Named

When I was about twelve years old and at the height of my childhood akwardness (picture permed hair/big bangs/glasses/braces), I had this fuzzy image of the person I wanted to grow up to be. I wanted to be sophisticated, charming, stunningly intelligent. And, of course, beautiful just like Kelly from Saved by the Bell. Because, hello - then some Zack-like boy would fall in love with me and we'd live happily ever after in Paris.
As I grew older - sixteen, seventeen -, I still wanted to be all of those things. I just added in some other elements - I wanted to be successful, maybe famous, well traveled, and loving. Oh, and beautiful like Jennifer Aniston or Julia Roberts or Nicole Kidman. After all, wouldn't that be the key to finding someone who would love me and even better, really understand me? (and if that person was Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, I'd be okay with it. :) )
In college, the list got longer. I had this idea that I'd like to be political, well versed in all literature, classical music, art. I wanted my world to be filled with books and music and beauty. And that longing that we all have for being understood grew. I actually found what I had thought was going to be a long time coming - love...but still, there was this nagging feeling that I could be better and different, that there was an intimate communion missing. I still floundered to pin down who I'd grow up to become.
Marriage and motherhood and a few more defining years have settled some of this searching - the things most important have come to the surface. Even more, I want my house filled with music and books and love. I've accepted that I'll never be Angelina Jolie (though my husband probably has not) and if I'm never on CNN lecturing for human rights - well, I'll get my opinions across one way or another, in God's specific timing.
I say all of this to say this: we all struggle to define ourselves, to figure out the woman or man that God intended us to be. And we all long to be known - truly known and understood as we are, even if we can't really see ourselves anymore or if those around us don't seem to see us.
I know that I unfairly lay this burden on those in my life, wishing they would 'name' me, to validate who I am.
The truth is - the amazing, hopeful, get me through dry spots and frustrating situations truth- is that the one who intimately understands me and loves me anyway is the same one who tenderly created me to begin with. And no matter how my images of myself change or how my life's requirements stick me in seemingly unbending roles, God still recognizes all of that dream stuff within me. He puts out steps so that little by little, as much as I can on this earth, I'll attain some portion of my desires, and be surrounded by friends that do see beyond the surface of my actions.
And in the life after this one - the life that's going to be so real - I will be exactly and perfectly who I need to be. There will be no more hesitation or wishes for change or cravings to wake up as someone else. He will give me the name that eternally answers the soul's yearning and aching. It will be the most intimate of knowledge - a sweet communion when He recognizes me as being changed into the glory of an eternal body, and still - forever - me. Just a new me, wholly the woman He has always intended.
Which totally beats even happily ever after in Paris.

"I will also give him a white stone, and on the stone a new name is inscribed that no one knows except the one who receives it." Rev. 1:17

Teeny Tiny Update

It has been a while - internet access has been hazy. In a nutshell, here's what you missed - boys got bigger, smarter, louder, faster. A cat adopted us and has now decided to help repopulate the earth (anyone need a kitten?). I started a new novel. And that's all I can come up with at the moment.
And, also, yay! for spring!

Christmas

It's about the cold, crisp air and an endless array of particularly shiny stars...it's the twinkling of lights and the smell of gingerbread...the feel of a warm mug of cocoa in your hands and the firelight reflecting on the faces of those you love...the sound of sacred notes ringing out the Carol of the Bells...the scent of Scotch-tape and the crackle of colorful paper being wrapped around gifts...the anticipation of watching your family and friends discover the present you picked out...the movies aimed directly at warming your heart...the cards that share sentiments not expressed enough throughout the year...it's the kind words and actions...it's children writing notes to Santa and leaving out a plate of cookies...it's Charlie Brown...it's ornaments and laughter...it's a tree covered with memories and children tingling with the mystery of it all...it's time earmarked for loving others.

But most of all, and most importantly - it's about a night that bridged the earth to Heaven. It's about a loving King seeing his people in need and deciding to take action. He wrapped himself up in the form of an innocent, vulnerable baby and entered our realm to live among us...so this most sacred of days is about a love - the love of Christ - that transcends our imagination and sacrifices everything just to win our hearts.

Thanks, Jesus, for the gift of You.

Merry Christmas.

Close Encounter

So my lunch was going well. Grabbed some chicken tenders and the remaining presents I needed. I was driving back to work when I ended up in a turning lane that I didn't need to be in. At the same moment a police car let me back into traffic, I realized that I did not have my seat belt on. So I'm sitting stiffly against my seat, going 'crapcrapcrapcrapcrap'. But I've NEVER been pulled over before, so I was just praying that God would forgive both my bad driving and seat beltlessness and let my clean record continue. But then he followed me into the next lane, onto the next road, and on my following turn. I was praying that it was a coincidence, praying with all my might, and then....
Blue lights.
Me, the girl with the out of date license and no seat belt on - oh. No. No, no, no, no.
So he gets out and mentions the turning lane incident, and then says - "but I pulled you over because your registration has expired. Can I see your license and registration?"
Me - meekly and shaking - "Yes, sir."
I hand him my license and take out the massive amount of car info from the glove compartment, hoping to find something clearly marked registration because I haven't the slightest idea what I'm looking for.
He stands there patiently and finally I say, "I'm so sorry to be such a girl. Can you tell me what it looks like?"
"It's a blue card."
"Oh." There is no blue card to be found and I just start to panic, saying all those wifely "I'm sorry, my husband usually takes care of this stuff' excuses.
"Is this your car, miss?" (As he looks into the backseat and I'm thinking, why didn't I clean out the backseat?)
"Yes, sir."
"When did you get the car?"
"Last October."
He goes to check my license, as it's so painfully obvious that I don't have that registration card.
And I'm thinking, I am in deep, mirelike, maggot infested crap. Because my maiden name is still on that card, along with my parent's address...and I've been married for three years, the car's registered as my new name, and I've had a million different addresses since I moved out. And WHERE IS THAT STUPID BLUE CARD?????
He comes back and I'm waiting for my fate, about to throw up on my steering wheel.
"Okay," he says, "You need to get your husband or whoever takes care of this to do it. Alright?" He uses this voice that clearly communicates that he is second guessing his decision to not give me twenty tickets.
Oh, the angels sing Alleluia!
"Yes, sir. We'll take care of it right away. Thank you."
He nods and goes back to his car and I am very close to hyperventilating.
He follows me almost back to work, and I'm so nervous the entire time. But I managed to keep the car on the road and escaped jail.
This is my Christmas miracle. Thank you, nice officer and nice God.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve!

The hour draws near...it will soon be the day ofPilgrims and Indians, turkeys drawn from elementary school kids' hands with construction paper feathers, a parade through New York City ending with Santa, football games, the smell of pumpkin pie, the aching feeling of eating too much too quickly...oh, Thanksgiving - we love thee, o American holiday that serves all of our lazy, happy indulgences. (Of course, that statement is really for the men and children who do not have to cook or clean up after the biggest meal of the year. Bah, humturkey.) Still, I do like a chance to think over my particular blessings of the year. I have many. They're probably innumerable. So here are some things I am grateful for, the trivial and important...

The Trivial (just 11 points.)

1. Television Without Pity, for it makes me laugh and revels in my own loved television. And, quoting Carrie, the six degrees that lead from there to all the other stuff that I read on line for fun.
2. Friends on DVD. All ten seasons.
3. French Vanilla Creamer in my coffee. Coffee Mate brand. It's the good stuff.
4. A big bathtub to take bubble baths in.
5. Heated seats in my car.
6. Scented candles.
7. Charlie Brown. All the year long.
8. I have to say it. Milk and cookies. Or milk and brownies. Either will do.
9. Diet Dr. Pepper. You knew that was on the list, right?
10. My couch that is wide and pillowy and comfy.
11. Curling irons. For without it, there would never be a good hair day.

The Crucial

1. God's grace and love. Without that, everything else would drain down the pooper.
2. Christian and Sean - two healthy, amazing, happy boys. With all of my mistakes and uncertainties and paranoia...they still seem to be just fine. I'm so so so so unbelievably happy when I see their faces.
3. Neil. Because even with all of our ups and downs, we're still in love and can make each other laugh. He can still make my stomach jump with that certain wink and when he sings, I still feel that 'I have a crush' sensation...
4. Our house. :) I never expected to have a house, complete with a yard and garage and fun Narnia like street lamps so soon...
5. Carrie. It is so amazing to have a friend that understands...pretty much everything. We can send random emails, create alternate universes, commiserate over boys, ruminate the God-matters, squeal or yell over movies/tv/music/books...I'm grateful to have someone with whom I can relish all the good moments and make it through all the bad ones. For all the chocolate, for all the conversation, for watching grown-up shows on a Mickey Mouse tv, for letting small boys drool on you and pull your hair and chase your cats...thanks.
6. My family - my mom, whom I can call and talk to for forever about anything (sometimes in a little too much detail :) ) and my dad, with all of our random debates and deep questions, and just everything that they've given me - they shaped who I am and enabled me to handle this world. My sisters, who are fun and let me borrow clothes and cds and who put up with my crazy moods...my brother, who is sweet and talks city-like and is the best 8 year old uncle in the world.
7. The public library. Seriously. For letting me read so many books for free. With that - literature and writing. Without the world of books, I wouldn't be the person that I am.
8. Good jobs. Particularly my job that allows time for #7.
9. Music. I read something somewhere that we are essentially creatures of noise - down to our heartbeat and breathing in and out...and music touches that core part of us. It's a wonderful way that God gave us to express and feel our emotions.
10. Health and the beauty that is nature and food and medicine and America.


And finally....
This Thanksgiving, I hope that you do not...
Go onto the roof to see a giant cartoon dog balloon loose over the city and lock yourself out of your apartment with dinner burning, accidentally try a piece of pumpkin pie with Mockolate cookie crumb, get roped into a football game with a troll trophy prize that will last until death or frostbite, spend the day in a large box or kiss your ex-boyfriends son, reveal the truth about why you cut off your secret boyfriend's toe and have to put a turkey on your head to make up with him, make an English truffle with a layer of beef sauteed with peas and onions, make a bet that you will not eat dinner until you name all fifty states, have dinner with a guy from high school that founded a club - with the father of your child - based on hating you, forget to ride on the Macey's Parade float or have a fist fight with your sister or break a full box of wedding china reserved for the queen of England, arrive so late to dinner that you're locked out and then get your head stuck in the partly opened door and then when you're set free, don't knock Thanksgiving dinner onto the floor.

I do hope that you laugh a lot and eat a lot and smile. A lot.
Cheers!

catch it and pass it on!

The temperature has finally dropped. Saturday night I wore my pea coat. I've a few decorations on my mantle and I've done a bit of shopping in preparation for my favorite holiday. I've done all of this cheerfully, but not with the Christmas glee that usually hits me at some point during the season. And Sunday night, the Christmas spirit arrived at the most unlikely moment.
I was annoyed for various reasons, had put the kids to bed, and was washing dishes. My mom had called earlier to ask if I had borrowed her Jessica Simpson Christmas CD. I did borrow it, in the middle of the summer, and had forgotten about it. So I put it into the cd player to listen while finishing up the kitchen duties. And somewhere between Jessica and Nick crooning 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' and my favorite Christmas song, 'O Holy Night,' it hit me. The tingling sensation that you first feel as a kid and love to feel as an adult. Good will to earth and peace to men and such...angels and sparkles and the smell of scotch tape. Then yesterday I walked through a lot of real trees ready to be taken home...and that piney smell was almost enough to make me swoon. I busted out the Mariah Carey christmas cd - one of the best ever made. I've been listening to it, literally, every year since sixth grade. This year is even more special because Sean can say 'Jesus' and point to the baby in the manger in all of his Christmas books...he knows how to say 'snowman' and I'll let him eat a christmas cookie or two...and this is Christian's first Christmas...so we get a new ornament and stocking...we get to decorate our new house...we're having a decorating party with aunt Carrie...I'm just blissful with the holiday season. It's a celebration of Jesus and it's a celebration of family and friends. I guess that's why I love it so much. Everyone is supposed to be together and happy and loving. It's the rule. That's the way it should be all year long, but the time to do that just seems to disappear. I know I am rambling and sounding all Seventh Heaven...but that's just how I feel today!
So you're infected now. Whether you like it or not.
Tomorrow I'll get my holidays back in order and focus on Thanksgiving...(yay parades!)....

A Mommy Moment

From the moment I arrived home yesterday and was told that Sean had not yet had his nap, I was in mental preparation. I strategized. Feed the babies, bathe the babies, lure the babies to sleep. They were tired. It would, for once, have to work. Therefore, they were just the cutest doing all of the above. Christian gave me his toothy, appreciative grin with each bite of peaches, every spoonful of rice and broccoli. Sean started the meal with a 'yet's pray' and kept his squinchy smiley face on as he dove into his plate and ate his way back out of it. They were splashy and giggly through bathtime and semi-cooperative as they were wriggled into pajamas. I turned off the light in their bedroom, switched on the nightlight and snuggled Sean into his finding Nemo blanket. And (I admit it) turned on good ol' Monster's Inc. Nothing like a movie about monsters to get my two year old to snoozing. Christian and I sat there by Sean's bed on top of the kiddy table until, sure enough, Sean's hazel eyes closed and he started emitting the heavy breathing, slightly snorish sound that signals his slumber. As a bonus, Christian was rubbing his eyes and looking a little dazed. So I rushed to make him a warm bottle of milk, snuggled him into his bed, and ta da - out like a cute little light.
What to do? Two babies in bed and one mommy alone to do as she wishes. And then it happened. I did exactly what I wanted to do. I made hot chocolate and snuggled into my couch with a blanket and a book. This may not sound earth shattering to most people, but for me...it was like a little slice of heaven right there in my living room. Peace reigning in the house. I'm sure there were angels singing lullabys into my ventilation system.
And for about 15 minutes, that perfect moment endured.
After the 15 minutes? Well....Neil came home for work, I cooked dinner, Christian woke well rested and ready for action, and Sean woke up screaming like he was being attacked by five eyed, horned, winged elephants because he was SO mad to have opened his eyes, and I had to lie down beside of him -our backs touching, but only barely or the screams would reignite - to get him back to sleep. Total peace, total chaos.
As I was rocking Christian, I realized how much more I appreciate those peaceful moments now - and how much I appreciate the chaotic ones. Because as crazy as it might be sometimes, I know that one day these years are gonna' be like that perfect 15 minutes in my memory - and probably, I'm gonna' want them back.

Keep Walking

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way.

~J.R.R. Tolkien

There is nothing like...

~Watching a two year old being alternately afraid and fascinated by cats....touch and run, look and leap!
~eating brownies and criticizing television with your best friend...
~a ten month's old laughter echoing through the house because he is SO thrilled to be standing up beside of his big brother
~that same baby boy being sat in a tiny yellow chair and swinging his feet back and forth like a big kid, so excited!
~ when in the middle of Target, your own child goes boneless so that he is pure, immovable weight and then when you pick him up, screams out 'Help! Help!' Like he is being kidnapped.

appropriate quote

"Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue."
~Eugene O'Neill

Mr. Clean

Sean discovered over this past weekend the joy of writing on the walls. When I took the stray crayon away from him, he proceeded to pick up a toy of some sort and pretend it was a crayon. Thus creating scuff marks all over the place. So, I picked up a magic eraser made by Mr. Clean. Thinking, yeah right. No way it's as easy as the back of the box advertises. But sure enough, some water and a few swipes later, the damage had been repaired.


What I really, really wish is that someone could invent a magic eraser for the heart. I've been trying to sort out why it is that letting go of things is the most difficult feat we must master. Is time the ultimate healer, really? When touched, those briars clinging to my emotions still sting just as much now as when they were first stumbled into. When it comes to the hurtful things said to us or done to us by the people we love the most, is there truly a time when it doesn't hurt anymore or is the healing rather the ability to endure those remembrances and keep moving forward? Because there are certain things that - no matter what - will always, always hurt me. Will they always be gut-wrenching?
What I need to know is how to not let those things hinder who I am and the relationship that I have now. What is God's role in this? To help us deal with the pain or to take it away completely? Is it my own static cling that stops him from making it disappear?

My little journey is making progress, I think. If only to let me see myself honestly.
I see that to get anywhere I must surrender all things. Not just the convienent things, but also those that I would probably like to keep. Those that I justify.

I want to want to be like Christ. Step one, right?

Late Fragment

by Raymond Carver

And did you get what

you wanted from this life even so?

I did.

And what did you want?

To call myself beloved, to feel myself

beloved on the earth.

Pilgrim's Progress

The last few weeks have been a wasteland of medicines and fevers and tissues and an intense longing to lie down. Always. And that means babies and me. We're on the upside now. At last. Breathing through my nose has ceased to be a constant struggle and the coughing only comes at the inconvienent times. Such as answering the phone, trying to sleep, or rocking a child to sleep. Or eating. Or now. Ok, so I still have a cough. But that's better than wishing to rip my head off.

So. I had a nice long talk with myself last night. It's no secret that I've been an emotional weeble-wobble over the last few months...year....years....whatever. It's just been getting worse, though - the inner angst of frustration, anger, weird sadness. It's just too easy for me to lose the happy spin on things. So last night I really said, ok. What's up with this? Where's that happy, peaceful, annoyingly optimistic girl that I used to be??
Here's what I figured out.
I realize that a lot of unexpected things have whirlwinded through my life in the past 3 years. I also know that my life has never been perfect. Though on a different emotional scale than the new stuff, I still had to deal with things....but here's how I dealt with it. I had a real, tangible relationship with God. And of course, I have a nodding acquaintance with Him now but it's not the same. I pray with the kids and whisper those 'please please help me' prayers through the day. And I think about God-stuff, especially when I write. But back then...I could unload my heart. I could write out prayers or sit in my bed and talk to Him. Like crying, ranting, telling Him what hurt talks. And I read that Bible. And used it. There was a real peace there - there was strength for the taking - and I took it. I truly experienced the way that God can sustain even through crap. There's that inner peace beyond understanding. It is totally possible for a circumstance to suck and yet be okay about it. It's the attitude towards the circumstance that matters.
I'm not sure when I lost that knowledge. Or at least stopped making it a part of my life. Probably about the same time that I started crossing the line of my standards in college and was plagued with a little monster named Shame. And since then...there have been things to happen that I can't change. Circumstances beyond my control that affect everything about me. And I haven't been able to deal with it because I've been unable to use the source of help that is RIGHT THERE.

I don't have a real, unchanging joy because I've been treating it like...like...like vegetables. Like I eat veggies every day because they're pretty good and I know I should. But I'm not head over heels for carrots. God-Time should be like chocolate, fudgy, warm, whip cream topped yum and a huge perfectly flavored French Vanilla coffee. In a bubble bath. With candles. And a fantastic book.
Basically, the thing I long for always.

So this is the time. The time to reacquaint myself with the God that I claim to live for and yet keep in the back of my life. It's time for a pilgrimage of sorts. I'm claiming this month as the month to concentrate on all of this.
And quite likely...quite possibly, get the most important part of myself back. Because, as it's been said a million quadrillion times, we are most ourselves when in tune with the one who made us who we are.

And here's something that I thought was funny. Euguenia Price was talking about how we expect God to fulfill our desires that we have come up with in our own twisted, not God focused ways...

She says: "God will not satisfy your neurotic longings.
He would be a fiend if He did."

But rather He fulfills like this...."For it pleased the Father that in Him should all fullness dwell..."

He is enough. And in Him we find the other things that are good and pure and beneficial for us happening...we find our real dreams realized.

I WANT THAT.

High

I am slightly intoxicated on the air this morning. As soon as I opened my front door and stepped onto the front porch, flashbacks started coming to me. It smells just like mornings in high school, when I'd get to school and we'd stand around in the courtyard until the bell...and then I'd rush off through the emptying cafeteria into the band/chorus room. Aaaaahh...and that particular angle of sunshine hitting us with that chill in the air brings me back to rushing out of the dorm at UNC just to have enough time to stop at the shop next door for a cup of coffee to desperately clutch as I walked to class...I miss school. Message to anonymous- I know it's not very fun right now but HOLD on until college. You're gonna' love it. You'll love the professors and notes and sports and having your own space...
And in response to your question, I have seen Casablanca. It is one of my all time favorites. "Here's lookin' at you, kid..."
Now I have been told to work. Later, ya'll.

Snapshots

Moments of bliss from the past week...

Saturday weather roll the windows down perfect, with a frappaccino in the cupholder, the miseducation of lauryn hill blasting through the car speakers, and a long stretch of highway ahead.

Stimulating conversation at the Steak and Shake at 11:30 pm and nothing to rush away to except sleep.

Having your room bumped up to the preferred guest floor...expecting to walk into a smallish double bed scenario and instead opening the door to a king sized bed, kitchen, sitting room...

Falling asleep and staying asleep until your body is rested enough to wake up all on its own...getting up and making coffee, then taking it back to bed with a book.

Showering, dressing, applying make up....taking sweet, precious time.

Strolling through the mall, catching a movie...the easy life.

Rushing to the front door to see a two year old grin and say "Mama mama mama daddy daddy!" and say, can I have a hug?, and he says 'no.' But hug him anyways and grab the baby who slobbers all over you and you know you're home.

Driving the hour and a half road back to the home address with a small to-go pizza in the front seat, Friends in the DVD player, and the kids asleep in their car seats.

Two days off to play in the sunshine...

and back to work. But work is just fine because I started my three days of business off with a trip to the library...
Yesterday I read Quinlin's Estate, by David Ryan Long (author of faithinfiction.blogspot.com)...it's so suspensful that you cannot help but devour it. Today I have read F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, finally. It left me unsatisfied. I didn't need a happy ending, per se...just all of the characters fully developed. I guess that's one sign of a good book...to keep wondering about the characters after the conclusion of the novel, but it's kind of annoying in my brain where I already have enough voices living. Ha ha.
I've started Tolstoy's War and Peace. So far, so good...
It's pretty overwhelming to attempt to read all of the 'classics'. It's not a small category...and today I read a list of the best 100 novels since 1923, as decided by the Times critics. It is appalling how few of those I have read. So after the Russian authors, we move on to that list. Because even though it is a list based on their opinions, that 100 is obviously comprised of influential works. I wish that I could get snowed in at the library.

And there we are.

In This Town....

Last night a Daisy requested prayer for her goat's leg, which got stuck in a tree.

The McDonald's sign says: Now hiring. Now interbiewing.

On the way to work, I was stuck behind a truck traveling at 10 miles an hour because it was towing a cow.

Just a Theory

SUN-

WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?? It has been dreary for several days now...and I'm in need of VITAMIN E, SKY CONTROLLER PEOPLE!!!!

Seriously, it has GOT to be a conspiracy. See if this makes sense to you...scientists have come up with a way to create rain by seeding clouds...so they can probably do all sorts of weatherish things.

Say the economy needs a little shot of adrenaline...give a state a week of gloomy weather and watch the coffee sales soar! See people crowded at the movies! Pay-Per-View marathons will pepper the suburbs! Malls will have no empty parking spots because bad weather is depressing if it lasts for more than a day and people who are depressed have no choice but to resort to SHOPPING.

I'm sure of it. We are being manipulated by the very sky under which we live.

I Am

I Am by Ginny Owens

"No, Lord," he said/"You've got the wrong guy./Simple conversation gets me tongue-tied/And you're telling me to speak with a maniac king/I wonder if I've lost my mind?"/"And besides, I am weak/Don't you want someone strong to lead them out of Egypt/When they've been there so long/And anyway they won't believe You ever spoke to me..."/"That's not your problem," God replied/And the rest is history/Chorus: "There's a bigger picture you can't see,You don't have to change the world, just trust in Me/I am your Creator, I am working out My plan/And through you, I will show them I am."/"Now, Lord, are You sure?/He's just a shepherd boy./Too small for battle gear, with a giant to destroy?/What on earth can he do with five stones and a sling?"/"It's not your problem," God replied/"Cause I can do anything!"

I am the first, I am the last/I am the present and the past/I am tomorrow and today/I am the only way

"Great Lord," she said/"I'm just a simple girl./You say that I will bring your Son into the world?/How can I understand this thing You're gonna do?"/

"That's not your problem," God replied-

There's a bigger picture you can't see, You don't have to change the world, just trust in Me.

I am your Creator, I am working out My plan,

And through you, I will show them I am.

Untitled

I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. Sean was better as of Saturday afternoonish, but as a joke on me, Christian woke up in the middle of Sunday night with a fever. He's pretty much recovered as of today...but I'm not. I'm a little tired and shut down. I can't imagine life without my babies, but sometimes I just feel too young for this. People generally take that as a joke when I say it in my exasperated, can you believe it tone of voice but...sometimes it's really the way I feel. Because maybe, if I were older by a few years, I'd have a little more patience with the constant neediness...maybe I'd know just a little bit better how to remember that a 100 temperature is not that high, as the advice nurse felt she needed to point out. Ok, sorry. It seemed high to me and to my miserable baby.
And I get so...homesick for Neil. That sounds funny, but sometimes it just hits me. I was rocking Alex to sleep and watching Under the Tuscan Sun...I got to that scene were Diane (I can't remember her movie name) meets Marcello and they get lost in each other...laughing and walking on the beach and spending hours just being...we never have time to do that. We have minutes, when we're lucky. Even at that particular moment I was trying to get Chtoristian to sleep and he was with Sean...which is all good and needed and we are so in love with our kids...but sometimes I feel like we're in separate rooms more than in the same one. And I know that relationships - especially marriages- have to be built on more than that...on the faith and commitment part...but I miss the having your own little world part. The moments that make you remember that you're in love and are so lucky to be spending your life with your best friend.
I know that this is a phase...and the good thing is that we want to be together more...and the kids will only be this age once...I know all those things.
Some days it's just hard.

You Have GOT to be Kidding

A mind-bender. A riddle. A puzzler, if you will.

If sick to your stomach for three days...and all last night spent in the loo, why oh why would a person decide to eat SPICY BUFFALO WINGS for lunch today?

And why, please somebody tell me why, would you call your wife from the bathroom to groan about the resulting relapse and expect SYMPATHY???

So are the days of my husband's life.

Haz-Mat

People, they do not warn you about this stuff in 'what to expecting when expecting' books.
Let me tell you about a little thing called a stomach virus.
There has been vomiting. Not with the coughing, choking noise that signals danger so that you can carry your child and hold them over the toilet/bathtub/trash can/Dad's shoes. No...it's more of the 'hmmm...let's check on Sean 'cause he's quiet' variety and there, before his perfectly calm figure, is a huge orange, textured, puddle. Puts me in mind of shag carpeting. We're keeping score on the carpet stains-poop vs puke. I bought this new Resolve stuff yesterday that even comes with its own brush-so come on, it's gotta' work- and no. Definite fading, but how do you de-colorize carpet??? So, at last check, there were two huge puke stains and one nice spotted, trailing poop stain. Which is simply a darker shade of orange than the others.
Which brings me to the poop. I'm surprised that my hands have any remaining skin, as much as I've had to wash them...this stuff is toxic. I'm talkin' one little spurt, and you're considering just trading the kid in for a new model 'cause that little behind is NEVER going to smell clean again...and the worst part is that it's pure liquid. It looks exactly like something people are forced to drink on Fear Factor. The Pull-Ups Runneth Over....yeah. Why hasn't someone invented Diaper Reinforcements for diarrhea? Something like a period pad or the little slidy thing you put under a George Forman Grill to catch the grease. Anything to help prevent the 'ok, just put him in the bathtub' diaper changes and Good Lord, catch Christian before he crawls in Sean's wake.
And sleep is disrupted by most definitely necessary changes...which prompted him this morning at 2 am, to lean forward and give me a little kiss on the lips and to swing his little arm in his odd cheer and say 'Let's GO!'- the phrase I love that he says when he gets up in the morning...it signals - hey, playtime. Awake time. Drink juice time. Anything but sleepy time...2 am. 2 AM. Is there NOT a sleeping pill meant for two year olds?
And in the midst of all this on Thursday morning, the healthy Christian woke up at 5:45 and as I fixed him his morning milk, peed all over me and the kitchen floor.
When I am old and they have to take care of me, I swear I'm going to completely stop controlling my bowels.