Dustin and I went, a couple weeks ago, to a four day karate course. I thought I might die... it was so hard. My legs have never been so sore in my whole life.
I'm doing karate again, did you know? Did you know, in the first place, that I did karate? When Mac was about 9 months old I started. I practiced until he was three years old and then I stopped until about three months ago. Dustin started this style shortly after I did and he didn't stop. He's a black belt. I'm an orange belt. It's really fun and very difficult and technical. And it makes your legs SO SO sore.
Brynja has recently started talking more... or jabbering more. It's the cutest thing ever.
Pretzel season is upon us.
We refinanced our house and I'm fairly excited that, for the same payment we've been paying, I can now pay off my house 8 years earlier. Flippin' sweet.
Mac is taking ballroom dance. His first performance is next week and he's excited. But I might be more excited. I haven't really seen him dance yet. Today he tried on his costume. I asked him what it looked like and he replied, "You'll see next week!" The stinker wouldn't tell me. And he won't show me his "moves" either. He's excited for us to have the whole experience. He's so cute and grown up. ♥
My mom is healing and getting better. She deals with tiring more easily than she used to, but she's doing quite well considering what she went through.
I wish I could hug my grandma and stay at her house when I go to Salt Lake. I wish I could smell the scent of her, the scent of her home and of breakfast cooking in the kitchen.
Today a thunderhead mood rolled into my heart and I was angry for inexplicable reasons. Then it rolled away almost as fast as it came.
I miss writing. Or, rather, I miss feeling that unquenchable desire to write and create beauty with words. I miss the sated feeling I always got from it. I want to be that girl again.
We, after 7 years of living in our house, FINALLY painted the living room. We also installed new bamboo floors. Loveliness.
I had my eye on a new couch since we finished the basement and took the upstairs couch downstairs. I eyed it and eyed it for about eight months. I actually had the money to buy it, but kept holding off. Then in August I found a couch at a yard sale that's SO awesome! It's from 1966 and I love it. Teal colored and in near perfect shape. And guess how much I paid for it? $10. Yep. I saved myself $600 on the couch and paid for new floors with it instead. Life is grand.
Ella and Rohan have been taking piano lessons. Rohan was a little slower to get excited about it than Ella, but his enthusiasm has been increasing as he learns. Ella took off like a shot from the start. They are both doing so great. Ella started on sharps today and she couldn't stop talking about how excited she was about that fact. Adorable.
Dustin is the best husband ever. Still. In fact, I think he's like fine wine... gets better with age. He turned 38 last month. That's two years from 40. I can't tell you how that trips me out. I always thought passing birthdays would be no big deal, but I'm thinking that I had no clue because I was young and getting older was still awesome back then.
Choir Christmas prep is in full swing. Maria helped me look at my music stash today. She's such an awesome resource and an awesome friend.
We need to expand our karate group. We don't know exactly how, but it needs to happen. Anyone who lives near me want to do karate? Let me just interject (on my own monologue? I think interject might be the wrong word choice...) and say that when I started karate I thought doing karate was lame. My mom was taking it and I went because I seriously needed an outlet... I felt like I was lost in a sea of diapers, baby food and baby talk. My mom said come, so I went. I didn't expect to like it, but to my great surprise, I did. This is not your run-of-the-mill karate style. It's not a style full of HI-YA's! and tension. We work on relaxing our bodies. Can't really explain it, but if you're local, COME try it! You might just like it. And it's super cheap.
I feel a hovering sadness at the outskirts of my awareness. It's not always there, but, like a hummingbird, it zips in and out. I'm not sure what that's about, but I am just noticing it. It's like it just touches on my brain and says, "Hey, I'm here." and then goes away. It's like out of the blue I almost burst into tears for no reason at all and then just as suddenly, I'm totally normal again. I don't get it.
I sit here and wonder at the things going on in the hearts of people... people I love, people I just know a little bit, people I know pretty well, people I don't like. There are things going on in my heart and head all the time that no one but me has any awareness of, like that hummingbird-sadness that flits in and out. Everyone has something like that. Everyone is hurting or fighting some battle in their hearts, and we all just walk around and act fine. I watch my baby Brynja move through the world and she has none of that. If she feels sad, she cries and tells me about it in her jabber-cute way. If she's happy, she shows it with her whole body, galloping circles of joy around the house. If she's mad, she screams and, recently, attempts to throw her fist at something. When does that change? What would the world be like if we just walked around acting out what was going on in our hearts? Expressing it with our whole bodies, like babies do? When do we start holding everything in and stuffing it in our physical shell?
I don't know.
And I still have a problem with dinner. We are still not friends.
I wish I knew my grandpa better. He's still alive and I need to make more of an effort with him. He's an aloof man who is not easy to get to know, but I want to try.
I wish that it could be winter without being so cold. I'm pretty sure I'm not ready for this.
The End.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Recently in Clancy's Life...
My baby girl, Brynja, is so darling. I marvel at the fact that she is 19 months old. I wish I was better at taking pictures so I could share her charms with the world, but, for now, writing will have to suffice. She has been my latest bloomer in the speech department. Not to say that she's not communicating, because she most certainly is. She has the most precious ways of expressing herself and telling us what she wants. She hums and squeaks and signs, and very recently, has started to open her world even further by trying to use a few more words. I swear that she tried to say "street sweeper" today as she and I giggled at the machine sweeping our leaves from the gutters. She is my pal on these long days with the other kids in school. We have so much fun.
Just today we played with a plastic elephant and a stuffed armadillo. We made them run like horses and I would try to make elephant noises. Brynja thought this was hysterical. She laughed her big, open-mouth laughed, exposing her new molars and her yet-to-be-I-teeth holes. It's the cutest thing. She laughs with gusto and gallops around the house like a joyful little horsey. She brings delight to our home like sunshine warming the sidewalk. I love her so much.
Bedtime or nap time is my favorite. As soon as I turn off her light and settle in the glider next to her bed, she snuggles her little head into my neck or chest and calms herself down. Sometimes I sing her a song, other times I simply rock her and wonder at the love flowing between us. It's like a force of nature that is impossible to resist. Not that I'd want to resist it. I just jump in and bask in the glow of that love. I just want to squeeze her and never let her go. I often feel a sense of loss as I lay her in her bed, the heavy weight of her small body taken from me and put down for her autonomous nap.
I get it now. I really get it.
People used to say to me when my other kids were small, "Oh... treasure this time! It goes so fast. Before you know it, they'll be driving and then off to college!" or something like that. They said it all the time! I'd smile at them through clenched teeth as I heard these words for what felt like the thousandth time. They really meant well, but I just wanted to punch them or tell them to shut up. They didn't know how hard those days were! And they were hard. Mac, in particular, was a challenging child, and I just couldn't wait for each day to end so I could see my little kids asleep, looking angelic and not fighting with each other. (He definitely had his sweet moments too... I don't want to discount those, but I remember the challenging times best, it seems!)
I can't cite the source, or perhaps even the correct quote, but recently I heard something that went like, "Motherhood is full of the longest days and the shortest years."
How true that is! Each day can feel like an eternity, and then you blink and your oldest son, who used to be so full of challenge, is 11 1/2 years old! What? And my Ella is 9 1/2? Huh? My baby Rohan is 6 1/2? How did that happen?
They were right. It really does go fast.
And so, I hold my Brynja a little closer. I ache when I put her down to bed. And most of all I cry for my other babies, Mac, Ella and Rohan. I look at theses big kids and wish so hard that I could hold them as infants just one more time. I cry for that time that is gone from me. If I found a magic lamp today, I'd rub it and wish for one day with each of my kids when they were small.
And so with Brynja, my last baby, I hold her tighter knowing that time will slip through my fingers anyway, but at least I know it this time. I don't think the knowing makes it any easier, just more poignant.
Just today we played with a plastic elephant and a stuffed armadillo. We made them run like horses and I would try to make elephant noises. Brynja thought this was hysterical. She laughed her big, open-mouth laughed, exposing her new molars and her yet-to-be-I-teeth holes. It's the cutest thing. She laughs with gusto and gallops around the house like a joyful little horsey. She brings delight to our home like sunshine warming the sidewalk. I love her so much.
Bedtime or nap time is my favorite. As soon as I turn off her light and settle in the glider next to her bed, she snuggles her little head into my neck or chest and calms herself down. Sometimes I sing her a song, other times I simply rock her and wonder at the love flowing between us. It's like a force of nature that is impossible to resist. Not that I'd want to resist it. I just jump in and bask in the glow of that love. I just want to squeeze her and never let her go. I often feel a sense of loss as I lay her in her bed, the heavy weight of her small body taken from me and put down for her autonomous nap.
I get it now. I really get it.
People used to say to me when my other kids were small, "Oh... treasure this time! It goes so fast. Before you know it, they'll be driving and then off to college!" or something like that. They said it all the time! I'd smile at them through clenched teeth as I heard these words for what felt like the thousandth time. They really meant well, but I just wanted to punch them or tell them to shut up. They didn't know how hard those days were! And they were hard. Mac, in particular, was a challenging child, and I just couldn't wait for each day to end so I could see my little kids asleep, looking angelic and not fighting with each other. (He definitely had his sweet moments too... I don't want to discount those, but I remember the challenging times best, it seems!)
I can't cite the source, or perhaps even the correct quote, but recently I heard something that went like, "Motherhood is full of the longest days and the shortest years."
How true that is! Each day can feel like an eternity, and then you blink and your oldest son, who used to be so full of challenge, is 11 1/2 years old! What? And my Ella is 9 1/2? Huh? My baby Rohan is 6 1/2? How did that happen?
They were right. It really does go fast.
And so, I hold my Brynja a little closer. I ache when I put her down to bed. And most of all I cry for my other babies, Mac, Ella and Rohan. I look at theses big kids and wish so hard that I could hold them as infants just one more time. I cry for that time that is gone from me. If I found a magic lamp today, I'd rub it and wish for one day with each of my kids when they were small.
And so with Brynja, my last baby, I hold her tighter knowing that time will slip through my fingers anyway, but at least I know it this time. I don't think the knowing makes it any easier, just more poignant.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Burrowing Cry
I keep sitting here, not sure how to start this, so I guess I'll just start.
In the wee hours of the morning (1:00ish?) on September 23rd, my mom, on a houseboat vacation with my two older siblings in Lake Powell, Utah, woke up to discomfort and a voice telling her, "This is a heart attack, you're having a heart attack." She had already thrown up a couple times before she went to bed (thinking she was just sick but actually was experiencing angina) but, as she woke up more and started to try and rouse my dad and tell him what was going on, she began throwing up again.
I wasn't there so I can only convey bits and pieces without much timeline accuracy, but I know that she continued throwing up many, many times throughout the night... 30 or so was a guess. She had intense chest, arm and back pain and it was hard to breathe.
My dad was terrified and felt rather helpless. You see, they were on this houseboat on a night with just a sliver moon that wouldn't even rise until about 5:30am., no spotlight and a VERY treacherous lake, twenty miles from the closest marina and medical help. Lake Powell is full of unknowns under the water. It can be a dangerous lake to navigate in the daylight, much less the darkest of nights with no light on the boat. My mom relates now that my dad was trembling and he tried to hold her and offer her some sort of comfort. I can only imagine the anguish that they were both experiencing. My mom wrote up a summary of events as she remembered them. I hope she doesn't mind if I put some of that here in my own record of things:
"I was pretty freaked out, panic was rampant for a while. [As time passed,]I got to a point that I saw a really cool mosaic of blues & blue-green looking spots that formed a spiral. It moved ever so gently & beckoned me... I thought with great clarity... "So this is what it's like to die from a heart attack" There was no panic at that point. It was a peaceful, resigned, calm place & feeling."
"I don't know how much time passed but I started feeling & then speaking out loud to Brayt "I CAN'T die on this boat" "I can't do that to these kids, my kids & grandkids." I knew with certainty, at that point, that they would heap some kind of guilt on themselves about not doing something different... [so] I knew that I couldn't die on the houseboat. I asked Brayt to give me a [priesthood] blessing. He obliged & then later he felt like he should go consecrate some oil & do the full ordinance, so he did. Then when he said his blessing he stated: "I bless you that you will survive this night". ...[and] something shifted after that. I was in agony for more than 8 hours and I survived the night. I didn't die on the houseboat."
My dad, in the retelling, says that he had so much fear as he tried to do something but felt so helpless. He gave the first blessing without oil because he forgot to bring it, and later felt commanded by the Spirit do the full ordinance (as mom said). As he gave her the second blessing, he told me that he felt the powers of heaven pour into my mom and felt the fear that gripped him relax. He said it felt that it wasn't up to him now. She was held by the Power of God.
Even still, the night was agony. My mom said she kept looking at the sky, hoping to see some light, some signal of time passing. She felt like it would never end. But, as all hard things do, the night finally did come to an end. Morning came and they got her on the power boat and to the ramp at Bullfrog Marina.
Upon arrival, my dad ran up the ramp and found a Ranger sitting in his Jeep. He asked him if there was a Clinic close by.
"Why?" the Ranger asked.
"Because I think my wife is having a heart attack." replied my Dad.
The Ranger asked where she was and my dad pointed to the power boat bobbing at the dock. The Ranger, who happened to be a Medic, jumped in his Jeep, radioed for an ambulance, drove down the ramp, grabbed his bag and ran to where she was in the boat. He, on the bobbing boat, started an I.V. of something, and then the ambulance was there and they were loading her onto the gurney.
She was taken to the small clinic at Bullfrog and was given some sort of pain meds and who-knows-what. In short order, a life-flight helicopter crew arrived and, in Mom's words, "They were the BEST! Light, good energy, competent to the max & the let me joke with them & they seemed to get it! The pilot came in & asked "How do you feel about a helicopter ride?" Me: "That's probably the best part of this whole thing so far!" Pilot (laughing): "Now that's my kind of patient!" Whoosh..... off to the chopper..."
Mom was in a drug induced haze after that. She remembered snippets of things... being unloaded from the chopper... flashes of the Cardiac Cath-Lab... the Cardiac ICU with no familiar faces around... and then seeing my dad (who had driven the five hours from Lake Powell to Provo, where she was taken).... and then my dad walking in the room again, followed by me. My Dad had called me Friday afternoon at about 1:00 to tell me what was going on and that Mom was in a helicopter on her way to Provo. I called Taylor and Lacy, my siblings, and then Dustin. Dustin could tell I was rather shaken and suggested that I call my friend Rebby. Rebby offered to watch my baby Brynja and pick up my kids from their bus stop. I took her up on the offer and was on the road by about 2:30.
My mom was in the Cardiac ICU from Friday until Sunday afternoon. Sunday they moved her to the regular Cardiac Floor (which was bustling and crowded... and her new room we not-so-lovingly called her "Harry Potter cupboard-under-the-stairs" because it was so small...) I stayed in Provo the whole time and was at the hospital all day, every day until she was released on Tuesday evening.
My dad and I took turns being the information liaison for everyone who was calling to inquire and send their prayers and love. She had many visitors and love and prayers being said for her.
Because she went so long without any medical intervention, she did suffer some damage to her heart, but it is improving and she is working to get her heart function back. We learned after her surgery (where two stents were placed) that the problem was in her lateral anterior descending coronary artery. This is the artery that is also dubbed "the widowmaker" because it has a VERY high mortality rate. They tell us that it was 100% blocked by a blood clot that had developed on the stent they had placed there last year. How my mom survived so long with such a thing and how she is currently doing as remarkably well as she is... TRULY a miracle.
As for my own experience and the title of this post... I had NO idea, in the midst of my own hospital "supportive role" experience, how taxing to my own psyche it was. I thought my mom was doing fairly well on Saturday and Sunday, all things considered. And she was. She was not really eating, though, and battling nausea, chest pain (from Pericarditus, they think, but were never sure...) and drug-effects, among other things. It was rough. More rough than I realized at the time. Monday rolled around and she showed such improvements from the weekend that I had a dawning understanding that she had been worse than I knew. But she improved so much on Monday. She started eating more, had less nausea and started walking more with her cardiac therapist. Then Tuesday she was WAY better, even, than Monday. It was an amazing transformation. Her spirits were higher on Tuesday and we got word that she was most likely going to be released that day.
As I, unconsciously for the most part, started to relax about my mom's condition Monday evening and into Tuesday, I began allowing myself to feel my exhaustion. I felt like I had been a piece of cloth that was spray-starched into rigidity for support and suddenly someone poured water all over me, releasing the starch that was holding me up. I was "puddley". I had permission from the universe to be tired and, boy-oh-boy, was I tired. I also felt like I was made of blown glass. All my emotions were suddenly right at the surface, and I would shatter at a touch. I worked at "keeping it together" to some degree for the rest of the day, but all I wanted to do was cry my eyes out in someone's arms.
My dear husband was at home with the kids these five days and trying to work and juggle schedules, etc. He was anxious for me to come home, so on Tuesday night at about 8:30, I left Provo for my trek home. It was late to be leaving, tired as I was, but I didn't want to stress D out any more than he was. As I was driving, my tears, held together most of the day, were bursting to come out. But to drive safely, I couldn't let them come.
I wanted desperately to stop at a friend's house who was on the way home, but the late hour and other circumstances didn't allow it.
And so, I swallowed it.
I know it was a mixed blessing to be able to do that. I needed to not delay my drive any more since I would be home very late as it was, but I also felt like I really needed to cry.
But I didn't.
And the emotions burrowed. They went subterranean and I can feel them there, like a splinter in my body.
Did you ever watch a movie called The Holiday? Cameron Diaz's character couldn't cry, try as she might. I've felt like that ever since. I do cry, just a little bit. But then those tears just dry up as quickly as they came on.
I did get some release yesterday. My mom came over to my house to help me dip pretzels, of all things to do post-heart attack (bless her, but she saved me!). In my gratitude for her help, I hugged her and said my thanks. And I started to cry. She hugged me for a long time. She said sweet-mommy things to the child in me who needed comfort. And I 'got it' in a way I hadn't yet. A new level of settling in. My mom so nearly lost her life. She was spared by the power and grace of God and her own will that made the choice to stay. She was here with me in my kitchen offering me comfort instead of me desperately seeking the slippery peace I would have been had she merged with the blue/green mosaic that was beckoning her on that turbulent night in Lake Powell.
My tears went underground, but my mother stayed, and I will wait patiently and in gratitude until those tears would like to come forth.
I love you more than words can express, Momma.
In the wee hours of the morning (1:00ish?) on September 23rd, my mom, on a houseboat vacation with my two older siblings in Lake Powell, Utah, woke up to discomfort and a voice telling her, "This is a heart attack, you're having a heart attack." She had already thrown up a couple times before she went to bed (thinking she was just sick but actually was experiencing angina) but, as she woke up more and started to try and rouse my dad and tell him what was going on, she began throwing up again.
I wasn't there so I can only convey bits and pieces without much timeline accuracy, but I know that she continued throwing up many, many times throughout the night... 30 or so was a guess. She had intense chest, arm and back pain and it was hard to breathe.
My dad was terrified and felt rather helpless. You see, they were on this houseboat on a night with just a sliver moon that wouldn't even rise until about 5:30am., no spotlight and a VERY treacherous lake, twenty miles from the closest marina and medical help. Lake Powell is full of unknowns under the water. It can be a dangerous lake to navigate in the daylight, much less the darkest of nights with no light on the boat. My mom relates now that my dad was trembling and he tried to hold her and offer her some sort of comfort. I can only imagine the anguish that they were both experiencing. My mom wrote up a summary of events as she remembered them. I hope she doesn't mind if I put some of that here in my own record of things:
"I was pretty freaked out, panic was rampant for a while. [As time passed,]I got to a point that I saw a really cool mosaic of blues & blue-green looking spots that formed a spiral. It moved ever so gently & beckoned me... I thought with great clarity... "So this is what it's like to die from a heart attack" There was no panic at that point. It was a peaceful, resigned, calm place & feeling."
"I don't know how much time passed but I started feeling & then speaking out loud to Brayt "I CAN'T die on this boat" "I can't do that to these kids, my kids & grandkids." I knew with certainty, at that point, that they would heap some kind of guilt on themselves about not doing something different... [so] I knew that I couldn't die on the houseboat. I asked Brayt to give me a [priesthood] blessing. He obliged & then later he felt like he should go consecrate some oil & do the full ordinance, so he did. Then when he said his blessing he stated: "I bless you that you will survive this night". ...[and] something shifted after that. I was in agony for more than 8 hours and I survived the night. I didn't die on the houseboat."
My dad, in the retelling, says that he had so much fear as he tried to do something but felt so helpless. He gave the first blessing without oil because he forgot to bring it, and later felt commanded by the Spirit do the full ordinance (as mom said). As he gave her the second blessing, he told me that he felt the powers of heaven pour into my mom and felt the fear that gripped him relax. He said it felt that it wasn't up to him now. She was held by the Power of God.
Even still, the night was agony. My mom said she kept looking at the sky, hoping to see some light, some signal of time passing. She felt like it would never end. But, as all hard things do, the night finally did come to an end. Morning came and they got her on the power boat and to the ramp at Bullfrog Marina.
Upon arrival, my dad ran up the ramp and found a Ranger sitting in his Jeep. He asked him if there was a Clinic close by.
"Why?" the Ranger asked.
"Because I think my wife is having a heart attack." replied my Dad.
The Ranger asked where she was and my dad pointed to the power boat bobbing at the dock. The Ranger, who happened to be a Medic, jumped in his Jeep, radioed for an ambulance, drove down the ramp, grabbed his bag and ran to where she was in the boat. He, on the bobbing boat, started an I.V. of something, and then the ambulance was there and they were loading her onto the gurney.
She was taken to the small clinic at Bullfrog and was given some sort of pain meds and who-knows-what. In short order, a life-flight helicopter crew arrived and, in Mom's words, "They were the BEST! Light, good energy, competent to the max & the let me joke with them & they seemed to get it! The pilot came in & asked "How do you feel about a helicopter ride?" Me: "That's probably the best part of this whole thing so far!" Pilot (laughing): "Now that's my kind of patient!" Whoosh..... off to the chopper..."
Mom was in a drug induced haze after that. She remembered snippets of things... being unloaded from the chopper... flashes of the Cardiac Cath-Lab... the Cardiac ICU with no familiar faces around... and then seeing my dad (who had driven the five hours from Lake Powell to Provo, where she was taken).... and then my dad walking in the room again, followed by me. My Dad had called me Friday afternoon at about 1:00 to tell me what was going on and that Mom was in a helicopter on her way to Provo. I called Taylor and Lacy, my siblings, and then Dustin. Dustin could tell I was rather shaken and suggested that I call my friend Rebby. Rebby offered to watch my baby Brynja and pick up my kids from their bus stop. I took her up on the offer and was on the road by about 2:30.
My mom was in the Cardiac ICU from Friday until Sunday afternoon. Sunday they moved her to the regular Cardiac Floor (which was bustling and crowded... and her new room we not-so-lovingly called her "Harry Potter cupboard-under-the-stairs" because it was so small...) I stayed in Provo the whole time and was at the hospital all day, every day until she was released on Tuesday evening.
My dad and I took turns being the information liaison for everyone who was calling to inquire and send their prayers and love. She had many visitors and love and prayers being said for her.
Because she went so long without any medical intervention, she did suffer some damage to her heart, but it is improving and she is working to get her heart function back. We learned after her surgery (where two stents were placed) that the problem was in her lateral anterior descending coronary artery. This is the artery that is also dubbed "the widowmaker" because it has a VERY high mortality rate. They tell us that it was 100% blocked by a blood clot that had developed on the stent they had placed there last year. How my mom survived so long with such a thing and how she is currently doing as remarkably well as she is... TRULY a miracle.
As for my own experience and the title of this post... I had NO idea, in the midst of my own hospital "supportive role" experience, how taxing to my own psyche it was. I thought my mom was doing fairly well on Saturday and Sunday, all things considered. And she was. She was not really eating, though, and battling nausea, chest pain (from Pericarditus, they think, but were never sure...) and drug-effects, among other things. It was rough. More rough than I realized at the time. Monday rolled around and she showed such improvements from the weekend that I had a dawning understanding that she had been worse than I knew. But she improved so much on Monday. She started eating more, had less nausea and started walking more with her cardiac therapist. Then Tuesday she was WAY better, even, than Monday. It was an amazing transformation. Her spirits were higher on Tuesday and we got word that she was most likely going to be released that day.
As I, unconsciously for the most part, started to relax about my mom's condition Monday evening and into Tuesday, I began allowing myself to feel my exhaustion. I felt like I had been a piece of cloth that was spray-starched into rigidity for support and suddenly someone poured water all over me, releasing the starch that was holding me up. I was "puddley". I had permission from the universe to be tired and, boy-oh-boy, was I tired. I also felt like I was made of blown glass. All my emotions were suddenly right at the surface, and I would shatter at a touch. I worked at "keeping it together" to some degree for the rest of the day, but all I wanted to do was cry my eyes out in someone's arms.
My dear husband was at home with the kids these five days and trying to work and juggle schedules, etc. He was anxious for me to come home, so on Tuesday night at about 8:30, I left Provo for my trek home. It was late to be leaving, tired as I was, but I didn't want to stress D out any more than he was. As I was driving, my tears, held together most of the day, were bursting to come out. But to drive safely, I couldn't let them come.
I wanted desperately to stop at a friend's house who was on the way home, but the late hour and other circumstances didn't allow it.
And so, I swallowed it.
I know it was a mixed blessing to be able to do that. I needed to not delay my drive any more since I would be home very late as it was, but I also felt like I really needed to cry.
But I didn't.
And the emotions burrowed. They went subterranean and I can feel them there, like a splinter in my body.
Did you ever watch a movie called The Holiday? Cameron Diaz's character couldn't cry, try as she might. I've felt like that ever since. I do cry, just a little bit. But then those tears just dry up as quickly as they came on.
I did get some release yesterday. My mom came over to my house to help me dip pretzels, of all things to do post-heart attack (bless her, but she saved me!). In my gratitude for her help, I hugged her and said my thanks. And I started to cry. She hugged me for a long time. She said sweet-mommy things to the child in me who needed comfort. And I 'got it' in a way I hadn't yet. A new level of settling in. My mom so nearly lost her life. She was spared by the power and grace of God and her own will that made the choice to stay. She was here with me in my kitchen offering me comfort instead of me desperately seeking the slippery peace I would have been had she merged with the blue/green mosaic that was beckoning her on that turbulent night in Lake Powell.
My tears went underground, but my mother stayed, and I will wait patiently and in gratitude until those tears would like to come forth.
I love you more than words can express, Momma.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!
To my dear Dad! I love you pops. I'm sad that you're away on this day, out in the oil fields where you are working your long long hours, but I'm so proud of you for doing what needs to be done, even if it means being away from family on your birthday.
I love you so much. Thank you for always being a support to me and my family.
Love,
Clancy
I love you so much. Thank you for always being a support to me and my family.
Love,
Clancy
Monday, August 22, 2011
From the FB World
Facebook is a lovely little thing. But it does have it's drawbacks. I post little things that my kids, particularly Rohan, says, but there they sit, being stacked upon by all the busy-ness of Facebook (and occasionally I say something funny I want to remember too). I'll never find them again. So, I'm going to post some of those things on here so they are a little more accessible and easier to remember. This might be a really long post, or maybe it will encompass several posts, but either way, I want them recorded. Enjoy...
Rohan sees Brynja getting sleepy in the car, leans over to her to sing her a song and leans back to me, "Mom, I forgot that song, what's It called... 'Baby in a tree'?
Me: 'Rock a bye baby'?
Rohan: "Yeah, rock a bye baby..." and he leans over and start singing it to Brynja. So cute.
May 17 at 1:00pm
I owe a public apology to my daughter, Brynja Leigh. I wrongfully accused her of throwing my cell phone charger in the garbage, when really I just moved it into her room to listen to Pandora while I was cleaning one time and I... ahem... forgot.
Sorry, baby girl.
August 17 at 9:37am
Dear Tuesday,
You might be my favorite day of the week for the simple fact that you are not Monday.
Affectionately,
Clancy
August 16 at 3:39pm
"Today was more awesome then a shark high-fiving a bear during an explosion in outer space." ....Today hasn't necessarily been that awesome, but this quote had to be stolen from my friend, Dan's status. HA!!
May 17 at 1:00pm
Rohan declared that because it was SUCH a nice day, we HAVE to have a "pigNic"! He got out the blanket, spread it carefully, grabbed the basket I store plastic-wear in, and grabbed a handfull of pretzels. Then he asked me if I'd like him to make me a PBJ.
That's what I call a Motherhood Prize... Happy Mother's Day to me!
May 05, 2011
Rohan: Mom, why is it that farmers get to have all this lucky stuff?
April 25 at 5:53pm
You know your baby has three older siblings when she toots and then laughs while she looks up to see who's laughing with her.
April 19 at 10:05am
Dear Stranger Who Knocked at My Door-
You are weird. When you knock and get no answer, why do you feel like it's ok to open up my door and put a business card *inside* my house in my daughter's shoe asking me if I want to sell my car? I feel a little violated. Maybe I should lock my door at 10:30 am more often? Thanks for the heads up, crazy.
Sincerely,
Clancy
March 3 at 12:04pm
I gotcha this time, Dinner. HAHA!! I planned for the whole week and you're so done. I'll see you tomorrow in some split-pea soup.
February 16 at 12:19am
Rohan @ lunch says to me... Mom, you're just a little bit old.
Me... Oh? Just a little bit?
Rohan, in clarification... Yeah, just *barely* old.
♥
February 10 at 1:09pm
Teaching my baby girl the fine art of sitting by the heater. She's so precious... and heat seeking.
February 9 at 8:39am
Just met a little girl named clancy. It was a little surreal, like I was observing some younger version of myself.
February 4 at 3:14pm
had to share from my brother's status update... Taylor, you're hilarious.
"...and ya know, dentists need to invent a keyboard to type on while your mouth is jacked open so you can still communicate!!! haha
Dentist - "oh, how are you doin, doin ok?"
Me - "hhcccchhhaaaaalllaaaaaawaancchhhhaa"
Dentist - "o good,... let me know if it hurts"
Me - "hhhrrraaaachchhahaaa
February 2 at 11:48am
Rohan: I can't believe its still snowy and it's already a different week.
January 20 at 4:09pm
Curse the traffic engineers who decided to change Holmes' traffic pattern. May your dogs get fleas and your cats throw-up on your pillow. And if you don't have pets, traffic engineers, I curse you to run out of windshield washer fluid while driving in Utah!
January 8 at 2:22pm
Rohan says to me, totally randomly: Mom, some day I want to go to a Massage Factory.
Me, stifling laughter: A massage factory?
Rohan: Yeah, you know... one of those places that you get a massage? And it's made of rock on the outside and the inside?
Still not sure what he meant, but man it was funny.
December 11, 2010 at 7:28am
Weather channel app on my phone told me that in @
Atlanta georgia, it was 57 degrees and that it feels like 57 degrees. I told to the phone to find my location..
1 degree, and it feels like -16 degrees. What an awesome day to live in Idaho.
November 24, 2010 at 11:54pm
Baby B cut two teeth, started crawling and took her first steps all in the same week.
November 22, 2010 at 10:01am
Rohan takes a drink of his water thats been in the cold car all night: "this is Brrrzing water, Mom!"
Me: Brrrzing, huh?
Rohan: Yeah feel. (He puts it on my hand) Brrrrr! It's cold!!!
I ♥ Rohan.
November 17, 2010 at 2:16pm
Dear Autumn, thank you for your boastful and lingering display. Do me one favor and tell Winter we could do without the preview of his cold, blustery gifts.
November 8, 2010 at 12:19pm
Rohan... "mom, are we nephites?"
Me..."uhhh... no, not really."
R... "so we're Samaritans?"
Me... "uhhh... no."
R... "so, what are we then?"
Me... "Gentiles?" (Are we?)
R... "but Samaritans talk like this, right? "
Me..."uhhh....what?"
Cutest kid ever.
October 22, 2010 at 3:13pm
Hello friends.
Look at your status. Now back to mine. Now back to your status, now
back to mine. Sadly, your status isn't mine. But if you stopped posting
other things and made this your status, yours could be like mine. Look
down. Back up. Where are you? You're on Facebook, reading the status
your status could be like! Anything is possible when your Facebook
status looks like this one. I'm in a chair....heyahh!
August 25, 2010 at 9:31am
Clancy...
is a fan of her husband's broad shoulders and extremely tan arms.
August 23, 2010 at 10:39pm
Did you know that there is now a CHOICE of restrooms in my house now!? It's all so awesome.
August 13, 2010 at 12:31am
Brynja rolled over today! Took her time with that one, so Mom was extra excited.
July 30, 2010 at 11:29am
I'm thinking of starting my own business: Professional Time Waster. If you need time wasted, I'm your girl.
July 12, 2010 at 12:31pm
It's going to have to be just these posts for toinght. I'm totally falling asleep at the keyboard. Literally....
Rohan sees Brynja getting sleepy in the car, leans over to her to sing her a song and leans back to me, "Mom, I forgot that song, what's It called... 'Baby in a tree'?
Me: 'Rock a bye baby'?
Rohan: "Yeah, rock a bye baby..." and he leans over and start singing it to Brynja. So cute.
May 17 at 1:00pm
I owe a public apology to my daughter, Brynja Leigh. I wrongfully accused her of throwing my cell phone charger in the garbage, when really I just moved it into her room to listen to Pandora while I was cleaning one time and I... ahem... forgot.
Sorry, baby girl.
August 17 at 9:37am
Dear Tuesday,
You might be my favorite day of the week for the simple fact that you are not Monday.
Affectionately,
Clancy
August 16 at 3:39pm
"Today was more awesome then a shark high-fiving a bear during an explosion in outer space." ....Today hasn't necessarily been that awesome, but this quote had to be stolen from my friend, Dan's status. HA!!
May 17 at 1:00pm
Rohan declared that because it was SUCH a nice day, we HAVE to have a "pigNic"! He got out the blanket, spread it carefully, grabbed the basket I store plastic-wear in, and grabbed a handfull of pretzels. Then he asked me if I'd like him to make me a PBJ.
That's what I call a Motherhood Prize... Happy Mother's Day to me!
May 05, 2011
Rohan: Mom, why is it that farmers get to have all this lucky stuff?
April 25 at 5:53pm
You know your baby has three older siblings when she toots and then laughs while she looks up to see who's laughing with her.
April 19 at 10:05am
Dear Stranger Who Knocked at My Door-
You are weird. When you knock and get no answer, why do you feel like it's ok to open up my door and put a business card *inside* my house in my daughter's shoe asking me if I want to sell my car? I feel a little violated. Maybe I should lock my door at 10:30 am more often? Thanks for the heads up, crazy.
Sincerely,
Clancy
March 3 at 12:04pm
I gotcha this time, Dinner. HAHA!! I planned for the whole week and you're so done. I'll see you tomorrow in some split-pea soup.
February 16 at 12:19am
Rohan @ lunch says to me... Mom, you're just a little bit old.
Me... Oh? Just a little bit?
Rohan, in clarification... Yeah, just *barely* old.
♥
February 10 at 1:09pm
Teaching my baby girl the fine art of sitting by the heater. She's so precious... and heat seeking.
February 9 at 8:39am
Just met a little girl named clancy. It was a little surreal, like I was observing some younger version of myself.
February 4 at 3:14pm
had to share from my brother's status update... Taylor, you're hilarious.
"...and ya know, dentists need to invent a keyboard to type on while your mouth is jacked open so you can still communicate!!! haha
Dentist - "oh, how are you doin, doin ok?"
Me - "hhcccchhhaaaaalllaaaaaawaancchhhhaa"
Dentist - "o good,... let me know if it hurts"
Me - "hhhrrraaaachchhahaaa
February 2 at 11:48am
Rohan: I can't believe its still snowy and it's already a different week.
January 20 at 4:09pm
Curse the traffic engineers who decided to change Holmes' traffic pattern. May your dogs get fleas and your cats throw-up on your pillow. And if you don't have pets, traffic engineers, I curse you to run out of windshield washer fluid while driving in Utah!
January 8 at 2:22pm
Rohan says to me, totally randomly: Mom, some day I want to go to a Massage Factory.
Me, stifling laughter: A massage factory?
Rohan: Yeah, you know... one of those places that you get a massage? And it's made of rock on the outside and the inside?
Still not sure what he meant, but man it was funny.
December 11, 2010 at 7:28am
Weather channel app on my phone told me that in @
Atlanta georgia, it was 57 degrees and that it feels like 57 degrees. I told to the phone to find my location..
1 degree, and it feels like -16 degrees. What an awesome day to live in Idaho.
November 24, 2010 at 11:54pm
Baby B cut two teeth, started crawling and took her first steps all in the same week.
November 22, 2010 at 10:01am
Rohan takes a drink of his water thats been in the cold car all night: "this is Brrrzing water, Mom!"
Me: Brrrzing, huh?
Rohan: Yeah feel. (He puts it on my hand) Brrrrr! It's cold!!!
I ♥ Rohan.
November 17, 2010 at 2:16pm
Dear Autumn, thank you for your boastful and lingering display. Do me one favor and tell Winter we could do without the preview of his cold, blustery gifts.
November 8, 2010 at 12:19pm
Rohan... "mom, are we nephites?"
Me..."uhhh... no, not really."
R... "so we're Samaritans?"
Me... "uhhh... no."
R... "so, what are we then?"
Me... "Gentiles?" (Are we?)
R... "but Samaritans talk like this, right? "
Me..."uhhh....what?"
Cutest kid ever.
October 22, 2010 at 3:13pm
Hello friends.
Look at your status. Now back to mine. Now back to your status, now
back to mine. Sadly, your status isn't mine. But if you stopped posting
other things and made this your status, yours could be like mine. Look
down. Back up. Where are you? You're on Facebook, reading the status
your status could be like! Anything is possible when your Facebook
status looks like this one. I'm in a chair....heyahh!
August 25, 2010 at 9:31am
Clancy...
is a fan of her husband's broad shoulders and extremely tan arms.
August 23, 2010 at 10:39pm
Did you know that there is now a CHOICE of restrooms in my house now!? It's all so awesome.
August 13, 2010 at 12:31am
Brynja rolled over today! Took her time with that one, so Mom was extra excited.
July 30, 2010 at 11:29am
I'm thinking of starting my own business: Professional Time Waster. If you need time wasted, I'm your girl.
July 12, 2010 at 12:31pm
It's going to have to be just these posts for toinght. I'm totally falling asleep at the keyboard. Literally....
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Hmmm.....
You know what phrase is strange? "One tough cookie".
Why a cookie? When cookies get overdone I wouldn't describe them as tough. I can't think of any situation involving cookies in which I would incorporate the word "tough". I would be thinking more along the lines of crispy, or blackened, or crunchy.
"He's one crunchy cookie."
That just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?
It would make more sense to say, "He's one tough steak," or something like that. Don't you think?
"He's one tough piece of leather."
"She's one tough Kevlar suit."
Just a passing thought as I was clearing the dinner dishes tonight...
Why a cookie? When cookies get overdone I wouldn't describe them as tough. I can't think of any situation involving cookies in which I would incorporate the word "tough". I would be thinking more along the lines of crispy, or blackened, or crunchy.
"He's one crunchy cookie."
That just doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?
It would make more sense to say, "He's one tough steak," or something like that. Don't you think?
"He's one tough piece of leather."
"She's one tough Kevlar suit."
Just a passing thought as I was clearing the dinner dishes tonight...
Thursday, July 28, 2011
On My Mind
For some reason, today, I can't stop thinking about my Grandma Carol. It's been five years, now, since she passed away. I can't believe it's been so long since I've seen her. I just realized, she would be 80 years old now.
She had a magic about her. She moved through the world with such grace and love. Anytime you were with her, she made you feel like the most important person in the world.
I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah. I lived in the same house my whole life, the same house in which my dad spent most of his growing up years. When I was a senior in high school, my parents felt impressed to move away to Idaho. We were then about 200 miles from all our Salt Lake family, my grandma included. Anytime I tell people this they assume that this was a really hard thing for me to do, moving my senior year of high school. And to them I always say that if my parents had forced me to go, it probably would have been, but my dad would always say when the topic of me moving to Idaho arose, "We'll do what's right." I was dead-set that the right thing was for me to stay in Utah and graduate with all my friends. My friend Erin's parents offered me a place to stay, as did my Grandma. I was sure I was staying.
Eventually, I had another experience, which I won't go into right now, that opened my mind to the possibility of moving. I realized that I could make a whole new set of friends if I moved. I could be the mysterious "new girl" for the first time in my life. And I'm sure I was not conscious about it then, but I probably wouldn't have had a very easy time without my family around me. I have an awesome family. And so, I decided to move.
Why am I telling you this story? Because today, in one of the many moments I felt my Grandmother's grace alight on my heart, I realized how blessed I was to make the choice to move to Idaho. I think, had I stayed in Utah, that I would have lived, not with my Grandma Carol, but with my friend, Erin. Her house was closer to everything... school, work, friends... and she was my FRIEND! How cool would that be to live with one of my best friends? (I didn't know at the time that living with friends has good points, but it is also full of challenges.) So, I chose to move and with that choice came the opportunity of coming back to Salt Lake City to visit.
From the time we moved in 1995 until the time my precious Grandma passed away in 2006, whenever we'd come back to Salt Lake (which was frequent) we would stay at her house. For ten years I was graciously welcomed into her home. And when I became a wife, she welcomed my husband as warmly as she did her own granddaughter. When my children came along, she adored them and thrilled to have them in her house. I know it's not easy to have small children in your house, especially when you're used to quiet, but her generous heart never faltered.
When I was staying there for our family Christmas parties, I would help her in her preparations. I would set tables, arrange relish trays, move chairs, decorate her Christmas tree, peel potatoes, cook hams, vacuum, shine sinks and make cookies. She did so much that I was completely unaware of before I got the chance to be there for the prep. It was my joy to help her and she always made me feel like she couldn't have done it without me, even though we both know that for all of my life before 1995, she did just that.
Every year she would make her special clam dip. She had a special fork that she kept at the back of her silverware drawer... it was her clam-dip-cream-cheese stirring fork. She just liked the way it felt in her fingers... those fingers that I can still see holding that fork. We had so much fun, laughing as we made ready for all those she so devoutly loved.
She was, quite simply, the most delightful human being I've ever encountered on this earth.
She had a poem framed in her kitchen window sill that her friend, Kaye, had written for her. I've read it so many times, I don't think I could forget it if I tried. It went like this:
Carol-
Your sunflower self,
of bosom earth,
so caring,
warms the weary world.
How true it was. How true it is. She continues to warm this weary world in the memory of anyone who knew her.
I miss you fiercely, Grandma.
She had a magic about her. She moved through the world with such grace and love. Anytime you were with her, she made you feel like the most important person in the world.
I grew up in Salt Lake City, Utah. I lived in the same house my whole life, the same house in which my dad spent most of his growing up years. When I was a senior in high school, my parents felt impressed to move away to Idaho. We were then about 200 miles from all our Salt Lake family, my grandma included. Anytime I tell people this they assume that this was a really hard thing for me to do, moving my senior year of high school. And to them I always say that if my parents had forced me to go, it probably would have been, but my dad would always say when the topic of me moving to Idaho arose, "We'll do what's right." I was dead-set that the right thing was for me to stay in Utah and graduate with all my friends. My friend Erin's parents offered me a place to stay, as did my Grandma. I was sure I was staying.
Eventually, I had another experience, which I won't go into right now, that opened my mind to the possibility of moving. I realized that I could make a whole new set of friends if I moved. I could be the mysterious "new girl" for the first time in my life. And I'm sure I was not conscious about it then, but I probably wouldn't have had a very easy time without my family around me. I have an awesome family. And so, I decided to move.
Why am I telling you this story? Because today, in one of the many moments I felt my Grandmother's grace alight on my heart, I realized how blessed I was to make the choice to move to Idaho. I think, had I stayed in Utah, that I would have lived, not with my Grandma Carol, but with my friend, Erin. Her house was closer to everything... school, work, friends... and she was my FRIEND! How cool would that be to live with one of my best friends? (I didn't know at the time that living with friends has good points, but it is also full of challenges.) So, I chose to move and with that choice came the opportunity of coming back to Salt Lake City to visit.
From the time we moved in 1995 until the time my precious Grandma passed away in 2006, whenever we'd come back to Salt Lake (which was frequent) we would stay at her house. For ten years I was graciously welcomed into her home. And when I became a wife, she welcomed my husband as warmly as she did her own granddaughter. When my children came along, she adored them and thrilled to have them in her house. I know it's not easy to have small children in your house, especially when you're used to quiet, but her generous heart never faltered.
When I was staying there for our family Christmas parties, I would help her in her preparations. I would set tables, arrange relish trays, move chairs, decorate her Christmas tree, peel potatoes, cook hams, vacuum, shine sinks and make cookies. She did so much that I was completely unaware of before I got the chance to be there for the prep. It was my joy to help her and she always made me feel like she couldn't have done it without me, even though we both know that for all of my life before 1995, she did just that.
Every year she would make her special clam dip. She had a special fork that she kept at the back of her silverware drawer... it was her clam-dip-cream-cheese stirring fork. She just liked the way it felt in her fingers... those fingers that I can still see holding that fork. We had so much fun, laughing as we made ready for all those she so devoutly loved.
She was, quite simply, the most delightful human being I've ever encountered on this earth.
She had a poem framed in her kitchen window sill that her friend, Kaye, had written for her. I've read it so many times, I don't think I could forget it if I tried. It went like this:
Carol-
Your sunflower self,
of bosom earth,
so caring,
warms the weary world.
How true it was. How true it is. She continues to warm this weary world in the memory of anyone who knew her.
I miss you fiercely, Grandma.
Ella and Grandma Carol, 2002.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Because It Moved Me
A hundred years ago, I wrote about when I was going to our local sidewalk art show, and how much I loved my own original artwork that I've purchased. Well, the sidewalk art show was this last weekend. I only had about an hour to cruise around and view the lovely artwork, but I was going because I love it SO much. There was one booth that is there every year, a guy who carves walking sticks with old-man faces. This is not usually a booth that interests me, but my kids wanted to check it out, so in we went. As I was glancing around the booth, I turned to the south wall and saw the most amazing things. There were only three of them, barn wood pieces painted with black and white portraits of Native Americans. The one in the middle grabbed me. I couldn't stop looking at it. It was an old Native American man in profile. He was looking far off. He was aloof and ghost-like. It reminded me of my grandfather who is 1/4 Cherokee (I think that's the right tribe...?).
I spoke to the artist for a good 15 minutes. He doesn't do many of these, never enough for a whole series. The barn wood is difficult to obtain. He uses real photographs of Native Americans from a book he has and he only likes to spend about an hour on each piece... just gets a feel for the shapes, shadows and highlights. A.MAZ.ING. I was entranced.
As I chatted with the artist, I kept thinking I would walk away from the booth. I got his email address so I could have him email me more of these pieces as he did them. I was going to leave. Every time I tried, I found myself worried to leave because what if somebody bought this piece? I watched people walk into his booth and if they looked in the direction of my lovely old Indian man, I found myself stepping a little closer to it, to make sure they knew I was already interested in it. I felt like it was mine and I had to defend it and protect it from everyone else.
After the fourth or fifth time I tried to leave, and the fourth or fifth time I "protectively" stepped closer to it, I realized that if I didn't buy this and take it home, I would regret it forever. And it only cost as much as a tank of gas in my van, for heaven's sake!
"I'm going to buy this right now," I told the artist. "I can't leave it here."
"Great!" he responded.
I discovered I was out of checks, but said that he could take cards. (no power or phone lines, so I was surprised...) He pulled out his "Jurassic" credit card machine... you know the ones you swipe on carbon paper? Awesome. He was all old-school. I left with my Native American barn wood painting.
I came home and hung it on a wall... perhaps a temporary spot, but I had to have it up. I stare at it all the time. Ella even said to me today, "Mom, why do you keep staring at that?"
Because I love it and I can't help it... and that's how I know I made the right decision.
I spoke to the artist for a good 15 minutes. He doesn't do many of these, never enough for a whole series. The barn wood is difficult to obtain. He uses real photographs of Native Americans from a book he has and he only likes to spend about an hour on each piece... just gets a feel for the shapes, shadows and highlights. A.MAZ.ING. I was entranced.
As I chatted with the artist, I kept thinking I would walk away from the booth. I got his email address so I could have him email me more of these pieces as he did them. I was going to leave. Every time I tried, I found myself worried to leave because what if somebody bought this piece? I watched people walk into his booth and if they looked in the direction of my lovely old Indian man, I found myself stepping a little closer to it, to make sure they knew I was already interested in it. I felt like it was mine and I had to defend it and protect it from everyone else.
After the fourth or fifth time I tried to leave, and the fourth or fifth time I "protectively" stepped closer to it, I realized that if I didn't buy this and take it home, I would regret it forever. And it only cost as much as a tank of gas in my van, for heaven's sake!
"I'm going to buy this right now," I told the artist. "I can't leave it here."
"Great!" he responded.
I discovered I was out of checks, but said that he could take cards. (no power or phone lines, so I was surprised...) He pulled out his "Jurassic" credit card machine... you know the ones you swipe on carbon paper? Awesome. He was all old-school. I left with my Native American barn wood painting.
I came home and hung it on a wall... perhaps a temporary spot, but I had to have it up. I stare at it all the time. Ella even said to me today, "Mom, why do you keep staring at that?"
Because I love it and I can't help it... and that's how I know I made the right decision.
(not a very good picture of it, but you get the idea...
and you're just grateful that I posted a picture since it's not a forte of mine, right???)
Random Thoughts on a Monday Night
-My husband was in Louisiana for a week and I was living the single-mom life. I don't like that. I like being married and having my husband around. He's awesome. High fives for my awesome marriage and my kids' awesome daddy.
-There is something I want to do and I find myself gripped by fear about it. I remember times in my life where I have pushed through fear and doubt. I need to find that place in myself for this thing I want to do.
-Mac is at scout camp this week. My son is at scout camp. I forget he's gone and think I need to call him up for dinner or pick him up from his friend's house. It's very weird. I'm sure it will happen more frequently as the years press on. He turned 11 on the 15th of this month. How did that happen? He wears a men's shoe... size 7 1/2. What??? He's five feet tall. WHAT? He has armpit hair. WHAT!!!!? He's a real person and he's going to grow up to be this awesome funny human whom I LIKE and have fun with instead of this twerpy kid who I send to time out and who's mouth I wash with soap because he's a little sass-box. Life is so weird. And so awesome.
-Ella got a Toys R Us gift card for her birthday. We redeemed it today and she had a grand time choosing her own gift. She chose a wolf stuffed animal (wolves are her favorite animal), and a Magic 8 Ball. I've chuckled endlessly to myself while I listen to Ella and Rohan ask it questions.
Rohan: Ask it if I will go to outer space.
Ella asks.
Magic 8 Ball: YOU CAN COUNT ON IT
Rohan: WOW! I'm going to OUTER SPACE!!!
Rohan: Ask it if I'll see aliens.
Ella asks.
Magic 8 Ball: YES
Rohan: I'M GOING TO SEE REAL ALIENS!!
A minute later I've left the room and I'm washing dishes. Rohan runs in screaming with excitement, "MOM!!!! I'm going to BUILD my OWN rocket ship to get to outer space!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Those are the mommy-moments that make all those harder mommy-moments worth it.
-I made curry tonight for dinner. I love curry.
-I got a new purse. It's red leather. It's HAWT. I love it.
-Got my A/C fixed in my car a month or two ago and now it's not working again. LAMESAUCE. Seriously. Makes me want to cry.... or kick something.
-There is something I want to do and I find myself gripped by fear about it. I remember times in my life where I have pushed through fear and doubt. I need to find that place in myself for this thing I want to do.
-Mac is at scout camp this week. My son is at scout camp. I forget he's gone and think I need to call him up for dinner or pick him up from his friend's house. It's very weird. I'm sure it will happen more frequently as the years press on. He turned 11 on the 15th of this month. How did that happen? He wears a men's shoe... size 7 1/2. What??? He's five feet tall. WHAT? He has armpit hair. WHAT!!!!? He's a real person and he's going to grow up to be this awesome funny human whom I LIKE and have fun with instead of this twerpy kid who I send to time out and who's mouth I wash with soap because he's a little sass-box. Life is so weird. And so awesome.
-Ella got a Toys R Us gift card for her birthday. We redeemed it today and she had a grand time choosing her own gift. She chose a wolf stuffed animal (wolves are her favorite animal), and a Magic 8 Ball. I've chuckled endlessly to myself while I listen to Ella and Rohan ask it questions.
Rohan: Ask it if I will go to outer space.
Ella asks.
Magic 8 Ball: YOU CAN COUNT ON IT
Rohan: WOW! I'm going to OUTER SPACE!!!
Rohan: Ask it if I'll see aliens.
Ella asks.
Magic 8 Ball: YES
Rohan: I'M GOING TO SEE REAL ALIENS!!
A minute later I've left the room and I'm washing dishes. Rohan runs in screaming with excitement, "MOM!!!! I'm going to BUILD my OWN rocket ship to get to outer space!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Those are the mommy-moments that make all those harder mommy-moments worth it.
-I made curry tonight for dinner. I love curry.
-I got a new purse. It's red leather. It's HAWT. I love it.
-Got my A/C fixed in my car a month or two ago and now it's not working again. LAMESAUCE. Seriously. Makes me want to cry.... or kick something.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
The Android and the Tooth Fairy
If you are, at times, a person of *ahem* forgetfulness and your child loses a tooth first thing in the morning, might I suggest putting a little reminder in your phone, be it Android or otherwise, to perform your Tooth Fairyish duties that night?
It sure saved my bacon.
Thank you, Android.
It sure saved my bacon.
Thank you, Android.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)