Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Anytime, Fall...

I'm tired of sweating. I'm tired of making Hannah get into a hot car and car seat. Summer has worn out her welcome.

I used to be a summer girl. Couldn't wait for the long days, beach trips, being tan, those balmy nights that have no need for a sweater.

I'm not really sure when that all changed. Maybe contempt for the summer began when I no longer went to school and had to work year round and it turned into nothing more than an uncomfortable commute home. I'm positive that my husband has something to do with it. He loves nothing more than cold, gloomy weather. When others get depressed with the shorter days and longer night, he is like a kid on Christmas. Anyhow, it's rubbed off on me and now I am begging for the Fall to come.

Pumpkins, sweaters, candles, baking, blankets, socks, saying the word "crisp", Halloween costumes, Thanksgiving, sweet potatos, cool walks under the trees, tea....

Oh I can go on!

Too bad the Fall doesnt start here until November.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Bouyant and Boisterous

We went to the beach today. It was hot, even there. This morning, I really didn't feel like going at all. I had to force myself to pack the towels, make sandwiches, slather sunscreen all over Hannah but I knew I needed to get out of the house and that I'd have good company.

We met up with Jackie, her mom, and her two little girls and then another friend DeAnna came. I didn't know DeAnna was going to come but she a breath of fresh air and I was thrilled to see her. She's one of those people who are always a drop of golden sun, but it never gets annoying - a rare gift.

So we were all sitting on our beach chairs, the kids content to play in the sand when DeAnna stood up, smiled, and shouted "Toni!" Across the beach was a very large blond woman in a moo moo waving back. It was just a coincidence and she was there with another friend. I watched Toni take off her moo moo and run toward the water with wreckless abandon, one of her kids being dragged in with her.

It was a sight. When I say "large", we're talking 300 lbs - easy. But it was beautiful. She didn't care at all. She was having a grand time taking her kids out in the water. She was loud, running up and down the beach, teasing her kids, plucking them in and out of the water. DeAnna was telling me that Toni loves to take her kids out into the deeper water. She just puts them right on her hip and swims out there and she and child just stay afloat. She even offered to take DeAnna out that way. Can you imagine? Who can find a bouyant and boisterous woman? Made my day!

Sunday, August 20, 2006

All I know is that I don't know...

All I know is that I don't know nothin'! My favorite Operation Ivy song says it for me. I really don't know anything. That's it.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Old people

Yesterday I met up with my darling grandma and grandpa. They are the cutest, but most exhausting old couple you'll ever meet. My grandmother (Nanie) is madly in love with my daughter and calls often to see how she is and what she is doing at that moment. She just loves her and it always feels good to be around people who are as fond of your kid as you are. Hannah loves her great grandmother and indulges her with kisses, hugs, giggles, and won't even come to me when she has her Nanie. So we met up at my mom's house which is a good half way spot for both of us.

At the sweet old couple's arrival we exchanged hugs and kisses and Hannah immediately took Nanie as her new favorite person and played and was in a state of bliss. Grandpa (Papa Henry) has suffered from several brain hemmorages and is not the same man he once was. My grandma now wears the pants and bosses him around mercilessly. For the most part he just puts up with it. She nags him to comb his hair, fix his pants, fetch her whatever she wants, pick up the dog sh** (her words not mine), and tells me just about every time I'm with them that she has put him on a diet.

So, after visiting at my mom's house, we all loaded up my little car and went to lunch. We decided we all wanted "sangwidges". Oh yeah, my family has it's own dialect at times. Sangwidges = sandwiches, spoom = spoon, chilgren = children. It used to drive me nuts when my grandmother would say grace before a meal and thank the Heavenly Father for her chilgren, and her chilgren's chilgren. We all ordered our sangwidges (Mimi's has an awesome veggie sandwich - so good), and Nanie was pestering my dear old Papa to not eat too much. This is pretty much where he draws the line. You don't mess with his meal. I try to mediate, and tell her that it's really not that much food. Let him eat his tuna and avocado in peace. Thankfully Hannah diverted her attention so Papa scarfed up the rest of his lunch, leaving a few fries.

While I sort of take my Papa's side, I can't imagine having to take everything on like my grandmother has. Papa took care of everything. He did the banking, any type of handy work, and even pumped the gas for my grandma's car before she took it out. Then one day all of it was gone with horrible seizure and a type of annurism. He gets angry some days. He'll find a receipt for something with a large purchase and be irate that my grandmother is mismanaging all his money. He doesn't know what day it is (which, heck, sometimes I don't either) and is getting increasingly clumsy. But I have to say I admire the pair. Nanie and Papa Henry have been married for over 55 years. Like any marriage, there is a better and a worse involved. I don't want to overly romanticize them, they are like every one else. But there is hope in seeing an ancient couple still bickering, yet still having moments of grace, hoosing to let him eat all his meal without further complaint and enjoy holding a baby. Just letting stuff go...

When Jason came home that afternoon after work he held Hannah and said she smelled like an old lady.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Wrote this after seeing another dismantled body of an Lebanese baby girl

The Hollywood diversion
Our greatest perversion
Politicians lie
While babies die
We give the funds
Watching reruns
Patriotic and Proud
Mothers cry aloud
Drive your Escalade
It’s all a charade
Fake it til you make it
Freedom, they will take it
Keep shopping
There’s no stopping
Want it all, want it now
Don’t bother asking how

by Lauren S.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

I hate my carpet.

My carpet is filthy. We have a tiny little shoe box house which I am learning to love, and I have noticed that small places clutter up and get dirty fast. When you walk through the door you are in the heart of our house. The carpet, the couch, the tv, they're all there. The kitchen is to the immediate left and I won't get into the linoleum I despise. But the carpet, oh the carpet. It is a light berberish type and it really wasn't horrible when we moved in. I don't know what happened, well I suppose I do know what happened. I have a Hannah, and a husband. I have a husband who likes to set his IPA on the floor next to the sofa and a Hannah who loves to knock it over. Yeah, beer doesn't smell too great when it satturates carpet. There is a plethora of other stains accompanying the various beer stains. Lets see, we've got the old stand by's - milk, juice, a little pee when someone decided she did'nt want to wear her diaper, different types of food, we also so have water stains. Yes, did you know water stains? Apparently the water, when not dried quickly will pick up dirt from ones shoe or perhaps a dog's paw, and there you have a new stain. I'm at the point that I've stopped caring. Something is spilt and I simply dab it with a towel and move on with my life. I guess that's a positive.

Anyway, I know I'm supposed to be thankful that I have carpet and a house and blah blah blah. And yeah, I am. But I haven't told you about the deck in the back yard that is being built. Jason is amazingly talented and has a vision for this house, God bless him. One of the upsides of buying an old shoe box for a house is that it comes with a decent sized lot. I would have been fine just cleaning up the back a bit and doing some basic landscaping and would have rather focused the rest of our time, money, and energy into the house itself, such as oh, I don't know, new flooring. Maybe new windows, a bathroom remodel. Jason explained that floors should be the last thing to be done as they could be damaged during other remodels. Well fine. So in the meantime he is building this ginormous deck outside. It's big. It will be beautiful. I love it. I still hate my carpet and I am jealous as all hell that he gets to do his project first. How six years old am I?

And everyone I know seems to have these big beautiful houses with all new everything. Sometimes my evil human side gets to me and I want it all and I want it now. I am praying for contentment. I need to find friends with small houses and bad carpet. Why does knowing someone with the same condition make me feel better?

Anyway, today Hannah and I are going to try to get out of the house. We've kind of been couped up. I'm trying to not spend money so I've been avoiding going shopping and our friends have been on vacation. Everyone seems to have such busy summers. We are having pizza tonight with a couple we have Bible Study with so I don't have to worry about making dinner tonight. Praise the Lord!

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Deat!

A converstation I just had with my daughter.

Hannah: Deat!

Me: You want to eat?

Hannah: Deat!

Me: Do you want a sandwich?

Hannah: Noooo.

Me: A quesadilla?

Hannah: No! (about to cry)

Me: Well Hannah, I don't know what you want. How 'bout a cracker?

Hannah: NOOOO! (Now crying and throwing a tantrum. She is pointing to the kitchen)

We go to the kitchen, she points to the fridge. Open the fridge and she throws herself in the direction of the pickle jar.

Me: Oh, you would like a pickle?

Hannah: (still sobbing) Yeeeaaah.

There is peace once again in the house. While she chomps on the pickle she picks up The Hot Chick DVD and hands it to me.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

The Exclamation Point

I was emailing some friends of mine and I realized I have an intense need to use the exclamatioin point as much as possible. How annoying. What does this say about me?

I wonder if it has anything to do with me wanting to appear as though I have everything together. This habitual overuse of the stated punctuation may be the key to my understanding my own need to please others. I wonder what other "exclamation points" I have in my life masking the true state of my heart. In general, life is good. But it doesn't call for an exlcamation point at the end of every sentence.

How do I get rid of this habit? How do I rejoice in the truth of myself?

Instead of telling "white lies" I will tell the truth. In stead of listening to popular music that is crap, I will find some music I truly enjoy. Instead of dressing to please others and feeling completely uncomfortable with the selection, I will wear what suits me. And I will limit my use of the exclamation point to it's intended purpose. Period.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Why can't we just be normal?

This is a question that goes through my mind when I am worrying what other people think about me. I say "we" because I like to blame my weirdness on my good husband. This question comes up at my lowest state. And well, that happens a lot. Instead of being content in any situation and trusting in the Lord and all that, I go to the dark side where everything sucks, no one likes me. It is here that I am at my lamest. It is at my lamest that God scoops me and helps me remember the world doesn't revolve around me.