Sunday, May 31, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wonder beans: 13-bean soup that now had the consistency of VERY thick split pea soup, and was the color of unhealthy mud. Fairly Intelligent Mom started to worry that her somewhat intelligent children might not be excited about eating dinner. On to the next decision for Fairly Intelligent Mom: How to make the impending protein-packed dinner seem like a somewhat attractive option for consumption.
Like a light in the darkness, *SMART MAMA!* and her (truly) WONDER ROLLS! came to Fairly Intelligent Mom's mind. Quicker than the evening news, these delectible delights can be on the table and begging to be eaten, warm with melting butter. They'd make any main dish seem palatable. I promise you.
As the oven was preheating and the rolls were rapidly rising (I mean it; they're QUICK), FIM (Fairly Intelligent Mom) remembered that she hadn't heard angry toddler boy for quite a while. Panic set in.
-Oh dear. What if he really DID go to sleep?-
She checked the front room and went quickly through every room in the house. He was mad. Mad enough to use his mad FHE hide-and-go-seek hiding skillz. The last few times we've played this game, he had won. Because, to his delight, he had discovered that he is small enough to be able to hide under any random pile of clothing (dirty or clean), rumpled bedding (ditto) or piles of fabric without being spotted.
-Ah-hah,- (she thought) he's hiding AND sleeping.
I finished my book choice for the month of May.
You can learn more about it HERE.
It was a delightful romp through Kansas and Nebraska, fondly referred to by the author as Kansaska and Nebransas. I met a lively cast of characters, and enjoyed this extraordinary adventure. I recommend it. Heartily.
...and discovering your voice:
May I also recommend this blog. It is created and managed by a brilliant woman who took a sabbatical from Wall Street to encourage and help others discover and pursue their dreams.
A quote from her latest post:
Take a minute to hop on over and check it out.
She's also sponsoring a Spa Give-Away that you might find enticing.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
I settled myself in a very central location, knowing that even though I was about to completely lose myself in a novel, I could still be available, should something need watching or should someone require a little cheering on. I even refused to get up to help my own flesh across the monkey bars. No way. I was letting my guard down. Indulgence in the form of fresh air reading. With happy-children-playing noises in the background.
I should have known better. Once you commit to this thing called motherhood, is there really a moment when you can totally let the guard completely fall? I know I read at least a few paragraphs. I have no idea what they said. My radar was honing in on a major distraction: adolescent pubescent tweens. They were using most of the swings and camping out on one of the slides. At first I thought I could deal with it. My radar became the glare of a hawk. I was taken aback by some of the posturing, physical inuendo and general behavior of two of the people on the slide. I felt my glare intensifying, and I wanted to burn a message into their 12 or 13 year old brains: Someone's mother is watching you. They weren't receiving it. I found myself becoming irritated at their seeming indifference. Preschool age children were having to avoid the slide, because the tweens were oblivious to the fact that they were in the way. Not only were they in the way, they were on display. I tried to look the other way. I tried not to care. I couldn't do it. I wanted to know if they would be doing the same things or saying the same things if it wasn't me there at the park; if it were one of their parents instead. I wanted to follow them home and ask their parents if they were alright with what was going on while they weren't watching. Actually, I became so torqued-up about it, I couldn't sleep after getting into bed tonight. My thoughts spilled-over from the playground to the school bus. To recess. To environments that I cannot control, or in many cases, even see. It was intimidating. The tiny forces of a parent, versus the enormous influence of the world. I had to get out of bed and seek something comforting. I opened this month's Ensign magazine to an article called "Gifts to Help Us Navigate Our Life." It was a good beginning.
Back at the park? In a voice that was as controlled as I could make it, I asked them to move so the kids could use the slide. They weren't quick and they weren't even polite about it. Female tween gave me a crusty stare. Honestly? I didn't care. I wanted to say SO much more, but knew that it would have fallen on deaf ears. What I DID say (later to my husband) was that I now know that I will NEVER be able to let my guard down at the playground. And I'm okay with that.
We were touched by Patriotism
P.S. This one's for YOU:
Monday, May 25, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
If you happen to be a Bank of America cardholder, you can get in FREE! to many zoos, botanical gardens and museums across the country.
P.S. I do not endorse owning a credit card just for the sole purpose of getting into museums for free. Especially if the plan backfires, and enables you to live any which way but providently. I don't happen to own one of those, but I might find a friend who does!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Not because I'm turning into a fitness nut.
Not because I'm looking ahead to swimsuit season.
I'm running because the timer *BEEP*s every 15 minutes.
And when the timer beeps, I must run.
I'm starting to feel a bit like Pavlov's Dog.
Especially since I haven't been able to shower for a couple of days.
And with the heat topping out in the 90's, the timing's Oh, so ripe. I mean right. Yesterday, in the middle of hosting a slip-n-slide party for four and five year olds, the hose stopped working. It was abrupt. And a little disappointing.
The worst was yet to come:
The $3,500 price tag for a new pump, with all the latest accessories, at the bottom of our 580 foot well.
The mood on the homefront was not pleasant last night. But I was able to therapeutically bring the tension down a few notches by spending an hour at the sink washing the dishes in water that I heated on the stove. Especially after the ice storm that is still fresh in our minds, I believe VERY strongly in having an adequate water supply. And in storing water for emergencies. We do. So in that, and some time spent soaking my hands in the sudsy water, I have taken comfort.
Back to the timer. The well guys/pump guys instructed us that we must now flush any sediment out of our well before we can pump the water through the interior pipes. All water has been shut off to the house, and is now operating from a single house, snaked through the basement window from the shut-off valve in the basement. Fifteen minutes on, fifteen minutes off. Run to basement, turn valve on. Run to lawn to collect water sample. Run to basement, turn valve off. Run to lawn, check for sediment. We have to check the water for color and sediment each time. As you can see, the water looks more like a pitcher of lager. When there is no sediment and no color, we're good to go. He said it could take anywhere from three hours to three weeks. So far we know that it didn't take three hours. I love that dirty water. (Boston you're my home!)
And there goes the timer.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
"AAAAAGHHHHHHH!!!!!!" I said.
From the rear I heard "Cool! There are leaves in the van!"
Then I managed "I'm scared! SLOW DOWN!"
To which Toddler boy said "Woah! ... THAT.WAS.AWESOME!"
If it weren't for the stinging on my face from the branch-whipping I took, I might have thought I was dreaming that I was in a cartoon sequence of Mario-Cart. With bonus points. Sheesh.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Charlyne Yi does not believe in love. Or so she says. Well, at the very least, she doesnt believe in fairy-tale love or the Hollywood mythology of love, and her own experiences have turned her into yet another modern-day skeptic.
Shipping thanks over to my friend Yankee Girl for discovering this movie.
I will be clearing some time in my calendar to watch it on the big screen when it debuts in August.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I wanted to park the car and take a flying leap; swing back into my youth, let the breeze move my hair and feel the weightless sensation in my stomach as it carried me up and down, back and forth.
I should have, but I didn't. I pulled out my camera instead and just imagined it.
I need a strong "push" to stop living in the rush of a schedule and step into the joy of the moment. Have you felt this way?
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sentenced to death, Irena was saved at the last minute when Zegota members bribed one of the Germans to halt the execution. She escaped from prison but for the rest of the war she was pursued by the Gestapo.
After the war she dug up the jars and used the notes to track down the 2,500 children she placed with adoptive families and to reunite them with relatives scattered across Europe. But most lost their families during the Holocaust in Nazi death camps.
The children had known her only by her code name Jolanta. But years later, after she was honored for her wartime work, her picture appeared in a newspaper. "A man, a painter, telephoned me," said Sendler, "`I remember your face,' he said. `It was you who took me out of the ghetto.' I had many calls like that!"
Irena Sendler did not think of herself as a hero. She claimed no credit for her actions. "I could have done more," she said. "This regret will follow me to my death."
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Every time I look out my back window.
Can you see it?
feeling grateful for thick batter,
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Yesterday on the way home from grocery shopping, he was parched like a nomad in the desert so I promised him a drink of water AND a popsicle upon re-entry. He gladly accepted both. He pulled out a purple twin pop, and asked me if I wanted to split it with him. "Absolutely," I said "Purple is my favorite!" After taking a lick I found myself thinking out loud: "Hmmm... this isn't what I thought it would be." His curiosity was peaked, so he asked "What did you think it would be?" I said "Grape."
He said "Maybe its from a different world. Maybe it comes from the one next to our world."
I never thought of that.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
I got my red crocs for Mother's Day last year. Secretly: I didn't like them, and didn't really want them. But because I didn't want to hurt my childrens' feelings, I put on my best smile and embraced the wearing of plastic shoes with enough sweetness to make your teeth hurt. Now? I'm finding that I've worn them so much over the past year that I'm mourning my future without them. They have holes in the bottoms and have worn very thin in other places.
Duct Tape. Need I say more? When you're out of duct tape, it's like not having milk in the house. I used to think about doing the following, but never acted on it:
But mostly what I'm grateful for, that I take for granted on a daily basis, is the time I get to spend being a mother. Every single minute is a gift. Even the rotten ones. I am at peace with my chaotic, cluttered, unorganized home when I look around and see evidence of the children that live here. I know that this is what's right for me.
I'm humbled by and grateful for my badge of motherhood.