Not in the traditional sense. Today I am guest posting over at Bunny Burrow, as part of a raffle prize won by the lovely Chana. If you are a regular visiter to Chana's site, then you know how wonderful she is. If you are not, then I certainly hope that will be your next stop in the blogosphere! Chana is not only beautiful and funny, but down-to-earth, giving, caring.... shall I go on?
Hop on over and take a peek at her world!
your three year old, completely unprompted, yells from her bedroom, "Nothing is wrong!"
Frally of Tidbits, Thingamajigs, & Wathamacallits recently conducted a very serious, in-depth interview with me. Here is the transcript:
Frally: What movie character do you most relate to?
Christine: Off the top of my head I would say Sally Albright, from When Harry Met Sally. She has a naivety about her. She knew what she wanted from life. And we are both very high maintenance. (Although in my case, I am aware of that fact.) I quote her all the time - "I just want what I want the way I want it."
Frally: What's your favourite knock-knock joke?
Christine: Knock-Knock. (who's there?) Spell (spell who?) W.H.O. Ba-dum-bum!
Frally: If you were to have 10 more babies, 5 boys and 5 girls, what would their names be?
Christine: Are you kidding me? I had a hard enough time coming up with the two names I did. I'd probably just start numbering them, or naming them after candy, like Lexie does in Where The Heart Is.
Frally: What was your most embarrassing moment?
Christine: Oh I'm not telling! But I will tell you it had to do with my car, and it coming into contact with a building.
Frally: Tell us a secret.
Christine: I sometimes turn on Laurie Berkner songs - when my kids aren't around! (My husband is seeking help for me)
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I found this at SBFH, and though I don't generally do memes, I thought this one would be fun.
Ten Things I've Done That You Probably Haven't
(BTW, one of these is false. It turns out I haven't done many interesting things.)
I am terribly honored to be choosen as a Certified Redhead! (This wouldn't have anything to so with my post of self-pitty, would it?)
At any rate, I'd like to give you all something fun to read, rather than me feeling sorry for myself, and since my family is trying to get me out the door, I'm going to provide you with a few links to some better stuff. (If you don't have time, feel free to scroll down and join in my pitty party.)
Here are a couple of my favorites:
Dear Little Man
Silent Lucidity
And finally, the picture that will appear in my son's senior yearbook, with lots of gushy, lovey comments from his parents.
Thank you Webwench - you made my day!
*Where is everyone today?
*I'm having a "bad" day today, and am wondering whether my medication is doing it's job for me anymore. I blew up at my family this evening, and as always after I get over the rage I feel incredibly guilty, and that I have no business being a mother. After it was over Bubblehead tried to tell me that I hadn't said or done anything over the top, and that it was deserved, but there is no way I will be convinced of that. Those kids are little, and the problems I have with them are all my fault.
*My energy level is extremely low lately, and my motivation is even lower. I have all these wonderful ideas to help jump start my life, but I can't get motivated enough to make it happen.
*I think I need to visit my doctor with these issues, but have found myself without insurance. I will continue to hang in there until we get that straightened out.
*Did you happen to see this?
*No, my husband isn't moving to Iraq. This was a playful conversation, and not the serious one everyone seemed to think it was. (although he did actually apply for the position.)
*Want to make me feel better? Tell me what a gorgeous, intelligent, caring mother I am. (Oh go ahead - lie to me.)
Me: "Ella, try to go tinkle before we leave." Labels: quips
Gabriella: "I just don't have the power to tinkle right now."
I found a beautiful, heart-touching poem this week while surfing blog explosion, written by a mother who is also experiencing postpartum depression. Get out your Kleenex and go read it!
Two wonderful mommies, Cooper and Emily, run a great little blog called Been There. I have "been there" before, but this week I received this wonderful comment from Cooper which brought me to their site to discover this jem of an idea they have put into motion. (I have to add here that I think this is one of the greatest ideas I've heard in a long time. I hope that each one of you will follow their challenge and give the parents you know a pat on the back, and let them know they're doing a great job!)
I'm also going to send you over to visit my friend Jenn, who shared a story this week of a friend of ours, who I think is so amazing. (And while you're there, don't miss this story!)
And before you go on your merry way, be sure to go over to Short and Sweet and wish Cori a happy birthday!!
I wanted to thank all of you that took the time to make some suggestions in my earlier post. You all had great ideas, and I will be using them!
For those of you who wanted to see pictures of me, I've been terribly frustrated with that because all my favorite pictures of myself seem to be of the film variety, rather than digital. Bubblehead is searching for the cord to the scanner, but until I can scan them I will not be happy. Until then, I did add a picture of me in my blogger profile, so you can get a sneak peek there. :) (That's a picture of me with 11 month old Gabriella, who despite the way it looks, was an expert walker at that time.)
More pictures of me and the kids to come, as well as that Care Bear photo promised to Goldberry. (Be sure you go check out hers here. We're having a friendly little "competetion" of sorts on the Care Bear front. I'm sure she has me beat!)
Always up for more ideas, so feel free to send more my way. The blog round-up will be coming later today (and Amanda, I loved your idea of putting those links in my sidebar so the links are there all week. I will be working on that soon as well!)
This post may get a PG-13 rating, so if you are easily offending, skip it.
The hands of a seventeen year old boy. I was taken with them immediately, because they were young, and smooth. Musician's hands - soft and feeling, and yet they were so strong and rugged at the same time. I watched them when we were together. I could see them when I closed my eyes. There was something about his hands.
The first time he took my hand in his, I went weak. Everything else went hazzy and it's all I could think about - my sweaty hand in his. I remember that moment so clearly, even now.
His hands touched me in places no other hands had gone, which only gave them more allure to me. When I watched them play the bass, or drive, or write, I thought of his hands on me, and smiled to myself, knowing a secret only he and I would ever know.
Later I would put a ring on his left hand, and make them mine. I would hold those wonderful hands in the most important moments of my life. During our wedding, when we were joined together forever. During our tearful goodbyes, when he would walk across that brow and down into the sub, and I knew I wouldn't see him for months. During bad news delivered by his gentle words and strong arms. During the conception of our children, when we took that step from a couple to a family. During the birth of our children, when our lives truly changed forever.
Now those hands are older, and yet I don't see a day of age on them. They are the same seventeen year old hands in my eyes. Now they rock our babies to sleep at night, and take out the trash. They still touch me and make me dizzy and weak. I look at them and see our life together.
In his hands I have literally placed my life. I knew the moment I saw them that they would love me, comfort me, protect me, and encourage me thru anything. There is no safer place to be than in his hands.
You know those moments that occur now and then, and you just hope and pray that no one else noticed? I had one of those moments today.
We had taken the kids to the library to pick out some movies, and because it was a lovely day out Bubblehead took the kids across the way to the park to play while I was waiting to check out. I took our movies to the car, and then started across the parking lot to the playground. In order to get there I had to step up a concrete step, about 2 feet high. As I approached the step I decided to put a little spring in my step and jump up, rather than step like any normal person would do.
Instead of the graceful hop I was going for, my leg didn't clear the step, and I scraped up my shin, tore a hole in my pants, and my shoe went flying off. After I righted myself I brushed the dirt off, I used a few choice words (in my head), and searched out my shoe in the bushes.
Luckily, Bubblehead was trained as an EMT on the sub, so when we got home he doctored me up. He knows that I'm a klutz, very high maintentance, and a horrible patient, so he doles out the perfect combination of love and humor in these situations. (The relentless teasing will come later.)
I'm having a hard time keeping up my blog, as well as the blogging world this week. (It might have something to do with my dear husband being home all the time, but I'm not sure...)
I've been putting all my writting energy into a guest post for the lovely Chana at Bunny Burrow, which will be appearing there very soon. I haven't had time to write anything new and interesting here for myself.
So while I try to catch up on things here in my own life, and hopefully find some time to visit all my blogging friends, I am setting up this post as a suggestion box of sorts. Please take a moment to inspire me with some writting ideas. Got any burning questions you've just been dying to ask me? Now's your chance! Tell me what you want to see here at Mommy Matters!
"Alex has the pass in the gas" Labels: quips
This week's movie quote courtesy of Bubblehead.
"Go that way, really fast. If something gets in your way, turn."
I know I've written about the Care Bears before, but seeing as they truly are a part of my life, they continue to provide me with inspiration. Gabriella loves her Care Bears. She has 20-some of these little creatures, although if you ask her she will tell you she has 87. I don't know where she got this number from, but 87 has been it for quite a while. Not that it really makes a difference, because whether it's 20-some or 87, they are EVERYWHERE!
The Care Bears have been resurrected from the days of my own childhood, although I'm pretty sure they have mulitplied since then. They don't seem to be running out of names, and I'm guessing as long as they can come up with some sugar-sweet name, they will make a new Care Bear to go along with it. Cheer Bear, Funshine Bear, Friend Bear, Love-a-Lot Bear, Tenderheart Bear, Good Luck Bear, Share Bear, Wish Bear, Grumpy Bear, Bedtime Bear, Daydream Bear, Best Friend Bear, Thanks-a-Lot Bear, Take Care Bear, Do Your Best Bear, Grams Bear, Champ Bear, Laugh-a-Lot Bear, Baby Hugs & Baby Tugs Bear, America Bear.... Right - you get the picture.
Gabriella asked me once why there isn't a Sorry Bear. She's right - there should be a Sorry Bear. I'm sure it's just a matter of time. And I guarentee you when it hits the shelves of our local Target, she will own it. (Thanks, Grandma!)
So my brother and I were having a discussion recently and decided we should come up with our own line of Care Bears. Lactose Intolerent Bear, for instance. That is a segment of the population that isn't well-represented by the toy industry. Perhaps Lonely Heart Bear? Disco Dancing Bear would be a big hit - it could be packaged with a karaoke style sing-along video of hits from the 70s. It would work - it would! Just tell me you wouldn't buy your child, niece, or neighbor's cousin an adorable little Draft Dodger Bear!
(Any ideas? Spew them here!)
You mean you didn't know? Why today is Winterfest, of course! The third Saturday in February..... doesn't ring a bell? Perhaps it was overlooked on your calendar.
Yes, you heard me right, today is a holiday. Winterfest was created by my sister-in-law and dear friend several years ago as a way to break up this time of year when it seems the dull, windy days of winter will drag on forever. It is a day to spend with your family, enjoy cooking meals together, playing games and just generally spending time together.
Most Winterfests are quite a to-do, including fun little gifts and a huge crowd of both my family and hers. There are usually several games going on, crafts for the kids, and lots of hanging out in the kitchen. This year many people were unavoidably busy, so it was a smaller affair. We had a homemade french toast breakfast, followed by naps for the kids, an X-Box tournament for the guys, and a bit of baby shopping for the girls, as there will be a new addition to the family in a couple of months. That was followed up by more naps, some snacking while cooking dinner (homemade baked potato soup, bread, salad, and gingerbread for dessert). We had dinner and after cleaning up we had a Family Feud championship (which I'm proud to announce the girls won.)
So sadly I don't have anything more fun or exciting to share with you, as this is how I spent my day. But you know, some people don't get to spend time with their families. So I'm lucky. (And sappy, apparently. I will try harder to entertain tomorrow.)
"Grandpa's a cool dude!" Labels: quips
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I was thinking today about blogging. I haven't told many people in my "real life" that I blog, for several reasons. Somehow it's easier to share some things about yourself with strangers rather than those who know you best. My blog kind of feels like my own private little space, and though I somehow don't mind the entire internet world walking through here, I feel protective of it in the real world. Even though I often post silly things, I also share a lot of deep feelings here. (When Gabriella was still a baby I found these two gorgeous journals, and I bought them to write letters and such for her to keep and read when she's older. How lucky that I bought two, because now I also have one for Alexander. Most of the posts you read here about my kids and my life I will hand-write in those journals for my children.)
One other reason I haven't shared my blog with my family and friends is that I'm just a little afraid of what they will think. Will they think I'm pathetic and need to get a life? Will they think I'm a bad mother for spending time on this rather than with my children? Maybe I am pathetic and need to get a life.
But look at all the good that has come from my blog. I am writting every day now. It has been good therapy for me, helping me get my feelings out. I have found kindred spirits who know what it's like to go through depression and try to fake happiness for your kids.
How else in my life would I come into contact with a rock star? I've gotten to party with a giggler, a wild woman, a babbler, and a genuinely nice guy. I've met three famous psychoanalysts. (Who would have known - I studied them in college, and now I read their blog!) I've met a SAHM from the UK, and a vegetable-loving procrastinator. I've gotten to keep up on the lives of some friends, like the one with the gay son, the caffine-addicted soccer mom, and the mad one who hands out sarcasm for free. I've met a journalist from Canada, and a photographer from Atlanta. I've met a hair stylist and a home schooler. I've followed the story of a 14 ounce baby, and the photographs of an American living in the Netherlands.
I'm not telling you this to name-drop, or to fill a post full of links. I'm pointing this out as one of the benefits of blogging. I never would have interacted with people like this otherwise. I've found support when I needed it, as well as valadation, and humor, and friendship. (I've also learned some basic html skills.) If that is pathetic, then slap that label on me, Baby! I wouldn't want to miss this.
A note to all my friends: Please don't take offense if I didn't mention you above. I was going for diversity to prove my point. I thought of each one of you while writting this post - even those of you without a blog to link to!
I've mentioned before my son's inability to sleep lately. He's getting some teeth (at least this is the reason we've given to the problem this week) and usually wakes up once at some point before we turn in for the night.
Last night I heard him cry out, and I knew this was not going to be one of those times he goes back to sleep on his own. I went in to him and he immediately reached his little arms up to me. (which is enough to melt me into a puddle on the floor right there.) I picked him up and he instantly layed his head on my shoulder, his little arms falling down upon mine. I swayed with the lullabies that play softly in the background, and under my breath sang my made-up lyrics to the song. (Are You Sleeping)Alexander, Alexander,
How are you? How are You?
You're my little angel, you're my little angel,
I love you, I love you
(not genius, I know, but this is why I'm not a song writer.)
I feel him getting heavier, which is a sure sign he's falling asleep. I adjust him so that I am cradling him and can see his sweet little face. His eyes are closed, and his cheeks are smooth and delicate. I kiss him on his forehead, and linger so I can smell him. He is getting so big. I remember a day when I could cradle him easily in just one arm. He is creeping up on two years old now, and won't qualify as a baby much longer.
As I walk to his crib to lay him down I pause, and think about how fast the time has gone. Soon he won't fit in my arms like this. So instead I continue to sway, and kiss, and swoon over this amazing boy. Each time I think that it's time to lay him back down I tell myself that I can't get this moment back once it's gone. Tomorrow he will be bigger, and soon, he will be too heavy to hold. I'll be taking him to kindergarten and watching him run off with his friends - away from me. I continue to sway.
I think about something my mom told me. She said that no matter how big they get, when they are sleeping they always look like your baby. I look at him and see him as I did that first night in the hospital. I layed him upon my propped-up legs and took pictures of him. I touched his skin that was so velvety-soft I almost couldn't feel it at all. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. And now look at this big boy - almost a kid. (No, he couldn't be a kid!) I wonder if my mom ever tiptoes into my room when I'm staying at her house and watches me sleeping, and longs for a moment like the one I have now. No, I'm not putting him down yet.
Swaying and kissing, humming and dreaming. I can't put him down. Just a little longer. And then I realize that I could stay there holding him all night long, and it wouldn't be enough. If I put everything else in my life on pause and just held him until he was too heavy to hold anymore, it wouldn't be enough. In fact if I could keep him just as he is for the rest of my life, and just hold him like this, it wouldn't be enough. So with a sigh, and just one more kiss, I layed him down. I watched him roll over and settle in, and then I left his room, shutting the door on that moment.
It wasn't enough.
(conversation about the time she spent with her daddy at the mall) Labels: quips
Me: "Did you have fun at the mall?"
Gabriella: "No"
Me: "You didn't have fun playing at the playground with K, or getting treats at the food court?"
Gabriella: "No. I just "misted" you, Mommy."
I do love to be "misted"
The charming Mellie Helen of Golly Blog Howdy! shared a story this week of an unfortunate incident that occured while trying to win over the mother of a former boyfriend. Can you believe she continued to date him even after that?! (And if you enjoyed that, there is MORE! Read about it here.)
Kym of Extraordinary Mundane shares how she and her husband celebrated Valentine's Day. If you would like to know how to make a woman feel special, take notes on this!
Jenny of Three Kid Circus wrote about a rather out of the ordinary funeral she recently presided over. All funerals should be of this spirit! (A side note here: Jenny has such a special voice, and her writting is consistently wonderful. If you've never been there before, give her site some of your time - you won't be sorry.)
And finally, there is a new site in the blogosphere this week. The lovely wife of Carmi has started her own blog, Adventures of Motherhood, and already has some very insightful posts. Please go over and welcome Morah Mommy to the block.
I just finished watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (again - I've seen it before). I love this movie. I love the contrasting characters of Joel and Clementine. I love the commentary it makes on choice verses destiny. I also find the premise fascinating - being able to erase something or someone from your memory.
Which brings me to my question for you. (In great Michele style). If you could erase one thing from your memory, would you? What would it be?
Those of you who are reviewing my site on blog explosion and marking me down for recent/regular updates, I'm just wondering what exactly you consider recent and/or regular. I update every freaking day! (And not that I think you should have to update every day.) You don't even have to be a regular reader to scan down the posts and notice the dates.
I really don't care how you want to rate me. I think it's ridiculous to think you can rate in such detail a blog unless you read it regularly. But really, does it take updating every hour to please you people?!?
Preface, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 Chapter 6
We had to get up very early this morning in order to return our rental car at the Caen airport and then take a taxi out to the ferry terminal. We got to the airport and returned the car. I'm not sure we saw another living soul besides the janitor while we were there waiting for our taxi. We got some snacks from the vending machine, and soon our ride pulled up.
We told the driver we needed to go to catch the ferry to England, and though he didn't seem to speak a whole lot of English, he did seem to understand, and we were on our way. We drove until the lights of the city faded out and the road became more rural. Bubblehead and I are whispering to each other because we were worried the driver didn't understand where we needed to go, and we were on a time schedule here. At one point Bubblehead checked to be sure this guy was taking us to the right place. I don't know why we thought the terminal was much closer, but we did, and I was seriously worried that we were going to have to take another cab back to the correct place, and end up missing the ferry.
Turns out the driver understood better than we did, and we arrived in the right place with plenty of time to spare. We picked up our tickets which we had reserved online before leaving Denver, and then sat down to a little breakfast.
We boarded the ferry, settled into our assigned seats, although we had the entire room to ourselves. Once the ferry got underway we tried to nap, but couldn't sleep. We wandered through the gift shop (I found a Teletubbies sticker book for Ella), and we had lunch in one of the restaurants onboard.
I enjoyed our stay in France more than even I realized at the time, but I can't describe to you the feeling of relief I felt to be back among English speakers! I really felt the stress of not speaking the language, and when we arrived in Portsmouth and asked for directions to the train station with a reply in our own language, it was like a breath of fresh air.
The train station was close enough that we decided to walk the distance, Bubblehead pulling the suitcase behind him, and I following along lugging my backpack. After a short wait at the station we boarded the train to London. It was crowded, so thank goodness we were able to find one seat for me - I was ready to collapse! Bubblehead had to stand a lot of the way, until he found a seat not terribly far from me. I spent the train ride reading my book, and trying to ignore the conversation of the people sitting next to me.
When we arrived in London we found a cab to take us to our hotel. I remember the driver was very friendly, although I don't remember the conversation. Checking in at the hotel took forever. I was so happy to finally get up to our room and lay down. I was even able to watch, or more importantly understand, television!
As a stay at home mom, I spend 99.9% of my time with my kids. I don't want to give the impression that I don't love spending time with them, because I do, but when you spend so much time with two little people, you are bound to long for a little time to yourself. Mix in the fact that it's a very one-sided relationship on the mental stimulation front. I spend a lot of time with my kids playing games and reading stories in an effort to impart knowledge to them, and give their imaginations a work-out. I, on the other hand, am rarely challenged in this way. (Although they are teaching me all about patience, and love, and the fine art of disinfecting things.)
When bedtime rolls around I am delirious with joy to see those sweet little faces with eyes closed. So happy that I would do a ritual happy dance if I weren't so exhausted by that time. With the children safely tucked into bed I am at last free to do as I please - read a book, watch a movie, or most likely read some blogs. I have given nearly every moment of my day to my munchkins and now finally what is left of the day is all mine!!!
So why is it that right after they fall alseep, and I go in to make sure they are covered up and give their soft little cheeks some kisses to keep the bad dreams at bay, that I long for them to be awake so I can cuddle with them and read them stories, or listen to them chatter on while they scribble in their coloring books?!? What the hell is wrong with me?
Not thirty minutes ago I was so anxious to put them to bed and be reprieved, and here I am wishing they were awake because I miss them. I'm telling you something has been knocked loose in my head. It must be part of the kids' master plan to take me over completely. Sadly, it's working. I am so in love with those little people that I can't even fully enjoy what little time I have away from them. (Evidence that further proves Mamacita's point that all mothers are crazy.)
We'll be going out later to find me a straight jacket.
Bubblehead: "Alex is ruining your lantern, Sweetie. Maybe it's time to put it up." Labels: quips
Gabriella: "You can make lanterns, Daddy. You're the bomb!"
Preface, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
These next two entries will be on the dull side (even more so) because they consist mainly of traveling. I'll try to make them short while still including all the detail I want for my own journal. Stick with me, for I will soon cover our time in London.
We had just enjoyed a lovely day driving around the more rural areas outside Paris. It had been the most charming experience I've ever had. One of the things Bubblehead wanted to see was Normandie, so we decided to drive north, and take a ferry over to England from there. We headed out of Paris the next morning toward the city of Caen. We had lunch en route, via a Burger King drive-thru, and found humor in the fact that they call Diet Coke "Coke Light". When we arrived in Caen we found our hotel, which was this lovely building that was obviously not originally built to be a hotel.
The young gentleman who showed us to our room had me enter the tiny little elevator, and then put our one large suitcase in with me. The elevator was now very full. He pressed the correct button, and then he and Bubblehead headed up the narrow, winding staircase to met me on the third floor. There they were when the door opened, and they manuvered the suitcase out so that I could exit.
The room was again small, but comfortable. At this time I had been going non-stop for the last five days, and the thought of lugging my pregnant body around the chilly Normandie beach was not my idea of fun, so I bid Bubblehead farewell, and layed myself down on the bed for a nap. I spent the rest of the day relaxing, and washing socks and underware in the sink. I also remember singing lullabies outloud to my baby boy - the same lullabies I had been singing to Gabriella for the last 20 months. (I wish I could tell you about Normandie. I will have to leave that to Bubblehead.)
When Bubblehead returned we went walking to see the surrounding area a bit and find a place to eat. We once again went for Italian food, because I was feeling cranky and high-maintenance (more than usual), and Italian is what sounded good to me. We ate at La Maison D'Italie, where I enjoyed the tortelloni a la creme and an evian, with mousse chocolat for dessert. We then went back to go to bed. This was about the half-way point, and I was wondering if I was going to make it walking around London!
No, not for myself. One of my favorite blogging mamas could use some extra prayers for her mother, who is fighting lung cancer, and was admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. Please go over to visit Busy Mom and let her know we're all thining of her.
In honor of Valentine's Day I decided to post something I wrote recently that is romantic in nature. This is the story of my first kiss. (Incidently, it was with the man I am now married to.) Happy Valentine's Day!
Bubblehead and I went on a double date to the school play (Camalot) with his friend M and his date - a girl I knew from my own class. (He was a senior, and I was a sophomore.) We had seen the play at school the day before, so at intermission we decided to leave, and we all crammed into M's truck and went up into the hills "four-wheeling". (We lived in a very small town. What can I say.)
We bounced around on the dirt roads. I was upset (although silently so) when M swerved to hit a rabbit or two along the way. We came to a hill, and M gave it some gas, and then in the dark saw that there was a ledge. He hit the brakes just in time. We felt the truck lurch forward just a bit as we came to a sudden stop. We all stared for a moment into the darkness into which we almost fell.
We hopped out to get a better look, and calm our nerves as we were all a bit shaken. It was a 10 or 20 foot drop. Nothing Hollywood would have found entertaining, but enough to get us hurt, or more important in our minds I'm sure, enough to get us in trouble! Bubblehead helped me out of the truck, and then took me in his arms and held me. To this day I have never felt as safe as I did at that moment.
After all the excitment Bubblehead drove me home. My house was off the main road a bit, and we had 5 acres of land around it where we kept two horses. In the dark I took him out to see my horses, more to delay his leaving than anything else. We walked up and down the fence a little, talking, and then he took me to the door. (Let me interject here that we had been on a few dates at this point, and I had been wondering when he was going to get around to kissing me. My stomach was tied in knots thinking that maybe tonight he finally would.) We were standing by the side door of the garage, by the wood pile. The moths were flitting about the porch light. He held me, and leaned in and kissed me. It was a long kiss, and it felt so natural when his tongue parted my lips. All my nerves suddenly faded, and I kissed him back. It was perfect.
You couldn't pay me to go back to high school again, but there are certain moments I wish I could redo over and over. The feeling in the pit of your stomach that radiates out to every inch of your body when you kiss someone for the first time - I wish that were something you could experience more than once.
"Have I fired anyone today? Why would I start with you?"
I am taking a small moment from my usual writting to turn your attention to a wonderful company. Let me say upfront that I am not tied to this company in any way, and am getting nothing by telling you this, nor have I been asked to tell you about them.
I discovered the Uncalendar company when I was in college, and found their personal organization systems WONDERFUL!! (Think datebook, but it's so much better!)They are so flexible, so that no matter what you need to keep track of, it helps you do it. Not only that, but their customer service is top notch!
I have been using their calendars ever since - ten years now, and as my needs have changed, they have always had a product to meet it. I am a true blue PDA girl, and I use my PDA for everything, but there is nothing like a good paper organizer. If you happen to be someone who uses a calendar or datebook to help you stay organized, do yourself a favor and try these out!
After noticing some noises coming from Gabriella's direction that, ah... sounded a little "wet", I asked Gabriella if she was feeling okay. Labels: quips
Gabriella: "yes"
Me: "Do you need to be cleaned up?"
Gabriella: "No. I was just making some cute little farts."
Okay then...
My dear husband, who you all know as Spiral (because when he started his blog Eventual Restaurant, he choose as his screen name "the Downward Spiral", which seemed appropriate for that venture), has picked himself up, dusted himself off, and got back on the blogging horse.
I hope you'll go pay him a quick visit at his new home (all shiny and new!) and help him break it in. (I've noticed some of you have already been over. He's been on my blogroll for a few days now, but today is his official "coming out" here at Mommy Matters.)
And because nothing is without FWIF here at our place, he's changed his screen name, just to keep you all on your toes. Please formally welcome back to the blogosphere, Bubblehead!
I bet you all thought I forgot about posting the other half of our trip to Europe, didn't you?
Well, yes, I did. I guess I got preoccupied, coupled with the daunting task of pulling it all out of the depths of my not-so-great memory. I almost forgot that I've only taken you half way. Fear not, for I will be working on it shortly. (Thanks to my dear husband for reminding me.)
Want to recap? Here are the links:
Preface, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
I was having a conversation with my sister-in-law this evening (who is pregnant) about the differences in the way strangers treat you when you are pregnant, and I became very interested in this phenomenon. Why exactly is it that people are a little friendlier, and more likely to strike up a conversation with a pregnant woman?
I think that pregnancy, as it relates to parenthood, is something that a lot of people can relate to. If I'm standing in front of a cashier at Target, she doesn't know anything about me, other than what my purchases might tell her. But if I'm pregnant, she immediately is reminded of her own children. How she was a week late with her first and felt like she would never see her birthday come. How with her second she was so violently nauseous for a week the only thing she could keep down was ginger ale. How she had dressed her son in an outfit so similar to the one I happen to be buying now the day she took him in for his first professional portraits, and to this day they are her favorite pictures of him. These emotions are so strong, and she knows that she has this in common with the stranger standing in front of her. The conversation is just so easy and simple.
Then again I could be wrong on this theory. I show up at Target now with my hair disheveled, a cranky baby and a 3 year old who behaves in a way that has me constantly saying her name in a stern voice from the moment I walk in the door. Don't I still share those common bonds with that cashier? Why isn't she jumping at the chance to talk to me? I guess my situation reminds her of less than heart-warming memories.
I'll tell you one thing, though. My stressed-out mother self appreciates the friendliness more than my pregnant self did.
My mother has couch in her living room. It's completely white, and long, with a couple of matching rectangular pillows up against the arm at each side. She has owned it longer than I've been around. It sits in the living room, which in her home is different and seperate from the family room. The living room has always been a more formal place - a place for adults to sit and visit. There is no TV in the living room, so growing up I didn't spend much time there.
Now that I'm an adult, I spend more time there. The living room is right off her kitchen, which is where we spend most of our time there, and the living room is where the kids play, and we sit with a cup or tea and visit, or read. I'm much more familiar with that couch now.
Even though it's soft and comfortable, I've always seen it as more formal - not a place I would lay down and take a nap. Recently, though, we have discovered the magical powers of this couch. Anytime someone lays down on it, they are instantly so comfy that they can't help but fall asleep. It has gotten a reputation for being "the" place to take a nap.
Now every Saturday after our weekly pancake breakfast when I'm wondering where Spiral has disappeared to, I have to look no further than the magic couch. There he will be, in the middle of our children knocking over castles of blocks with great zeal, fast asleep.
Damn it! I was going to lay there!
(said in the sweetest, most innoscent voice you've ever heard.) Labels: quips
"Mommy, I want to be with you forever."
(I appoligize for this being on the short side - I haven't been able to make my usual blog rounds the last few days. These here are outstanding, though. Please pay them a visit!)
Stand By Your Statue is one I come across often on Blog Explosion, and I think John has come up with something very clever and fun. If you've never taken the time to view his photos, do it now! (He even takes submissions from his visitors. Get your cameras out and go on a statue hunt!)
Stolidoli shares a roll-on-the-floor funny story about her adorable son, which will have me checking on the status of my son's testicles from now on. (One more thing for me to worry about!)
Ella wrote a wonderful post that I think probably speaks for the majority of stay at home moms out there. I certainly hope you'll go over to Melinkie and read this.
Be sure to go over to Barefoot Principessa today and post your entries for fabulous prizes!! You don't have any entries you say? No problem - there is still time to get in on the fun. All the details are on Kate's site. What are you waiting for! Come play along, and help support the March of Dimes!
I secretly enjoy watching Little House on the Prairie. I don't watch it so much anymore, but I remember a time (not too many years ago) that I caught the reruns everyday. I've always been a little facinated with life a century (or so) ago. It's such a sweet show - wholesome and without pretense. There's always that lesson to be taken from each episode.
My favorite character without a doubt is Caroline Ingalls. I find her sweet voice and motherly ways soothing. It took me a little while to pin down what it was, but now I know that it's because she reminds me a bit of my own mother; tall and slender, strong but soft, hard working, never complains, loving to no end.
In my mind this is what a mother should be. I am not these things. (Well, maybe tall and slenderish.) Okay yes, I am endlessly loving. I pretend to be strong, but am not always. I complain - a lot. And I use to be hard working, but I'm too chronically tired now, and laziness has set in.
I daydream of being more like I use to be. Why can't I make that happen? I'll tell you why. Because you can't take a non-mother, throw in a couple of children, and get a non-mother with children. Remember the whole physical reaction vs. chemical reaction lesson from 7th grade science class? Adding children always results in a chemical reaction.
Don't misunderstand, I want to be a mother. I just wish I could get out of my rut and be a mother who has more of those Ma Ingalls qualities.
I guess I can always show my kids reruns of Roseanne. It won't change me, but they will think I am a wonderful mother by comparison.
I am so very touched by all of your comments. I have faith, and I know my husband - he will have another job soon. We are still very stunned by what happened, but are moving forward.
I will keep you updated as to how we are doing on this front, but for now I'm going to go back to "business as usual" in my life, because that's about all I can do. All of your prayers and thoughts and hugs are so appreciated, as well as your stories. Knowing we aren't the only ones out there who have had to face this is helpful.
Thanks again everyone - I don't even know what to say! What a wonderful group of people you are!
We were just finishing up lunch today, and Gabriella was on the phone to her grandma, to tell her about her latest favorite color, and I was chasing Little Man when Spiral came in - about 12 hours early. (This is often a bad sign.)
Yes, he was let go. No more job. No more money (beyond what he has earned to this point - we will be getting another month's worth of pay). No more insurance. Thanks for helping to build my restaurant from the ground up, and making it one of the nicest places in the state - see ya!
The worst part about this whole thing is he was let go over something that did not occur. I don't want to go into too much detail, but the gist is someone said that he said something in a room full of people that he never said. When the owner talked to him about this, these people stood up for him and said that in fact he did not say this. The owner decided he would rather cut ties than risk a lawsuit. Forget all the loyalty Spiral has shown this guy and his restaurant. Forget all the trust he has earned. Forget that he actually BELIEVES Spiral, but needs to put his pocketbook first.
Eventual Restaurant has officially closed. Go over for the last time and show a little support for Spiral under his last post. He is feeling betrayed, and rightfully so. On a whim someone decided to mess with his life and won.
It all is just a little recent for us, as he was laid off from the airline industry less than a year ago. It's very surreal right now. We will be fine. Things will be good. But right now, we are feeling a little beaten down and used. And scared...
A metaphorical bomb just hit the Mommy Matters household. Due to its personal nature I will be vague, but will explain more later. Your thoughts and prayers are appreciated.
Gabriella: "Is it still Monday, Mommy?"
Labels: quips
Me: "Yes it is, Baby."
Gabriella: "No, it's MonNIGHT!"
She's a smart kid, no?
I'm a native to the great state of Wyoming, and I'm very proud of that. I love it here. But over the course of the last eleven years I've been more of a big city girl, and have, as you might imagine, grown accustom to the "city ways".
My "small town" complaint today has to do with businesses and their websites, or more specifically their lack of a website.
Now I know there is such a thing as a phone book, and I know I can call any business and ask them about their products or services, their hours, or what-not, but I don't like the phonebook. While it does have it's place, the information is so limited. I've just gotten too use to the internet, where I can have my every question answered immediately. I would much rather be able to log on late and night, which is inevidably when my question or wondering will arise, and get an instant answer. Even if I remember the next day during business hours to place the call, doesn't mean that I am free at the time I remember to actually make that call. (I have also found that many employees these days are unfriendly and unwilling to be very helpful, although that's an entirely different rant.)
I can't remember ever having a problem finding a business's website when I lived in Denver, or Seattle. Even a small, locally owned store had a website to tell their cutomers and potential customers about their company.
So why is it that small towns don't see the benefits of a website? The spa - no website. The local coffee place - no website. The local health food store - no website. The locally-owned bookstore - no website.
I was complaining about this to Spiral when he said that if I could learn to put together a decent website I could possibly help them out. I don't see this as the problem, as I'm sure there are many web designers right here in town. The problem lies in convincing these little businesses that they need a website.
I guess I'm stuck using the telephone, or driving around and making notes in my PDA so that I always have the info at my fingertips. (Ironic, that is what the phonebook used to be for.)
I mentioned before my desire to have a third child. Spiral doesn't want another one, and since neither of us wants another one right now, we have agreed to just leave it at that for now and deal with it when the time comes.
I know he would like some reason from me as to why we should have a third. In his eyes there are no reasons. And I have to say that I can see his point. There are several reasons for us to NOT have any more.
So the "burden of proof" as it were, is on me. My desire for a third child is nothing that I can explain. There are no reasons I can explain in a way that don't sound selfish. "Well, I just want one." That doesn't quite cut it. The best I've been able to tell him is that my reasons for wanting a third are the same as my reasons for wanting the first and the second.
I think that with some things in life, there are no reasons. Some decisions can't be made with rationale. Really if everyone made their decision on having children based on rational thought, no one would be having children. Is it really a sane mind who thinks it's a grand idea to go through morning sickness, heartburn, an aching back, and non-stop doctor visits for nine months just to pay a small fortune to the hospital, and then take this creature home with you, who while is adorable to look at, will disrupt your sleep and budget, as well as monopolize your time for the better part of the rest of your life? The reasons for this are found in the heart, not the head.
There is a space in our family for one more. I feel it. I actually almost said this morning as I was trying to take a moment to myself in the bathroom and both my kids were pounding at the door, "quiet down, all three of you." Where did that come from?
Maybe I'm wrong about that empty space, because Spiral doesn't feel it. If it isn't to be, I will continue to be astoundingly grateful for the two beautiful children I've been given. Perhaps in time I will get over the feeling of wanting to go through the morning sickness, the little kicks and jabs from the inside, the hours of labor and seeing my baby take his or her first breath, the late nights of breastfeeding and cuddling, the learning about the world all over again, watching my children form life-long bonds of love and friendship with each other, the tight budgets and endless worry.
Then again, maybe I would never get over it. Maybe I would always feel that space, and wonder what would have been. Only time can tell.
(Special thanks to Mel for her post that inspired me to write about my feelings.)
Raffle time is fast approaching, so I want to give you all a friendly reminder that there is still time to donate to a great cause, and get in on the fun! For every dollar that you donate to The March of Dimes Kate at Barefoot Principessa will give you one entry into the drawing of your choice. (And yes, if you have more than one entry, you can use them on different drawings!) The raffle is set to take place on Thursday, and there are some great prizes to be won. Go on over and check out the prize list in her sidebar.
From the March of Dimes website:
"Today in the U.S., 1 in every 8 babies will be born prematurely. Some of them won't survive, and others will have health problems that could last a lifetime. The funds we raise in WalkAmerica support research that saves babies' lives. The mission of the March of Dimes is to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects and infant mortality."
I know that not all of us have spare money just laying around, but if you are able to spare just a dollar or two, you could make a huge difference. I have offered up my dazzling blogging talents (no snickering, please) as a prize. That's right - you could win your choice of a guest blog by me on your site, or a plug for your site on mine. (Oh who are we kidding - win and you'll get both if you like!)
"I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life."
Spiral got called into work the other night, and while he was gone I got a craving for a little something. So I called him up and asked him to bring me home something yummy. "And by yummy", I added, "I mean something sweet."
"I'm glad you clarified" he says sacastically, "because I thought you meant a naked 20 year old."
Hmmmm
I have this friend - maybe you know her? She and I "met" over 4 years ago when we were both pregnant with our daughters (who are both named Gabriella, coincidently). She sent a cozy handmade blanket to my son when he was born 2 years later. We've seen each other through all the ups and downs the years have brought.
She apparently reads my blog, though she prefers to be a lurker. She's been lurking here for quite some time and just recently put two and two together and realized that Christine, author of this blog, is the same Christine she has known for four years. (Looks like she's not getting enough caffine.)
And now my dear frind has tagged me with this musical meme. Hey, what are friends for if not for giving you something to blog on an otherwise slow weekend. So just for you, Jenn, because I love ya!
Random 10 songs from my playlist
1. What is the total amount of music on your playlist?
830 songs (on my mini ipod - I have more on my computer downstairs.)
2. What is the last CD you bought?
Um, I honestly can remember, it's been that long. Spiral bought me the latest Cure CD for Christmas, though.
3. What is the last song you listened to before this message?
All The Pretty Little Horses, wafting from Little Man's room
4. Write down five songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.
5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to (three people and why)?
(This seriously is going to put you into a coma. If you have any respect for me as a writer at all, I'd like to preserve that, so just skip over this and pretend you never saw it.)
I know this is going to knock me down several notches in the respect department, but I have just HAD IT with my hair. Seriously it has been the same for... well, forever! Long and blonde and straight as a board, except for that disasterous experiment in sixth grade with a perm. Oh sure, I have varied the length - just above the shoulder, shoulder length, just below the shoulder, well below the shoulder, (I bet you didn't know how crazy and wild I am!) but other than that, it's the same. I HATE it.
It is particularly on my nerves as of late. First of all it's way too long - maybe 6 inches below my shoulders. Just in case I've never mentioned the wind before, it is freaking windy here! So if I go outside without my hair all tied up it becomes this horrible nest of mess about my head.
I also have bangs, due to the unfortunate incidences (yes, that's plural) in my early childhood requiring stitches in my forehead. Now 27 years later the scars really are pretty faint, but the bangs remain because I just look funny to myself without them. (Not terribly fashionable, but a friend of mine so lovingly told me that bangs make you look younger. Is this true, or was she just being nice?)
I am in DESPERATE need of a haircut. Not one of those Super Cuts "just trim it up" cuts, but a total hair make-over. The problem is I don't know what to do with it. So I've been sitting on that excuse for months (yes, months) while my hair just continues to grow. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO??
I have several gift cards from Christmas and my birthday, including one to a local spa, where I would like to go get my hair cut and styled, and top it off with a facial. Then I would like to take the rest of the day to get myself something wonderful to wear (including some fun "underthings"), some new books, and then finish off the day at the local coffee shop where I will drink tea and blog, and break the hearts of all the boys who will then be hitting on me. (Hey, a girl can dream, right?)
So the only thing keeping me from my day of fun is this damn hair. I just need to figure out what to tell the sylist when I sit down in that chair. I can't walk in there and say "I want it different, and pretty. Not too short and not too long."
I don't suppose any of you can help me with this. Spiral, however, is tired of my complaining. Alienating my readers with this crap is my last ditch effort to divine some kind of solution.
It's that time of night - the witching hour. The five o'clock meltdown.
It never fails at right about five o'clock everything starts to come unraveled around here. The kids are getting hungry, and tired. This also happens to be the time of day my previously mentioned chronic irritation kicks in. I've used up all my happy songs for the day. I've run out of feigned excitement over the latest made-up game, as well as compliments for Ella's 132nd dress-up outfit. Spiral, if he isn't working the dinner shift at the restaurant is just getting home, and worn out. He doesn't want to walk into a house full of cranky people. If he is working the dinner shift, then I don't even have a worn out husband to lend a hand.
From five o'clock to eight o'clock (if we are running on schedule) it's a constant three-ring circus here. Trying to get dinner on the table, keeping up with all the kids' needs during that fiasco, cleaning up the kitchen, the nightly Cleaning of the Rooms (which is never a pretty sight), jammies, brush the teeth, stories, hugs, kisses, tickles, lullabies, cuddles, water.... And heaven help me if it's bath night!
There is a strong force out there behind all this chaos. If I could just pin down what it was, perhaps I could find a way alter it in some way. Five o'clock - every single night. Without fail. I dread it. If it made any sense at all I'd change their schedule so that they would be tucked safely into bed before five o'clock rolled around. Of course then they would be up at two in the morning ready to go.
Now if I could just move the family to say, France, five o'clock would become midnight. Maybe that's the answer. Do French children go through this same transformation?
I would like to turn your attention to a very important cause. The lovely Kate of Barefoot Principessa is going to be holding a raffle next week to help raise money for The March of Dimes: Walk America. This well-known organization works to eradicate birth defects and infant mortality. Children's charities are very close to my heart, and when I was contacted to help with this cause, I jumped at the chance.
If you have a talent or skill - anything that you could donate for this raffle, I urge you to do it! By working together we can help save babies like this gorgeous little guy.
I will let you know when the raffle takes place. In the meantime, go on over and visit Kate, and check out all the great prizes she as already amassed for this event, and learn how you can participate.
Down Side: My 20 month old consistantly wakes up at least once between 10:00 pm and 2:00 am. (Is it teeth, illness, cold, hot, lonely, bad dreams, worry over his stock portfolio? We don't know.)
Up Side: I still get to dance in the dark every night with my son to All the Pretty Little Horses, his arms drapes around my shoulders and his soft tiny man breath on my neck. (And he never complains when I lead.)
Brandon at One Child Left Behind shares a revelation he had about marriage recently.
Mamacita at Scheiss Weekly eloquently explains why all good mothers are crazy. This is very well-written, and a must read!
Garrison at Church of Steele has been sharing a very touching series of posts. The first one can be found here.
And finally I'd like to introduce you to a new find of mine. Carmi is a journalist, and it shows in his fabulous writting. Please go over to Written Inc. and take a look, and let him know I sent you!
I just have to digress for a moment here to say that after my "Silent Lucidity" post below and all the wonderful comments I got on it, I feel like I should just say "Thank you and Good Night!" I can't possibly follow that. I have been inspired by all you wonderful people (and you know who you are) to try to write like that more often, and I promise I will - try. However, sometimes I get otherwise occupied with life (or lack of a laptop) and I just want to post something to update my blog. I hope you'll understand, and stick with me through the mediocre. Speaking of mediocre, I'll now return you to your regularly scheduled post:
Have I ever mentioned my love of books? I really do love them. Each one is like an adventure, and after I have read them, like a trusted friend. I rarely borrow books, because I love to own them. Our shelves are overflowing with books.
I have a large "to read" stack, (which includes this, and this, and this.) They are like treasures, with fortunes unknown. How exciting it is to look at them, to pick them up and feel their pages, and not know what adventures await me within them.
I have many, many favorite books (including this one, and this one, and this one.) These are friends that I visit again and again, basking in the warmth of their familiar pages.
I love the feeling I get when I finish a really good book. It is more than just a feeling of not wanting it to end, but an unwillingness to begin another book right away. I want to just sit thinking about the story, and wondering about the characters.
I actually co-founded a bookclub - the Page Three book club. (Imagine our surprise to learn of this. So despite our name, we do not conduct our meetings topless.) We have six members, and we meet once a month, except in December. We have read some really good books, (like this, and this.) We have also read some that were, in my opinion, not so good. (This one springs to mind.) Of course as in any gathering of friends, even though we are there to discuss books, we have a secondary purpose, and that is to get away from our children and husbands for one night a month!
Sadly, I don't have as much time for reading as I would like. I long for the days when I would cuddle up on a cold day with a book and just read and read. Now I'm lucky to finish my book club selection each month and still find the time for one of my own choosing. (Truth be told, this blog addiction of my mine is really cutting into my reading, as you can tell by my sidebar - I have had the same book at the top of my reading list for 2 months. And yes, I do intend to finish that one, even though the season has long past.)
For my birthday I received a gift card to our local book store, and I am excited for the day that I go down and peruse the shelves and decide how to spend it. I don't have any particular book in mind, so it may take me time. (If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them!)
"Alex has lots of good ideas that are naughty!" Labels: quips
I just wanted to thank Michele, for making me the "victim" of her comment game, as well as everyone who stopped by to say hello! I loved having you here, if just for a moment, and sharing a little part of me with you.
I now have the somewhat daunting task of visiting all of your sites, which I am excited to do. My darling husband had the nerve to take his laptop - the one issued to him by his employer - with him out of town on business, which makes my computer time just a bit more limited, so be patient with me.
Also, if you haven't made it over to ViVi's yet, just a reminder that you have nine more days to sign up for the Great International Secret Blog Exchange. Go over and check it out - it will be lots of fun!
Me, all cuddled up with my loving husband: "Would you ever trade me in for a newer model?"
Spiral: "No, never."
pause.....
Spiral: "I might take a loaner while I had you in the shop for repairs..."
*thwunk* (Christine's hand meets the back of Spiral's head.)