

R. Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.


Also, I'm giving up Starbuck's. I KNOW. Ouch. :)

Living inside my head

I'm developing a theory that the reason kids are all screamy during their ones and twos is less because they're trying to become independent, and more because they are IN PAIN. Poor AJ has four molars pushing through, one in each quadrant of his mouth. His tantrums had decreased significantly last week and over the weekend, but all of sudden the last 2 nights Jekyl returned and we've had nothing but fits from dinner (which he also doesn't eat, even when it's chicken which he loves, probably because it hurts)... 'til bedtime. It's exhausting. It's got to be relative to mouth pain. I know that I'm a b-i-t-c-h when I've had mouth surgery or a big trip to the dentist -- it makes my whole head hurt. So I can't imagine it'd be much different for a kid.

Other than that, I'm all self-focused and think-y in my head lately. Nothing coherent that I'm ready to share, but there hasn't been much mental energy left for intelligent blogging, so here's this, to fill up the space. A Classic "Getting To Know Your Friends" email. You'll love it.

1. Legal First name?
Lee

2. Were you named after anyone? Maternal grandmother
and grandfather both had Lee in their names, as does
my mother

3. Do you wish on stars?
Absolutely, on the first one if I see it

4. When did you last cry?
Friday afternoon, no wait, Sunday morning during a
particularly moving hymn

5. What is your favorite lunch meat?
*embarrassed to say this* bologna

6. What is your birth date?
Jun 4

7. What is your most embarrassing CD?
I had a friend go to the trouble of downloading all of
Britney's songs and burning me a CD, back in the early
days of Napster.

8. If you were another person, would YOU be friends
with you? Heh. Good question. I guess I would but I
sure wish I'd call myself more often.

9. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Heh. Guess.

10. What are your nicknames?
Honey, Lee-Bee

11. Would you bungee jump?
No way no how

12. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
sometimes

13. Do you think that you are strong? Not very.

14. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? I say coffee ice
cream every time.

15. Shoe Size?
6 1/2

16. Red or pink?
Red

17. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?
I have crazy guilt issues and I'm lazy about important
things like taxes and home "business" stuff.

18. Who do you miss most? Depends on the day. I miss
family, friends, Granny, AJ (while I'm at work)

19. Do you want everyone you send this to, to send it
back? No, but if anyone wants to play, feel free!

20. What color pants/skirt and shoes are you now
wearing?
khaki skirt, black shoes

21. What are you listening to right now?
iPod! Bela Fleck playing Paganini's "Allegro Vivace"
on the banjo

22. What did you eat for breakfast?
(this was yesterday - today i'm not having b'fast, Ash Wednesday fast and all)
Mocha-cappucino smoothie, YUM. Made
it myself!

23. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Lavender. I told someone this the other day -- it's
indecisive. Is it pink or is it purple? That's me.

24. What is the weather like right now?
Clear, crisp, and in the 60s. Yum.

25. Last person you talked to on the phone?
best friend "larry," last night

26. What is the first thing you notice about the
opposite sex?
Hair, eyes

27. Do you like the person who sent this to you?
Yes! She is one of my very first friends. :)

28. Favorite Drink?
Coca Cola

29. Hair Color?
Brown (and some grays! Damnit!)

30. Do you wear contacts?
nope

31. Favorite Food?
Pizza? Mexican? Too difficult to decide.

32. Last Movie You Watched?
Lord only knows�. oh yeah, I think it was "White
Chicks" on Encore. Ugh. Husband had it on. *embarrassed, once again!*

34. Scary Movies or Happy Endings?
Happy Endings

35. Summer or winter?
Fall

36. Hugs OR Kisses?
Hugs

37. What Is Your Favorite Dessert?
the real gooey, thick, fudgey chocolate cakes

38. Who Is Most Likely To Respond?
oh, I don't know. Beansy already did in email, so I guess she wins

39. Who Is Least Likely To Respond?
eveyrone else

40. Living Arrangements?
House. 3br 2.5ba -- with DH, AJ and Napoleon, of
course.

What Books Are You Reading?
Just finished "Secret Life of Bees!" Need to start something. Maybe Harry Potter 6?

42. What's On Your Mouse Pad?
No mouse pads here

43. What Did You Watch on TV last night? Season premiere of The Amazing Race!

44. Favorite Smells?
DH's t-shirts just out of the laundry, AJ's breath, Christmas tree smell...

45. Favorite junk food?
Chips and salsa

46. Rolling Stones or Beatles?
OMG, Beatles. I Hhhhhhhhate the R. Stones!

47. What's the farthest you've been from home?
Japan

Word cloud

Hat-tip to Melessa for showing me this. Check out my "word cloud." I thought it was fairly accurate -- supposedly it goes into your URL and picks out the most-often used words. I added "ridiculous," which seems like it needs to be there -- but overall it captures the right concepts. I love that it scanned to find both "poo" and "poop." :) Hee hee. You can get one, too, here.

What inspires me?

Instead of my usual, I thought I could use a shot of Happy today, and after reading the beautiful lists of inspiration by Madame Rubies and Tiff, *I* was inspired!

First off, the word that caught my attention in Heather's post, the thing that inspires her, that jolted me to attention, was "Stillness." I have to borrow that. Stillness, without a doubt, inspires me. I just wish there were more of it in my life! For me, though, to really be inspired, I'd have to add solitude. Stillness, with others... well, I'm not sure I've ever really experienced that! I think stillness begs for solitude, and I love them as a pair.

Studying music inspires me. Not just listening, which can be inspirational, but when I've studied a piece intimately, and have been taught the why and wherefore of each note and each marking, it becomes infinitely more beautiful -- especially when it's then played/sung/performed perfectly. By me, or otherwise. Just yesterday I heard either the 2nd or 3rd movement of Beethoven's 5th on the classical radio station -- one phrase in particular reminded me of when I'd studied it in a music lit class in college, and I smiled. Ravel's Bolero inspires me every time I hear it and I hate to leave before it's finished. (Also, to continue music-geeking-out for a moment here, gorgeous suspensions, and dissonances that then resolve into harmonies -- Yeah.)

Watching AJ's face while he's asleep. Getting right up close to it so I can breathe his breath. Even better? Holding him while he sleeps. Heaven.

Driving with the windows down in spring. I especially like doing this at night, on nights when I'm returning from church, and I drive through the National Park near my house. It's very dark back there, and that cool, dark wind gives me a rush of happy.

Beautiful, descriptive, intelligent writing inspires me. Reading it, I mean. There's nothing like good writing.

Lives of unshakable, quiet faith in God's plan.

Holding hands and walking slowly.

Deep breaths of sunny morning.

Alright, dude!

This weekend marked a pretty big milestone in AJ's highway of life -- specifically, his speech development -- he learned to say "DUUUUUUUDE." As if that wasn't awesome enough, he also put it together with "Awwwww-iiiiiiiight," to make "Awight, dooooo!" DH and I cracked up and tried to find every reason we could think of to get him to say it again. :) In family lore, one of the first things I said to DH when we met was something that ended with "dude," and he thought it was dreamy. A girl who says "dude." So you see the significance of this moment for us.

** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

Tip: Next time you go to an event like the circus in downtown Atlanta, on a weekend, try to pick a weekend when downtown isn't ALSO being used by thousands of glitter-makeup-y young cheerleaders at the "National Cheer & Dance Competition" and THIRDLY occupied by gazillions of stlyists attending the "Some Such or Other National HAIR SHOW." It will be too crowded downtown with shuttle buses and crazies. And you'll end up having to jump out of the car, 18 minutes before curtain, with your toddler in arms, leaving your husband to fend for himself with the parking hawkers, and hoof it across 5 blocks of stand-still traffic in sketchy downtown, up 2 flights of stairs, around the corner to the arena entrance, up 2 escalators (still holding your toddler, mind you, so you don't lose him!), then down the stairs (while your unsteady legs are shaking after all that, what was that? Exercise??) to your seat. And then you might not even be in the right seats. Oh yeah, and it will be raining and 29 degrees.

But you'll enjoy the circus just the same. (AJ, too.) You'll thank me for this tip later, I promise. One last thing, be sure to bring Fruit Loops. (Thankfully, we did.)

** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

DUUUUUUUDE!

** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

It would be nice if a certain work colleague would RETURN my email about a certain thing I asked him on THURSDAY. Instead he's going to wait until our Tuesday meeting when he can discuss the thing with me in front of everybody and make me feel foolish, which he does just about every time I bring these things to him. Certain W. Rrrr.

** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *

You'd never believe me if I told you about the drama going on in my church choir. It's not about music, even, it's about 1 person's attempt to overthrow the director. Notice I said CHURCH choir. We wouldn't even know each other if it weren't for JESUS and LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR and FORGIVENESS and all that jazz. One phrase alone, which was spoken BY A GROWN WOMAN this past weekend -- a grown woman who has 3 teenage daughters, you understand (hello, role model) -- should be enough to explain to you the gravity stupidity of the entire thing:

Ready?



Wait for it...



"....I thought you were my Friend!"


Did you hear that thud? That was my jaw hitting the floor. Probably in shock after not hearing those words SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. It is SUPER ridiculous around here, folks. Super. Ridiculous. I'm embarrassed that I even had to witness it. Thank GOD I wasn't a central part of it. Sunday morning was all hasty phone calls and "did she call you, too?" and "are you going?" and "I can't believe..." it is just a bunch of crap.

It required me to go shopping all afternoon yesterday, to rid my mind of it. :)

Granny

It surprises me how much my Granny comes into my head since having AJ. Last night while I was putting him to bed, it happened again -- I was singing one of her lullabies and I just got teary. Some days I miss her so much, and I wish she was here to know MY little boy. She had four of them, and I think that's why, maybe, I feel an even stronger bond to her now, as opposed to before AJ. On my other side, my Mom has 2 girls, me and Sis. Her Mom, my Grandmother, has 2 girls. But Granny, she had BOYS, and by the stories she told, they were the boy-est epitome of boyhood. Living on a farm, it's not hard to imagine that: skinned knees, torn jeans, muddy shoes, sticks and snails and firecrackers and rocks.

Maybe it got to me last night because yesterday AJ and I spent a good long while outside, in the 70-degree weather. (Snow on Monday, summer by Thursday -- this is Georgia winter.) Starting with his dirt-stained corduroys from when he played outside at daycare, it was the perfect scene: he walked the perimeter gathering sticks ("tcks"), played in the rock garden ("rie"), fell a small way (on purpose) into a muddy hole, tried to eat some dog poo, and did not want to come inside. :) I just ADORE the "little boy" in him. I want to squeeze it out and drink it. He loves to send Polie away and then call him back, loudly, "Budd-ee!" He's practicing "clicking" his tongue against his back teeth like we do, to call the dog, and getting pretty good at it. He loves to swing, but always stops to look up at the sky if he hears an airplane ("ay-bee"), and if THAT FACT, in my family, doesn't say BOY, then nothing does. Of the four boys of Granny's, three are or were pilots, and two of her grandsons, as well.

Fitting, then, that Granny's song asks the "Angels, dear, [to] hover near, watch o'er my darling boy tonight." Hovering. Like flying. So I always pray that she's one of the angels hovering at AJ's window. When she used to sing it to us, she had to say "Watch o'er my darling girls tonight," but I thought last night how strange that way feels in my mouth -- and how strange it must have felt to her, the first time she sang it that way.

Watch me, I'm healthy and virtuous!

Just saw this on the bottom of the bag of baby spinach that was part of my lunch salad: "5 A Day, The Color Way (TM)." With a little rainbow picture. Hunh, I thought to myself. Pretty ingenious, that.

Might have to contemplate further.

Brown... chocolate ice cream... wait, no.

Recently added

Can I tell you how much I love my iPod? A LOT. Right now I'm adding Cave In, the whole "Antenna" album. A minute ago I was adding several songs from The Church, hubby's favorite band of all time. (Who've kinda grown on me, too.) I can't wait to recreate a mix CD -- now a "playlist" -- that he made for me back when we were dating. :) In a minute, I've got John Denver's Greatest Hits to add. Hee hee. I have lived my entire life listening to that album and couldn't live without it, I don't think. A week ago I downloaded "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head." That's Burt Bacharach, people, and I LIKE it! And later I'll be adding some Foo Fighters, some Dixie Chicks, some 10,000 Maniacs... it's just fun to gather up all of my very favorite music.

I should get to work, of course.

I'm reading Jodi Piccoult's "My Sister's Keeper." It's a hard one to swallow, because it illustrates in great detail my greatest fear. (Don't want to spoil it for you, but it's about a family who experiences something utterly lifechanging and tragic. There's a twist in this story that makes it even more heartbreaking for the mother. And of course, there's dysfunction.) But it's very well-written, and a nice change after some of the drivel I've read lately. It's at the point where I want to do nothing but read it 'til it's finished. Too bad.

Because I should get to work.

Guess what? We're going to the CIRCUS on Saturday! I'm so excited. I haven't been in years. I can't WAIT for AJ to see real live a-vees. He will freak out, in a good way I hope. I bet he'll notice when they poo-poo -- always a funny/awkward moment at the circus. You're watching them be amazing, stand on each others' backs, raising their trunks in all their circus-trick glory, and then in the back of the line, something not very pretty happens. You can't NOT see it. Heh. Such a let-down. They're supposed to be all magnificent, and then it turns out, they POOP. BIG poop. "Ewww," has become AJ's word for animal poo-poo, and he wouldn't know about that except Napoleon sometimes goes in just the wrong spot in the yard, and I have to warn AJ not to step in it. Which never helps -- I've spent more time digging poop out of the bottoms of his shoes than I ever could have imagined. This is something they definitely don't tell you about when you say "I'd like to have a baby." But I digress! The Circus! Will have clowns! And Tigers! And music and popcorn and balloons. I hope he'll be able to stand all the excitement. I'm just happy he'll be getting to do something fun -- a real, ticketed family activity. I've been wanting to do something like this forever -- the zoo, or the new GA Aquarium, or the Barney Live! show -- but we just haven't managed it yet. And little kids deserve treats like that once in a while, even if they're too young to remember them. My first memory of the circus is very, very faint, but I know my Granddaddy was there, and I got a little wallet with a lion on it, and we sat really close to the front, enough that the clowns came up to us at one point in the show. :) I was scared of them at the time, but it's such a warm, glowy memory that I don't mind anymore.

I got spaghetti

What did you get?

I got roses, too. Twenty-four of them. They smell divine. (Sometimes roses aren't at all fragrant until you get right up close to them -- but these smell yummy from 3 feet away. Score.)

The real gift was that Darling Husband came home from work, kissed the baby, clasped his hands together and said, "Now, what can I make you for dinner tonight, honey?"

I. Love. That. Man.

Of course in my self-defeatist way, I tried to martyr the situation and muttered, "Oh, you don't have to make me dinner... I was planning on..." but then I smacked myself in the head and realized what a big idiot mistake it would be to pass up this chance, so I finished with, "How about pasta?" and a big, grateful smile.

He made us a lovely meal: spaghetti and garlic toast. Carb-i-liscious. AJ had his tantrum for an appetizer, Time Out as sorbet, then strawberries, then cold spaghetti. But hey, he ate. And I got points for having made creme brulee the day before -- DH's favorite dessert. Our V-days may not be as sappy and starry-eyed as they once were, but the fact we both took the time to do these small things for each other means there is real-live love in our house, bouncing in and among the exhaustion and stress. So hooray for Love!

Time Out is working like a charm, by the way. I have no idea why we didn't implement this sooner, although I guess he really wasn't crying-to-get-his-way until now. But the minute I say in my Stern-Mommy voice, "AJ, do you need to go to Time Out?" he stops whatever he's doing and looks at me all deer-in-the-headlights-esque. It is good. I have Power! I am once again In Control!

The Special Box is working like a charm as well. Let me just tell you: Pick-Up Stix! The kid LOVES them. Take 'em out, put 'em in. Take 'em out, put 'em in. Hours of entertainment for a nineteen-month-old.

Gratitude journal

1 -- AJ and I had a wonderful weekend together while DH was out of town. We missed him, yes, but spent good quality time together. Despite the fact that we had to take the car in to be serviced, and AFTER having the tires rotated/balance, discovered a nail in one of them, and then had to take the car to the tire place... it was still a nice weekend, and here's why: taking a 2-hour nap together on a cold, gray day with a blankie and 4 pillows, on Mommy's cozy bed. Sigh. Nothing sweeter. (And, let's be honest, having the whole queen-size bed to myself 2 nights in a row wasn't too terrible, either. I like to spread out. That, and the nap? I got *really* good sleep this weekend.)

2 -- My friend Cantus, who picked us up from the dealer and took us to lunch and shopping for lipstick (AJ loved it! no, seriously, he did) while they changed the oil. It was soooo nice of her to come all the way out here to be with us.

3 -- Snow! Even though it only snowed a scoche (sp?), and there was blue sky peeking through the clouds as it came down, it was pretty and we managed to get bundled up and out the door in time to enjoy it for a minute. Like real winter! (I know my neighbors in New England are cursing the same snow right now.)

4 -- DH's return!

5 -- All the laundry at my house is done and the bathrooms are clean. You'd better believe I'm thankful for that!

I read too many parenting web sites

I think we're good parents, DH and me. We're gentle; we know that WE need to be in charge and not let AJ run the show; we stick to routines for him; we let him explore and discover; we remember the #1 thing is to love him... but I think we need to implement a definite team strategy for getting through this tantrum stage. Which I hear can last 'til he's 3, which... heaven help me.

By the way, I asked, and my Mom said *I* really never threw tantrums in my Terrible Twos. (I waited 'til I was 5.) So I blame all this on DH. It must come from his side.

My Ideas

• Plant a sippy cup with cool water in AJ's room before he wakes up (to head off the almost immediate JOOOOOOOSE! demands).
  
• Earlier to bed (8pm), earlier to rise (6:15-ish, to make our mornings less hurried -- so he has some time to wake up before he has to start getting dressed).
  
• MOMMY to get up earlier/finish getting ready by 6:15, so I can get him ready calmly instead of having to scoop him out of the crib, go dry my hair and let him sit on the vanity, help DH get him dressed, pull on my socks as I'm combing his hair, remember my deodorant at the last minute, hastily grab AJ's shoes before tripping downstairs, etc. We have previously been trying to get the kid up and dressed in approximately 20 minutes, which I realize now was RIDICULOUSLY ambitious just ridiculous, period.
  
• ROUTINE. Need to establish a predictable morning routine. Wake up. Want a drink of water? Change diaper/potty(?). Watch TV for a minute. Play for a minute in his room (prelude to getting dressed). Get dressed. Put on shoes. Go downstairs. Help feed Polie. Jacket on. etc. (I generally think we do this but it IS sometimes rushed which sort-of defeats the purpose.)
  
• CHOICES: AJ, would you like to change your diaper on Mommy's bed or the changing table? Would you like to take off/put on pants or shirt first? Would you like the lamp on or off? etc. Allllll the books and websites say this is how to do it. Give them some amount of control since all they want is to "do it MYSELF." As evidenced by my own parents using the strategy on me, it doesn't always work: they asked me every morning, "Milk or Juice?" and I pretty quickly figured out how to foul up their plan by responding, "Muckerjooose." Both, please. Heh.
  
• TIME OUT (?) -- If When he does go into tantrum-mode -- and people, just so you understand the magnitude, these are the writihing-on-the-floor, growling, hiccupping, unable-to-function-but-still-trying, and thus looking-like-a-drunken-gorilla kind of fits (!) visualize that! -- put him in his room, with the gate (so he can still see us)? Or maybe in his crib, while we stay in his room saying "I'm going to stay right here with you because I know you're upset." One minute time-outs. (From Dr. Sears: Time-outs should be 1 minute for every year of their age.) Or, like my friend MB says, "It's okay that you're crying, but we don't want to listen to it. So stay here until you're done crying. You can cry as much as you like." And then, 1-2...3-4 min later, "Are you all done crying?"
  
• For heading off his evening Episodes, I'm still going to try the "special box" idea for dinner-prep time. He only gets it when I'm making dinner. Don't know if it will work but I've put a can of Pick-Up Sticks (good for shaking and dumping, and putting back in), an old wallet with play money that he can open and close to his heart's content, some Elmo playing cards to scatter around, and a few other dollar-store items. I am also hiding the DVD boxes today because one of the things he fights for, when he sees them, is "TEEEE-DEEEEEEEEEeeeee."
  
• Finally, we've found that sometimes "holding therapy" works for him -- when he's really out of control, DH can hold him tight and talk to him quietly and walk around a bit, and sometimes he calms right down.

It's a crap-shoot. But as long as I'm shootin', I might as well have plenty of ammo.

One funny aside, and then I'll go: I dreamed last night that I was in a piano-playing exam of some sort, and I had not memorized my piece so I was cramming desperately with the sheet music right before going on-stage. Once I got up there I obviously hadn't practiced it AT ALL, and therefore I didn't pass my "test!" Ha! TESTING ME! Internalize, much?

bblllllahhhh.

This is just one of those days where I'd rather be doing anything than this. I want to be on a beach sipping a fruity drink. Or at the spa, getting my nails done. Or at Starbuck's, reading. Or, let's see... in a looooong yoga class. On a porch swing. At the movies.

I'm kinda missing Mr. Fussy-Pants, too. Despite his new name. The kid is making STATEMENTS about what he wants and doesn't want, sheesh! Tantrum City. Today's after-school activity is going to Walgreen's to buy some interesting new items to put in his special "only while Mommy makes dinner" shoebox. I wrapped it up real nicely so he'll get excited about it. In theory.

This is normal development this is normal this is normal. But... how to DEAL with it?! I'm developing a long list of battle strategies which I will share with you in my next post.

On the other hand, I'm extra-proud of him today because, drumroll please... he tinkled in the potty last night for the first time! How cool is that? *flicker, flicker* What's that? A light at the end of his diaper-pail??

Hand me the remote

Hey, the Grammys are on tonight. Usually this is the awards show I'm least interested in, but Sugarland is nominated again and I'm very excited for them. :) A real-life friend of mine has taken a job with the band (tour manager). That's zero (okay, it's) one degree of separation. I'm practically famous, myself!

Blogosphere question

Do any of you readers know which mommy-blogger out there is a guardian ad litem? I know I stumbled onto her site at one time, but can't remember or perform an effective search.

I'm trying to find out for a friend. (psst... hi, friend!)

Thanks in advance.

Hero worship

The other day I mentioned that Neil Armstrong is one of my heroes. He truly is, man. Walking on the MOON? That is some kind of cool. In fact, I find almost all things NASA quite fascinating and awe-inspiring, such as.... well, um, these are all Hollywood versions of NASA things, but... the movie Apollo 13. I could watch it a thousand times. (No, not because of Kevin Bacon, but he's a niiiiice bonus. Shut up.) But seriously, that mission, and the actual guys involved? Heroes. And The Right Stuff. And the recent anniversary of the 2 Mars Rovers who've survived about 9 times longer than they were designed to survive, and collected all sorts of valuable Mars information. I mean, we've designed robots that are exploring MARS, people! Is that not AMAZING? The delicacy with which these instruments had to LAND on Mars, alone, is a physics lesson big enough to explode my brain, never mind the fact that after landing, these things then began sniffing around a foreign planet, DISCOVERING things.

So really, any NASA engineer? Hero in my book.

I'm trying to think who are my other heroes. It's like a third-grade history lesson! Names like Sacagawea and Vasco de Gama and Honest Abe start trotting across my mind. No one ever talks about heroes anymore. My husband would say "Wolverine and Spiderman," of course, and my conscience tells me to say things like "Mother Teresa" and "Bono." I'll go all cliche and tell you "my parents," since they are very much heroic in the way they raised me and my sister. I just think they did it perfectly, with the right balance of strict and fair vs. fun and engaging. They didn't push us, we just WANTED to do right for them and make them proud. They treated us like people, not like children. I strive to emulate them more than anyone else.

I think today's American farmers are heroes. It's not an easy life for them and their work is some of the most noble, most honest work there is anymore. Because really, what is creating a website versus Growing Food?? Not comparable. (And I say that because *I* create websites for a living, so don't get offended.)

What about single moms? Yep, heroes. I constantly admire them from a distance -- hey, I actually don't know any single moms in real life. How weird is that? They blow my mind, though.

I guess I don't need a huge long list, but I was thinking about this today and wanted to share. I'll have to keep thinking.

Oh wait, I've got one: Mr. Juan Valdez. Thank God for his work in the coffee fields. And, ooh! ooh!... the person who invented Hamburger Helper. Now you know what we're having for dinner. And.... the Rubberband Man! He's just so happy. I should model my attitude after his! Nowwww we're cookin'...

Comfort me

in that paper-cut-lemon-juice kind of way:

From my friends at babycenter.com:

"7 Signs your Child Loves You:
....(3) Your toddler throws wicked tantrums. Nope,
those screaming fits don't mean he's stopped loving
you. He wouldn't be so hurt and angry if he didn't
trust you so deeply."

Gah. He loves me alright. So much that he almost made himself throw up Sunday, with the fits of LOVE.

I told him last night as I put him to bed that I'd love him through this phase of him fighting me, and if he fights me again when he is a teenager (for the toddler years are obviously similar to the adolescent ones in terms of child-independence issues)...sigh, I'll still love him then, too.

Isn't it fun?! Whee! Let's all have a party, our kids love us!

Gratitude journal

Today I am grateful for:

1. My best friend MB. We had a long talk yesterday on the phone which included tears and laughter, all rolled in to one lovely conversation, plus happy memories and future ideas. She understands me, more now than ever, and she is able to talk sense into me when I'm at my most non-sensical. Even sitting here at my desk, 753 miles away from her home in Texas, I have a Post-It note about one of my online passwords -- and it is indirectly relative to her. I'm so happy she's in my life.

2. Hope. In general.

3. Moe's Southwest Grill.

4. Pattie, at Kelly & Co. hair salon. She surprised me by actually being quite good and knowing exactly what I wanted.

5. Crayons, play-doh, lions/roarrrrrrs!, and elephants/a-veeeeees. :)

The most critical thing on today's list:

Haircut.

Yes, AJ has to stay in daycare a full hour beyond normal today so that I can go get pretty.

Sometimes it is so good that they will have no memory of this time in their lives.

Red-letter day

Happy Blogiversary to Me!

One full year since I put MySelf out there to be seen. My, how things do change. When I first discovered the 'sphere, I was devoted to my first blog-friend Miss Issues' daily offerings, and surfing St. Blog's big ol' Catholic list. Things are different now: Miss Issues went underground (and I miss her!), and my reading evolved. My description did, too. When I started, I defined myself thusly:

I'm a wife and mommy (three cheers for both)... a southern girl (minus the dramatic accent)... a cradle Catholic (but not a very good one)... an enthusiast for fine literature (but not someone who can quote it)... a 2nd soprano chorus girl (who'd love, just once, to have a solo)... a firm believer that things happen for a reason (I can back that up with stories)... and a journal-keeper since I was 9 years old.

Then I admitted this was much more mommy-blog than religion blog, and who am I, anyway, to associate myself with the good St. Bloggers who are so much more devoted than I am! ....and I got embarrassed for sayin' I cain't quote lit'rature in the same breath as saying I didn't have an accent. ;) So I edited:

I'm a wife and mommy, and love both roles... a southern girl, minus the dramatic accent... a cradle Catholic with somewhat of an ecumenical sensibility... a Book Club member who's slacked quite a bit since having a baby... a 2nd soprano chorus girl who'd love, just once, to have a solo... a firm believer that things happen for a reason... a journal-keeper since I was 9 years old

Then I stopped caring about being southern, really (I've never cared about it that much in the first place), and I started getting the solos in my little church choir... and I finally quit trying to have a definition. If I could be defined in 75 words or less, even I wouldn't want to know me. :) I'm a mystery, that's what. But still a journal-keeper. A diarist. A lover of memories. All this to say: This thing is for me, y'all. Years later I want to go back and remember this time in my life. (Here's a real question: Do any of you back up your blogs just in case? How?)

I stole this idea from someone else: As my blogiversary gift to you, I'm de-lurking my own first name. Hi, World, I'm.... Lee. el-e-e, I think we'll say, for creativity's sake and because I always end up spelling it when I give my name over the phone, or at the hostess stand at Applebee's. Plenty of friends have called me by name in the comments, anyway, and it's perfectly okay. There's something odd about wanting to remain anonymous when I share some of my innermost thoughts here. But there's still that Internet safety thing... so el-e-e. Call me whatever you like.

I had high hopes for my witty contributions to the information superhighway -- editorial comment on news and issues, inspired interpretations of my life's little moments, encounters with God in the everyday details... but most of those positions were brilliantly filled long before I got here. Lots of you write SO WELL. I'm in awe of you. I've learned from you, and determined that I'm quite the amateur. I'm okay with that. You're also SO FUNNY! How do you DO that? Is it the cursing? I suppose I could try that, but.... well, Mom's my most loyal reader, I'd better not. :) It's not me, anyway. But, sh*t! You guys crack me up. (see?) Mostly, I've learned that *all* of us parents, writers, employees, singletons, cooks, musicians, wives, students... are bumbling through it, some days. And that's quite comforting.

So I'm just journaling, trying to keep a handle on *my* humble thoughts and ideas. Taking steps toward knowing who I am. Like one of my heroes, Neil Armstrong, the walking is jumpy and glide-y and sometimes doesn't even touch ground.

It's very nice that some of you come by and read me. It makes my little heart go pitter-pat. Have a virtual cupcake, it's my birthday!

The heart of the matter

I feel like I'm always tryyyyying to post something very important, very thoughtful. I'm not, really, it's just that the times when I'm emotionally bent are the times when I most need to get it all down and talk through my fingers. But not everything is a heart-wrenching Issue: (In fact, I just read this funny note about what we, the Internets, write in our blogs. Anti-history, heh.) Here are some of the more mundane things going on at the MySelf household at this moment in time.

• I'm trying to drink more water today because I think my face looks, in general, like ash. (ha.) Seriously, ashy is the adjective of the day. It used to be the description of my highlights - "ash blond" - but now means something much less decorative and flattering. I look like I don't sleep enough. Fancy that... The gray in my face matches my current 'highlights,' which my Darling (DARLING) Husband continues to point out to me with a mirror and a wide-eyed expression. So, more water. Hopefully more glow. And next week: Hair appointment.
• This week's dinner menu: Taco Salad; crock-pot lasagna; spicy fried chicken (frozen) w/baked sweet potatoes, and.... a couple other things. I'm feeling better about my cooking -- was in a real wasteland there for a few months, having a cupboard full of recipes I decided I hated. But I've researched, and sent out one of those chain-letter recipe exchange emails, and resurrected some old ones too.
• Laundry continues to trip me up. I dried two of DH's polo shirts all the way today, instead of taking them out to air-dry after they've fluffed for about 15 minutes. (Why yes, this IS the definition of high-mai!)
• Actually, it isn't: we watched MTV's True Life last night and the episode was called "I have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder." These poor kids. Some really strange stuff going on there. What an affliction. I shouldn't joke about it anymore because those who live with it can truly be called sufferers. It was sad. One of the sufferers, a 23-year-old girl who was very aware that the rituals she did all the time (bending to touch the top stair every time she reached it, flipping light switches like mad, etc.) were unnecessary. She said she wasted so much time "tweaking out." I loved the expression in that context. Still, sad.
• AJ's fourth haircut this weekend went much the same as the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd ones. And by that I mean, Loudly and Stickily (lollipop-used-as-calming-device, not so bright). Besides that, the woman (new) nearly balded him. Oy. I am going to attempt Haircut The 5th my own self. Although, with his hair so short in the back, he looks even more like his Daddy which makes me GRIN. So cute, the two of them together.
• My only two living houseplants are finally dying. One of these plants, I have had since college. I am a killer of houseplants!
• We bought a potty seat and some step-stools this weekend at Crazies R Us. AJ likes his "Pooh & Friends" potty seat (yes, that's its real name), but he isn't so sure about sitting on it just yet. He'd rather wear it around his neck. :)

Revelations

...it's pronounced "meems?"

All along I've been saying "mehms." The French way, I suppose.

Shows how much I know.


* * * * * * * * * * * * *


Last night, upon putting AJ to bed thirty minutes ahead of schedule, I commented to Husband, "Man, I love that kid. But he is a PAIN when he is overtired. So grouchy!"

In return I got A Look.

Whhhhat? You think he gets it from ME? Surely Not.


;)

Spinning round and round

My little round pinwheel is spinning as I download the latest OSX upgrades from apple.com. How I love my Macs. Yesterday I was getting "POSIX error: connection reset by peer (54)" -- Peer 54, where are you? -- and today, after deleting three little .plist files, I'm back up and running, no more error. I love the .mac forums where I can get detailed fix-it instructions for all that ails me.

Sigh. If only that were true of all of life. Where can I find Mr. Steve Jobs' suggestion box?

I'm fretting about my friendships today. Had Book Club Tuesday night and... it wasn't very much fun. For starters, I had to drive all over God's Creation to find the hostess' house. Not that I'd want to BLAME her for being a complete ditz because I'm not catty like that, A-hem, but she gave me really bad directions: once, when she recited them to me, and twice when I repeated them back. Twice! I double-checked with her! She said turn LEFT when in fact, I needed to turn RIGHT, in 3 separate instances. What the...?? Thankfully I had the smarts to know those were errors, even though I'm clueless about her part of town and generally clueless in the geography department. I know she was getting ready to feed 6 hungry mommies while coralling her 3 young boys at the same time, so I forgive her, but it put me in a bad mood to start out with.

Then when the conversation went nowhere NEAR the book, and everywhere near SHOPPING to furnish and decorate my friends' NEW 5-br houses in the more expensive neighborhoods of our dear metro area? ...I just got depressed and sulky. Why am I hanging out with these rich women who have husbands who are partners in their law firms and who go cruising around the Greek isles in January? This is not my league. I can't possibly belong here.

I am not good at the shopping. I don't just go out and BUY things, on a whim. One friend explained her recent "perfect find:" a delicate wooden birdcage that she's going to fill with hydrangeas and ivy and place at the top of a cabinet. Sounds pretty. But the green-eyed monster in me reared back when she told the story, mad that she can just go out, so breezy, and "pick up" fun things whenever. I cannot. Purchases like that seem absolutely frivolous to me, even though we have money in the bank. I don't know why, but I'm like a parrot in my head, repeating, "We do not need that. Squawk. We do NOT need that."

One Saturday when my girlfriends and I were all pregnant, we went to the trendy area of town to have brunch and pedicures, and to shop. We browsed precious boutiques and saw expensive antique-y things, and some bargains too, to be fair. I came home with exactly 2 things: a scented candle (about $6) and a ceramic bluebird which I love (on sale for $15). I bought them just to say I'd bought something, and I felt extraordinarily guilty about them.

I am jealous that some girls just shop without the trouble of spending-guilt. They buy fun stuff and decorate their houses on a whim. Not to mention they'll just "run in" to Talbots or Macy's or wherever, when there's a sale on cute blouses. Let's not even talk about my fashion sense and lack of ability to buy nice new clothes. Or, let's do... I only let myself shop, really, when I have a gift card or I'm on vacation. Or at Target. I think the vacation thing is because we're not at home, so my self-imposed "rules" are relaxed. At Book Club Tuesday night, though, I started not to like my own friends because they don't seem to even *have* rules.

All that said: I KNOW deep down in the cockles of my heart how blessed and RICH I really am. I have a husband who loves me, an adorable son, a decent job with kind coworkers, and these friends. Not to mention a nice, more than adequate home, and nice things. (Just maybe not so many nice things as they have.) It's ridiculous -- even sinful -- for me to covet their things, their lives. God gave me This life. And He could have given me any number of lives; I shouldn't even have to remind myself that there are hungry, poor, homeless, suffering millions who'd give anything to have all that I have.

I just feel down about the whole episode. I think loving your station in life is a lesson that takes a long time to learn. I am certain it starts with basic Thanksgiving. Therefore, the Gratitude Journal:

1. For my home and the way we've decorated it, which is good and charming. No one who came here would say we lack for nice things.

2. For my beautiful family, and for knowing the value of money is less than the value of time together. (My husband has been offered, more than once, a higher-paying position at the company, but it would be at a price. He'd have to work more and be here less, and he's not willing to do that. And that is a GOOD thing; I love him for it.)

3. For my father, who taught me to save money. Taught me a little *too* well. ;)

4. For my mother, who understands me.

5. For my girlfriends. I do love them. I learn from them. (Even this time, I guess.)

Breakfast

Mudslide Smoothie

1 banana
1/2 cup vanilla yogurt
1-2 TBSP honey
1/2 cup milk
1-2 TBSP Nestle Quik or hot cocoa mix
ice cubes (optional)

Blend and crush ice, and enjoy!

Untitled

It is raining, raining, raining. Has been since before I got out of bed this morning at six. The lowest part of our backyard is becoming a lake.

I'm a little chilly, but there's navy bean soup in the crock pot, making the house feel and smell awfully cozy.

AJ reached a milestone last night that we weren't expecting: He called out for DADDY, and only DADDY. I'd put him to bed per usual, and he let me sing one short lullaby to him before reaching for his blankies and snuggling down in his "child's pose" yoga position. I went back downstairs, settled in next to DH to watch the rest of the Seattle game and finish my book, when the monitor started screaming, "DA-DAH! DA-DAH!" We had to ask each other, "What kind of cry is that?" because it didn't sound familliar -- was kinda scared, kinda whiny, kinda raspy, but not his usual sound, nor his usual word, which is MAMA! He clearly wanted a particular parent, so DH went up to see what the deal was, and he reported ten minutes later that the little guy CLAMPED onto him with both arms and both legs. Like a magnet to the fridge. For a minute, he said, AJ's head was upright, eyes open, but soon he felt it fall to the side and the breathing became regular as he fell asleep.

I'm convinced he got scared about something, although I don't know what -- that's just what it sounded like to me. Glad he got over it pretty quickly. Perhaps a new era has begun, where Daddy is the big strong guy who can hold us when scary things like the dark or the rain or thunder threaten.

Dirt, new potatoes, irrigatin', manure, and other treasures

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.

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?

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!

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!")

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? :)

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?"

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.

*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!

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.

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 other committments commitments. (I always spell that one wrong the first time. Sigh. Somebody call the Phi Betes -- they'll be wanting their pin back.)

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.

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.

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.

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. :)