Although excited, I was also nervous about this trip. On the day of departure I actually laid on my bed for a few moments to try and calm myself down. I fought against the urge to curl into the fetal position and hum myself into oblivion. Laundry, packing, cleaning--it just wasn't going to come together the way I had hoped. Well, I survived, and not only that, I had a WONDERFUL, SMOOTH, MEMORABLE vacation. (You were so right Darlene!) Thank you for your prayers--I know they helped me to relax and to have a safe, fun time. In fact, it was hard to leave. I'm sure I will write more about hunting for shells, seeing alligators, and playing Dance Revolution with my cool, hip nieces. Thanks for hanging around.
So, what have YOU been up to?
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Are You the Praying Type?
And I hope you are feeling generous.
Very soon, maybe too soon, my little family and I will be boarding a red-eye flight cross country. I'm just a teensy bit nervous.
What's the worst that could happen?
Okay, bad question.
What's the worst that will most likely happen?
Crying cranky children for 4+ hours in an aircraft filled with tired people who would like a little rest. Please don't let that be us. Please?
It's just a few hours.
It's just a few hours.
It's just a few hours.
It's just a few HOURS! (Ow. Chest is tightening)
I'll miss my handful of loyal readers, but when I get back, if there is anything interesting to tell, I'll blab all about it. In the meantime, have a lovely lovely Presidential weekend. (And if it's not asking too much, will you utter just a little prayer in my behalf? Thank you.)
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Extra! Extra! Read all about it!
Happy Valentine's Day!
Did you know that Compulsive Writer hosted a story-telling contest in honor of Valentine's day? There are some really fun entries. You can read them here and vote for your favorite.
Have fun!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Share the Love
Do you like carrot jello? I do. So when I heard she was doing a 50 states in 15 days tour, I knew I had to do something. My new friend (okay, we've never met, but she did comment on my blog before), carrotjello, was challenged by her husband to get visitors from each of the 50 states to post a comment on her blog. If she does it in 15 days, she gets $50.00 bucks and a weekend away. Be a part of history. Check out her blog and see what states are remaining. Come on! Share the love!
Monday, February 12, 2007
Love Sweet Love
My mom gave me this cute towel and my husband photographed it. Every time I look at it, I will think of people I love. I love how something so simple can cheer me. Thanks guys!
Friday, February 9, 2007
A Stroller Story
When my nine year old son was two, we would sometimes walk his sister to kindergarten. One day on our walk home, I was chatting with a neighbor and my toddler was screeching and twisting in the stroller, struggling to get out. Finally, frustrated and wanting to be able to have 2 minutes of adult conversation, I let him out . He bolted down a long stretch of grass directly toward a busy street. Moving at top speed, he did not slow as he neared the curb. I ran screaming, “Stop! Stop!” No response. No slowing. Then, miraculously, he stopped abruptly at the curb. My heart throbbed and I picked him up winded and shaking. (That was me who was winded and shaking. My son was grinning and I think I saw a glint in his eye.)
This is the same child I mentioned yesterday who is preparing to be a great scientist. He is incredibly curious, energetic, and swift--a dangerous combination. I should mention that he is also incredibly tender, affectionate, and fun. All my toddlers (I’m on my seventh currently) have been challenging and lovable. Parenting toddlers has been tremendously trying. It has often brought me to my knees -- in prayer, in pleading, and let’s not forget, in wiping, scooping, mopping, scrubbing, and last but not least, in complete exhaustion. On tough days (read months), I have even exclaimed, “I am SO done with toddlers!” But through it all, I have had my share of cuddles, scribbled love notes, and spontaneous expressions of,”I love you!” I think I’ve even learned a thing or two.
Today, seven years later, I made another walk to kindergarten with my stroller, and a two year old. We’ve been making this walk for over five months and have marked our path with familiar stopping points ( the stop sign, the yellow boat, the CURB!). For several weeks now, I have let my two year old out of the stroller for the walk home. Instead of making life-threatening sprints toward the street, he knows how and where to stop and how to hold on to the stroller when we cross the street. Today, for the first time I let him walk both ways to school as I pushed an empty stroller. As we went along, my neighbor commented. “You’re not going to need that stroller much longer.” Everything froze for an imperceptible instant. Years of sleep deprivation, potty training and endless spills, messes, and accidents raced through my brain. I could even remember the words of my dear, wise mother-in law saying, “you’ll weep as you bear and raise them and you’ll weep when you’re done.” Not me, I had begun to think. After years of feeling stretched to capacity and beyond, I was pretty sure I would feel at peace about it all--maybe even do a little jig.
But suddenly, I feel like screaming again at my little toddler who is out of the stroller, “Stop! Stop!” And the thought of packing away my stroller makes me want to cry.
This is the same child I mentioned yesterday who is preparing to be a great scientist. He is incredibly curious, energetic, and swift--a dangerous combination. I should mention that he is also incredibly tender, affectionate, and fun. All my toddlers (I’m on my seventh currently) have been challenging and lovable. Parenting toddlers has been tremendously trying. It has often brought me to my knees -- in prayer, in pleading, and let’s not forget, in wiping, scooping, mopping, scrubbing, and last but not least, in complete exhaustion. On tough days (read months), I have even exclaimed, “I am SO done with toddlers!” But through it all, I have had my share of cuddles, scribbled love notes, and spontaneous expressions of,”I love you!” I think I’ve even learned a thing or two.
Today, seven years later, I made another walk to kindergarten with my stroller, and a two year old. We’ve been making this walk for over five months and have marked our path with familiar stopping points ( the stop sign, the yellow boat, the CURB!). For several weeks now, I have let my two year old out of the stroller for the walk home. Instead of making life-threatening sprints toward the street, he knows how and where to stop and how to hold on to the stroller when we cross the street. Today, for the first time I let him walk both ways to school as I pushed an empty stroller. As we went along, my neighbor commented. “You’re not going to need that stroller much longer.” Everything froze for an imperceptible instant. Years of sleep deprivation, potty training and endless spills, messes, and accidents raced through my brain. I could even remember the words of my dear, wise mother-in law saying, “you’ll weep as you bear and raise them and you’ll weep when you’re done.” Not me, I had begun to think. After years of feeling stretched to capacity and beyond, I was pretty sure I would feel at peace about it all--maybe even do a little jig.
But suddenly, I feel like screaming again at my little toddler who is out of the stroller, “Stop! Stop!” And the thought of packing away my stroller makes me want to cry.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
In the Name of Science
Here's another memoir--enjoy!
Conference was great! I have to admit I slept through a few talks in the p.m. sessions--chalk it up to MYCLOSeD LIDs (Mother Of Young Children Lack Of Sleep Disorder, Long, Indefinite Duration).
In other news, I think my son is practicing to become a scientist. Not long ago he conducted an experiment to discover the speed at which fluid milk poured from a nearly full gallon container if held directly perpendicular to the floor.
Hypothesis: If I pour this milk onto the floor and the distance between Mom and me is at least 10 yards, Mom's increase in velocity will be insufficient to stop me before the container completely empties.
Result: Hypothesis correct.
For an encore experiment, he tested the strength of eggshells using 2 raw eggs. To ensure its validity, he then repeated the experiment 7 more times. You’ve got to admit, at least he's thorough. Not long after, he attempted to clear three bookshelves of books and to decrease the de-shelving time he enlisted his 1 year old lab assistant. And I can't forget his trial of peanut butter as a skin moisturizer and hair conditioner. This same child looks up at me without warning and utters things like, "I love you, Mom. You're the best mommy."
I love you too, Einstein.
Conference was great! I have to admit I slept through a few talks in the p.m. sessions--chalk it up to MYCLOSeD LIDs (Mother Of Young Children Lack Of Sleep Disorder, Long, Indefinite Duration).
In other news, I think my son is practicing to become a scientist. Not long ago he conducted an experiment to discover the speed at which fluid milk poured from a nearly full gallon container if held directly perpendicular to the floor.
Hypothesis: If I pour this milk onto the floor and the distance between Mom and me is at least 10 yards, Mom's increase in velocity will be insufficient to stop me before the container completely empties.
Result: Hypothesis correct.
For an encore experiment, he tested the strength of eggshells using 2 raw eggs. To ensure its validity, he then repeated the experiment 7 more times. You’ve got to admit, at least he's thorough. Not long after, he attempted to clear three bookshelves of books and to decrease the de-shelving time he enlisted his 1 year old lab assistant. And I can't forget his trial of peanut butter as a skin moisturizer and hair conditioner. This same child looks up at me without warning and utters things like, "I love you, Mom. You're the best mommy."
I love you too, Einstein.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Macaroni Mom
Today I read through a few journal entries and a couple of talks I have written. I had completely forgotten about the following incident. “The other day I took my two oldest children with me to do some shopping. A., age 4 and M. age 2. Our third stop was a hasty trip to the grocery store and by the time we were in the checkout lane, I was wishing we were home. M. was persistently begging me for a cookie while his heavy eyelids threatened to close at any moment. And A. was earnestly petitioning me for a bag of Cheetos. M. handed me a couple of items as I hurriedly unloaded our cart and hoped we could quickly exit.
When we had unloaded all of the groceries, I left M. in the cart and the woman behind us smiled as she handed M. a small package of macaroni and asked, “Would you like to help me?” He happily placed the package down and was soon engrossed in aiding this perceptive woman. I think she let my son place almost every item of hers on the conveyor belt for her.
It was such a simple act, but it made M. so happy--and me too as I was able to pay for the groceries without a struggle. She seemed to me a woman who had probably had small children herself. I was so appreciative of her kindness--that a total stranger would show such genuine interest in my son touched me."
I love that macaroni mom. She lifted the heavy fear of impending meltdown from my shoulders. I don't know if she had raised children of her own, but I could see she certainly knew how to mother children. Have you had the chance to be a macaroni mom? Has anyone else done something simple that meant a great deal to you? I’d love to hear about it.
Thursday, February 1, 2007
Happy Groundhog Day!
Punxsutawney.
Isn't that a great word? That word alone is enough to make Groundhog Day worth celebrating. Although it is one of the most under-appreciated holidays on the calendar, Groundhog Day has a very loyal following. People observe the holiday with creativity and zeal. Did you know there are groundhog songs? games? parties? My sister is a devout observer. She started celebrating it when she was young and has now elevated the observance of it to an art form. Seriously. This year she has invited friends and family to write poetry in honor of the day. I experimented with a few different forms and perhaps I got carried away, but at least it was fun. Here's my contribution.
The Brown Groundhog (with apologies to William Carlos Williams)
so much depends
upon
a brown ground
hog
frightened by
shadow
burrowed in Gobbler’s
Knob
Okay, now for haiku
emerge from burrow
see not the cold grey shadow
and promise us spring
free verse
solitary marmot
whistlepig
woodchuck
finds his shadow
while we tuck
ourselves under the covers
for six more weeks of
winter.
Brrrrr.
Come on, celebrate the groundhog! Be daring and add your poem, song, or game to my comments section.
Miss Vanity's Confession (or Why Am I Doing This? part II)
"I have a title for your blog. . . 'Praise Junkie'"
That's what my sister said when I explained a few of the reasons why I wanted to start blogging. Okay, I admit it. I like it when people say nice things to me. But it's more than nice comments (although I really like nice comments)--I like having a little extra motivation to stop and jot a few thoughts down. Plus, I'm still new at this and enjoying all the novelty of it. Choosing my layout, the colors and fonts--it's play. However, I am a wee bit worried that blogging may encourage my usually hidden, adolescent sort of validation-seeking side to my personality. I'm aware of a part of myself that I don't really want to embrace. The same part that drove me to stick my smiling face 3 inches from the camera in our home movies when I was young; the same part that spurred me to attempt dancing all the parts of a large (46 cast member) musical number all by myself, on stage, in front of other adults last year during rehearsal for our stake production. The part of me that doesn't care about thoughtfulness, articulate eloquence, or inspiration. What if what matters most is just that people notice, admire, and compliment? I think that's about when my sister quipped, "I'm going to forget you just said that, so when we hang up, you can still have your self-respect." Thanks sis. You know how to keep me balanced.
That's what my sister said when I explained a few of the reasons why I wanted to start blogging. Okay, I admit it. I like it when people say nice things to me. But it's more than nice comments (although I really like nice comments)--I like having a little extra motivation to stop and jot a few thoughts down. Plus, I'm still new at this and enjoying all the novelty of it. Choosing my layout, the colors and fonts--it's play. However, I am a wee bit worried that blogging may encourage my usually hidden, adolescent sort of validation-seeking side to my personality. I'm aware of a part of myself that I don't really want to embrace. The same part that drove me to stick my smiling face 3 inches from the camera in our home movies when I was young; the same part that spurred me to attempt dancing all the parts of a large (46 cast member) musical number all by myself, on stage, in front of other adults last year during rehearsal for our stake production. The part of me that doesn't care about thoughtfulness, articulate eloquence, or inspiration. What if what matters most is just that people notice, admire, and compliment? I think that's about when my sister quipped, "I'm going to forget you just said that, so when we hang up, you can still have your self-respect." Thanks sis. You know how to keep me balanced.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)