Archive for January, 2009
Danette from Everyday Adventures presented me with three awards at once! I haven’t gotten to give out awards in quite a while, so I’m glad to have the opportunity.
(By the way, if I’ve bestowed an award and you don’t participate in bloggy awards, please don’t feel like you have to explain it to me! Just do whatever works for you! And if I didn’t give you an award, it was quite possibly because I thought you didn’t do awards. If that’s the case and you actually do do awards, please take all three, or one…or whatever works or matches your color scheme!)
This award is meant for people who are positive, show gratitude, and of course: make lemons out of lemonade!
The rules for this award are that you post the graphic for it, write a post that links back to the giver, and then pass it on to up to ten others. Leave a comment on the blogs that get the award, so they know what’s happened.
I’m passing this one along to:
Outnumbered Two to One
Bon Bon Gazette
The Grass Widow’s Diary
Also, these two beauts!
Good Enough Mama
Outnumbered Two to One
Bon Bon Gazette
The Grass Widow’s Diary
The rules for these awards are:
1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate at least 10 blogs which show great Attitude and/or Gratitude!
3. Be sure to link to your nominees within your post.
4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
5. Share the love and link to this post and to the person from whom you received your award.
During our foray into DC before the Holidays, we stayed at this rockin’ hotel called the Helix. Quite Duran Duran. And child-friendly with bunkbeds that had their own TV/Video Game combo. Add free wine from 5-7 pm for the parents and you have a winner!
I am capable of spending 7 hours in the Museum of Natural History if I can come home to this simplicity.
The place even had child-sized leopard robes, which, of course, Edward had to don and do a fancy dance on the round faux leather coffee table. Good times friends, good times!
It’s no shotgun shack.
And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here? Let the days go by….
Same as it ever was.
Why do all of my children thrill to going exceptionally fast?
“Sometimes I’m even thankful for myself.” – Edward on Thankfulness.
“Choosing the right breeder is important. That’s why we went with Santa Claus.” – Edward on Dog Breeders.
“I’ve got ‘nostril’ in my mouth but it’s ok because I’m already sick!” Sue on Sickness. (Our group calls “boogers” ‘nostril’ or ‘tiny nostril.’ So refined!)
“Ha! I hit so hard my helmet came apart!” Joseph on Safety.
Boys and girls are vastly different as evidenced through disparate reactions toward a preschool rite of passage: the Fruit Loop necklace.
Sue brought hers home yesterday:
She was so proud to wear it, name all the colors, remark on how it matched her shoes. Every once in a while she would delicately take one bite of a sugary Loop. Yet she kept at least 12 circles intact for several hours, gingerly enjoying a loop here and there at a leisurely pace.
I couldn’t help but be reminded of Joseph’s similar necklace during Pre-K. He graced the pick-up line with a single blue Fruit Loop strung on a bit of yarn, his lips bearing a purply-green tint. “How come we never get really sweet cereal like this with all these colors?”
As for Edward? He appeared ready for after-school pick-up during Kindergarten with a wet piece of yarn stuck to his backpack.
“Is that yarn something important?” I queried. “Is it some sort of craft?”
“Nahh,” he replied, looking back at the limp yarn now littering the sidewalk, “I think it was supposed to be a necklace or somethin.'”
By virtue of reading her blog, (which I highly recommend if you are not already a reader), I’ve been tagged by Carla. I’m glad because it fits in with my self-imposed NaPloBoMo, and it’s quite fun!
Five Names You Go By:
5. Edward’s Mom
Three Things You’re Wearing Right Now:
1. Sweet Tart Drawstring PJ pants
2. Army Green socks
3. Red and white pinstriped robe
Two Things You Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1. Real cream for my coffee
2. Someone else to make up my bed
Three People Who Will Probably Fill This Out:
1. Kim at Connor Cole’s Mom
Two Things You Ate Today:
1. Bagel with cream cheese
2. Sugar in my coffee (does that count?)
Two People You Last Talked To On The Phone:
Two Things You Are Going To Do Tomorrow:
1. Clean up puppy tee tee
2. Clean up puppy poo poo
Two Longest Car Rides:
1. Auburn, AL to Sedona, AZ
2. Huntsville, AL to Washington, DC
Two of Your Favourite Beverages:
2. Sweet Tea
Two Phrases You Said Today To Your Kid That You Wish You Could Take Back
1. I don’t care of the eggs are cold. Just eat them RIGHT NOW or you can’t have any toast!
2. Your nighttime pull-up really smells. Let’s get that thing off.
Where have I been? When my dear friend, Kia, sent me the message: “Dood, where’d you go?” I started to wonder myself where the last two weeks have gone, and I’ll have to admit, the wondering stumped me in a frightening way.
So tonight, while my husband has gone cougar hunting (for the real animals, people) with friends for the weekend, I am feeding my children popcorn and donuts, and allowing them to watch 102 Dalmations (mild violence) while I try to catch up. (Thank you KinniKinnick for your awesome GF/CF cinnamon sugar donuts!)
(Yes, I did say cougar hunting. Apparently cougars can be quite a menace, although H has never killed another living thing since, as a young boy, he shot a bird with a bow and arrow crafted out of a windshield wiper blade. I feel confident regarding the cougar population’s longevity.)
So I decided to run through my calendar and pictures for the past two weeks and see what all I actually did accomplish. Here’s the short list:
1. Help Edward prepare for City-Wide Home School Spelling Bee, which included words like “suet” and “concentric,” while simultaneously adjusting to a new developmental psychologist. “What are you drawing, Edward?” she asks as he draws circles encircled by circles, endlessly. “Oh, those are concentric circles…you know c-o-n-c-e-n-t-r-i-c…Sort of reminds me of the little poem, ‘A Thief in the Night, t-h-i-e-f!’ “Yes, well…I…” She looks at me, puzzled. “Why is he spelling everything?” she whispers, scribbling furiously on her notepad. (Glory be, she’s found yet another diagnosis!) “Oh, he’s just preparing for a big spelling bee,” I encouraged. He then regaled her with a long discussion of Cuba and communism followed by questions about positive and negative cognition. “There’s just so much dyssynchronous development going on here…such an amazing cognitive ability while the social…” “Yes! Dyssynchrony!” Edward chortles! “I can’t spell it but I know it means ‘uneven’!”
2. Teach children how to use a napkin properly.
Did I mention we have a new puppy?
3. Celebrate Joseph’s 9-year-old birthday with a trip to Olive Garden. (Remember, it’s a chain-obsessed town.)
Did you know new puppies don’t sleep well at night? And if they sleep in your child’s bed, they will relieve themselves at the corner of the bedspread?
4. Receive training in how to administer growth hormone shots to Edward. Give growth hormone shots to Edward. Every. Single. Night. Possibly. For. The. Next. Ten. Years.
Were you aware that new puppies get sick when fed too many raisins and popcorn? Not to mention the gas that particular combination creates in the newborn canine digestive system…
5. Attend Sue’s “Muffins with Mom” celebration at her preschool while darting out every three minutes to check on the other two boys who are found, red-faced and sweating, pummeling each other with pillows in the youth room while five calm, homeschooled girls watch Little House on the Prairie videos.
Have I mentioned that we have a new puppy and she’s learned how to bark. Really, really loudly?
6. Spend one day at a City-Wide Homeschool Spelling Bee followed by carpooling followed by borrowing every electronic hand-held game known to man in preparation for nine-year-old having two spots removed at a local dermatologist known for two-hour waits. Sit with 3, 7 and 9-year-old in a waiting room while a TV monitor drones endlessly about the latest psoriasis treatments…field endless psoriasis questions: “Do you have psoriasis? Did I ever had psoriasis? Do you think that lady has psoriasis? Look how gross the psoriasis looks on that TV screen! Are those things scabs? Will that Humira help? What does that girl have? Do you think she has eczema? Doesn’t she look like a babysitter we had once? I know I had eczema and so did Joseph! Did we take Humira?”
The questions are wearing me down: “Why can’t you play with that hand-held Star Wars thing? Isn’t that why we borrowed it? Why aren’t you playing it?”
“It’s out of batteries. I think it needs to be recharged. Did you borrow the charger? You know it comes with a charger.”
I rifle through the bag. “There’s no charger! Just watch the psoriasis show until they call our name!”
“Do you think I will ever get psoriasis? Why is the ‘p’ silent in psoriasis? Is it a Latin word? What’s your favorite Latin word? Do you have to know a lot of Latin to be a dermatologist?”
Did I mention we have a new puppy? (Yes, she is peeing.)
Gone cougar hunting. Check ya later!
When I look back over the past year, I begin to realize all at once what a difficult, challenging, exasperating, exhausting year it was, and yet also what a ridiculously funny, and amazingly blessed year it was, too.
I think one of my greatest lessons of 2008 will sound quite selfish to many of you, but in actuality I learned that I need to be a bit more selfish. In homeschooling, bookselling, doing home OT/Floortime therapy with my middle child, cooking, cleaning, (well every once in a while), being a mommy, being a wife, trying to be a friend, attempting to blog, I got hopelessly lost in the fray.
I became lost in being 40…feeling old…feeling tired…and just plain old feeling like every day there was absolutely no way I could accomplish a third of what I needed to do. Add to that my feeble attempt to do all this in my own strength instead of relying on God, and you have a recipe for depression and despondency.
So, I quit reading, I quit putting on makeup. I wore the same sloggy black, van-ravaged, bleach-stained pants for days in a row. A baseball cap became my grandest accessory. I began to hold pity parties regularly, reheating thick morning coffee, (I didn’t deserve fresh), and using cheap powdered creamer.
(Ever notice how that powder floats on top of cold coffee…simply won’t mix in…wretched…)
All of a sudden I woke up and realized that I was nowhere in all this. I was buried under piles of laundry and unfiled homeschool papers. I was tormented by incomplete behavior checklists and unused recipes. I was tortured by unreturned phone calls, unmade doctor’s appointments, delayed hair appointments, neglected feet, worn-out clothes and badly-crafted knock-off designer purses.
For some reason, the purses are what pushed me over the edge. I actually have two grand blogging friends to thank for this sanity send-off. Andrea at Crazy Jugs wrote so eloquently about her love of Coach and how she had nowhere to brandish her purses now that she had become a stay-at-home mom in a smallish town. Then Kia at Good Enough Mama wrote poetically about her new Coach Christmas purse purchased by her darling husband.
I thought about these purses a lot. I mean way too much. I am not sure I can explain the relationship between the purses and my own self-concept but when H gave me a decent spot of cash for my recent birthday, I decided to spend it, for once, on myself. I would not spend it on Christmas presents for other people, nor would I use it for groceries, prescriptions, sensible cotton panties or homeopathic attention aids.
I waited to shop until we visited H’s parents, since they live in a larger town known for fabulous after-Christmas sales. When my mother-in-law announced she would be arising early on New Year’s Day to be the first in line for some 75% off 75% sale, I knew I needed to be with her. (She truly is an inspiring shopping partner!)
I arrived at the planned store, entered immediately at 9:55 and headed straight for the designer handbag section. Waiting there, alone on the shelf, yes waiting just for me was this beauty:
75% off the admittedly excessive, extravagant regular price. My pulse raced. I grabbed for it. A woman rushed up to me. “Are there more? Is that the only one?” she asked feverishly. “Yes, it appears so,” I replied cooly. She gasped at the reduced price and sulked away. I clutched my find and beamed.
You know, God put that purse there just for me. He did that, I believe, to delight me, to remind me that He is in the tiniest details of my life, and to remind me that I matter…even when what I am focusing on is superficial and esoteric. Because on the outside, this purse might seem to scream “statement” and “unimportant fashion,” yet to me, after this year of trial, acknowledgment and acceptance, it speaks something quite different.
You may not get it. But I do. And that’s what matters at this point.
“Does it look like me?” I asked H, somewhat fearfully. “It looks like the fun, bold person you used to be,” he encouraged with a smile. “Nah…it does look like you,” he encouraged.
OK friends, I’ve laid it out there.
Help me live up to the purse!