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Showing posts from February, 2011

cowtown playlist

This morning my alarm clock went off at the usual time. 5:37 am.
Forced down a powerbar and a bottle of water.
The unusual part. It is a weekend.
Saturday mornings don’t usually start until after 8 and they almost always involve donuts.

I laced up my sneakers. Downloaded a few tunes and turned on the porch light.
Because the sun still wasn’t up.
And shortly after 6 am I got a text from my friend.
“I am heterosexual”
She meant to say “I am here”
And I have never loved autocorrect more.

And we drove downtown and our exit looked like a weekday at rush hour instead of a Saturday morning at 6:20.
I had seriously underestimated the number of people running the 10K.
We parked.
We pinned on our bibs.
We peed in smelly portapotties.
And we waited with hoards of runners for the start.

And I run on a regular enough basis.
At the gym. And I hate the treadmill. With a passion. And never make it very far before my knee starts hurting or I want to switch machines or go downstairs and get a smoothi…

a baby changes everything.



When I had kids my world changed. Everything changed.
Sortof.

I mean I don’t go to nearly as many movies. I can’t just take off for a run whenever I want. I buy a lot more fruit snacks and Capri suns. I try to be a little more responsible with my money. I go through a lot more drive thrus. I watch more cartoons. I have to watch my step in the middle of the night not to step on legos and hot wheels.

But.
I often feel guilty for it not changing enough.
I still have coffee with friends. I still go on dates with my husband. I still run races. I still read lots of books. I still don’t make my bed. I still go on the occasional road trip. Without my kids. I have missed a few soccer games. I don’t play kids music in the car (although there are a few songs that I have to skip).

And 90% of the time I feel ok about that.
That I am teaching my kids that they are important.
But maybe they aren’t the center of the universe.
That I am showing them how to cultivate their own relationships and i…

my first dance

My wedding day is a little bit of a blur. And it was a great day. But so many people and so much going on and so many moments that it is hard to remember them all clearly without the help of photographs.
But I totally remember my first dance as a bride.
And it wasn’t with my husband.
Or even my father, or brother.

I had quickly kicked off my heels and hid them underneath a table. Said my hellos and hugs and smiled until my face hurt. Someone ushered us through the buffet line and I piled my plate with hors d'oeuvres and headed to a table. But before I could pop a single shrimp in my mouth someone grabbed me firmly by the arm and pulled me onto the dance floor and into a jitterbug before I could protest.
It was my husband’s granddaddy.
A man I had only met about a few times and heard say about as many words. So I was a little surprised when he spun me around the dance floor.
Eventually that night I danced with my husband. And my dad. And probably even my brother.
But my first dance…

awkward family photos

This year I’ve earned a bit of a reputation as a prankster. I won’t incriminate myself too badly here…but one of my milder but still fantastic pranks involves going to awkwardfamilyphoto.com. Finding the most awful pictures that I can, slipping them into frames and placing them strategically around people’s office or classroom. It is a good joke every time. The more ridiculous the picture the better.


I’ve mentioned this before.
That I know that I love my kids well,
But I often doubt that I parent well.

We watch more cartoons that we should. I go through the drive thru. I occasionally use language I shouldn’t. I’m late to soccer practice. I don’t know what to do when he keeps getting in trouble at school. I let them stay up too late. My car is a disaster zone of coffee cups, juice boxes, extra clothes and fruit snacks embedded into the seat. My kids sing along to the Beastie Boys. Sometimes we eat around the table, but sometimes we eat in the car. And sometimes we say our prayers and…

a little bit of love and some songs.

It is tired and I'm late. Or something like that.

So just a little bit of Valentines love and a tune.

Loved hanging out with my husband and laughing last night.
Loved our dates tonight. Shaun got Tess and McDonalds, princess dresses and my little pony.  Owen requested shrimp tacos and Gnomio and Juliet. I totally got the better end of that deal and hopefully we started a new tradition of taking our kids out on fun dates for Valentines.

I skipped the playlist this week...but made a valentines one last year, and it would pretty much be the same.  Although I would probably add this one:


And I am sure this is sacreligous or something but I didn't read 1 Corinthians 13 at my wedding. And I promise I got married in a church. Instead a friend read these verses and they are still some of my favorites on love:

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.  Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is lo…

leftovers

(this is totally me cheating. a repost from several years ago. but our discussion at church this morning made me think of it. In short we were talking about what we offer to God, and how he often ends up with the leftovers...and how maybe we are missing out by holding so much back).

I was walking down the street in Chicago, a late 20 something man and woman walked out of an office building. Obviously just off work. She had on a boring tan business suit and then you look down and see these very cool slip on tennis shoes with a fun print. I am in awe. Just by a quick glance at her feet, I think she is cool. I would want to be her friend….well you know if she wasn't just some random girl on the street. And then I had dinner and forgot about her.


The next morning I was strolling down Michigan avenue and see those same amazing shoes in the window at Payless. Yes, Payless. The magnificent mile in Chicago is known for its exclusive shopping with places like Hermes, Cartier and Tiffany – …

talking to myself about nothing.

snow bored?

What to do on a snow day?


I just googled that and landed on a great mommy blog full of 21 great snow day ideas. Like blog, bake, clean, read your bible, do your homework, play a boardgame, catch up with your friends on facebook, make cards for the elderly, etc.
And those aren’t bad ideas. If you are Jane Brady. And this isn’t your 5th snow day in the last 10 days and you have already exhausted almost everything. Watched every movie, played every game and gained a good 5 pounds. And sleet is not nearly as fun to play in as snow….

Instead let me offer my list of 21 things.

1. Get out all your old highschool junior high pictures and scan them and upload into facebook. Your friends will love that. Especially if they had braces and ever rocked a side ponytail.
2. Switch out all your husband’s games and movies and put them in new cases. It will be like a scavenger hunt for him. And again. Pretty sure he will appreciate the thoughtfulness.
3. Play the dress like your toddler who dressed her…

forgetting defines me

I am really good at forgetting.

I forget where I put my keys. And my copies. And any official form I was supposed to fill out and return.
I forget to pay the water bill.
I forget my passwords.
I forget friend’s birthdays.
I forget meetings.
I forget that I was supposed to bring the snack to my son’s soccer game.
I forget to take the clothes out of the washing machine and put them in the dryer. For like a week. And then they have that horrible mildewy smell that is almost impossible to get rid of.
I forget to think before I speak.
I forget to charge my phone.
And I occasionally forget my way.
Both literally and figuratively.

And mostly I feel that these are due to my lack of organizational skills.
That maybe if I put everything in my calendar, like my husband keeps begging me to do, that I would be better about remembering.

And let’s be honest.
I am selectively forgetful.
Meaning I almost never forget a coffee date.
Payday.
When my favorite show comes on.
The lines to my favorite so…

What does he sound like?

It was late. And I’d already tucked in my son.

And re-tucked him in after he got up the first time.
And I should have already been in bed myself.
But school was canceled again so I was sitting on the couch checking facebook, watching late night TV, reading blogs and wasting time.

And he called for me.
And so I shut down the computer and crawled into his bed.
I let his buzzed hair tickle my chin while I kissed the top of his head and asked what was wrong.
And he said that he was scared.
And that he didn’t have anyone.
And that I got to sleep with dad every night and couldn’t I just sleep with him for a little while. And I told him that Tess was right next door and that we were just down the hall and that maybe the dog could sleep with him.

And of course that he was never really alone.
And that when he gets scared he could pray.
And since he is only five and prayer has always been a bit elusive to me.
I asked him if he knew what that meant to pray.
I mean we do it sometimes at night an…

i was made for sunny days: snowday playlist

Snow Day #4. And we all have serious cabin fever. Don't get me wrong I love a good snow day as much as anyone else. But mostly these have just been ice days. (until this morning). And so far we have played uno, skipbo, crazy8s, sung and danced in the living room, made a fort, colored (mostly on each other), made things out of playdo, decorated cookies, made chilli and soup and waffles, and eaten it all and then some, watched every movie we own, stayed up late, slept in and when I couldn't take it anymore slid on the ice to get coffee and more colors and more movies and more food to cook and eat. When I got the text yesterday that it was looking like no school again, I personally offered to get out my hair dryer and get to work on the parking lots. Who knew I would want to go to work so bad. And my son is begging to go back to school. I havnen't seen him want something so bad since those damn pillow pets commercials started playing on the TV every five minutes. And this morni…

who i am not.

The older I get the more I realize I can’t do.

I’m too old to try out for American Idol (that and I can’t carry a tune to save my life).
I’ll never be Homecoming Queen.
Or win a spelling bee.
I’ll never go to med school. Or be an astronaut. Or be a secret agent.
Or score a winning goal in the state playoffs.

And I’m not really a girl to pay attention to limits or rules or age restrictions.
I still order kids meals and play on the playground (sometimes even when my kids aren’t there). Lack of athletic ability didn’t stop me from completing a sprint triathalon or playing soccer. I’ve sung karaoke (we’ve already mentioned that these are skills I don’t have), I’ve danced in public (and I’m so bad), I’ve jumped off a cliff (even though I am petrified of heights). I’ve gotten tattoos and pierced my nose even though I’m pretty sure over 30 is past the window for that kind of crazy. And all kinds of ridiculous other things. But let’s face. The door is closing or has already closed on some thi…

stamp sheets

Lately my son has been getting in trouble at school.

Repeatedly.
And it isn’t big stuff.
Little silly boy things.
Like not staying in his seat at lunch. Being silly. Talking. Not getting his work done.
You know. Pretty much a typical day for me.

And every once in awhile I don’t mind and I know how to handle it.
No video games. No playing outside with the neighbors.
A stern talk about listening and respect.
And of course the assurance that I love him no matter what. No matter how many stamps or bad notes he gets.

But we are on day 4 of no stamps.
And he gets in the car and his little chin quivers.
And my tears fall before his do.
And we get home and he goes straight to his room and climbs into bed.
At 4:30 in the afternoon.
And I coax him out.
Assure him that we all have bad days. And that he can try again tomorrow.

But tomorrow it is the same thing.
And I wonder if I need to get sterner. Amp up the punishment.
Or pour on the love and reassurance that he is good even if he can’t sit…