Bits for Sunday, June 15, 2008

Today I bring to you a story that fits neatly into the part of my life I lovingly call, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Nothing tragic. Just annoying.

I came home during my lunch hour on Thursday to find my street being jackhammered open. Specifically right in front of my house. Trucks and backhoes surrounded my entire property, so I parked a couple of houses down and picked my way (in heels and a skirt) through the weeds and overgrowth of the sidewalk between my new parking place and my house. Several men looked at me from their various tasks as I scampered up onto my porch to check my mail – but no one said a word.

Allow me to say that about two or three weeks ago, some unintelligible spray paint markings appeared on the street in front of the house next door, so when I came home one day to find a hole there, I wasn’t surprised. No one had spray painted in front of my house. This was very much a surprise.

All this happened the day gas prices went up by twenty-some odd cents, and I spent my lunch hour trying (unsuccessfully) to beat the hike. I came back at the end of my lunch hour, precariously balancing a sloshing gas can in one hand and a pizza and sweating Styrofoam cup in the other. The men stared again. No one said a word.

Normally I allow myself to be irritated by things like this, but I never say anything to anyone directly related to said annoyance. This time they caught me at the worst possible time. A hot day, pre-food. So I marched in the house and ripped the phone book out of the end table to find the number for the company. I found a toll free number and called it, chomping down the pepperoni pizza while listening to the entirely too perky automated lady. I finally said I was a new homeowner in need of service, because there wasn’t a number to push for annoyed hungry girl whose street is being ripped apart.

A less than helpful lady answered, and the best she could do for me was give me the number of the digging company. I called the digging company and this time I had to pretend I was a civilian in need of a hole on a new home property. The lady who answered that line said that she was so sorry but she would have no idea why they would be digging or how long it would last.

By that time my lunch hour was over, so I refilled the sweating drink and tromped back out to my car, past the non-verbal worker men, who were making the hole bigger by the moment. Later in the afternoon, I looked up the company website and discovered you could complete an online complaint form. PERFECT. I wrote out the most beautiful explanation of what had happened, trying to remain kind while being firm about asking if it was customary to limit the access of one’s property without first issuing a courtesy call or leaving a note in the mailbox. I hit send and received the following notice:

“Your message is too long.”

Are you KIDDING me??? You’re going to cut off an angry non-customer? I cut it down some, trying to leave as much of the love as I could. Hit send. “Your message is too long.” By the time the stupid thing went through, it basically said, “Hi, I’m not a customer, you dug up my street, why didn’t you tell me first, and when are you leaving?” For that, I received an auto-reply of my very valuable case number and the promise of a response within 24 hours. Whatever.
When I came home after work, the hole was about 12-15 feet long, 4 feet wide, and about a person deep. Lovely, attractive cones and construction “thingies” were guarding the hole with crime scene tape blowing in the breeze.



AND part of my yard had been demolished. Never mind that two feet away from said demolition was a perfectly HORRIBLE unattended yard of weeds – which remained untouched and horrible.


Above: My "good" yard.

Above: The "yard" next door.

Above: They chose to dig up my decent yard over the weedy yard.
As would be the case, I had the next day off work, and I had barely been up ten minutes when the sound of jackhammers resonated throughout the block. They’re baaaaaaack! Yes, they were back – digging a fresh hole across the street and once again blocking my property. Had they awakened me, I might have been tempted to march out on the porch in all my bed-head, droopy mascara glory to say, “SCUSE ME!!! I’M SLEEPING IN HERE!!!” (Nah, I’m too much of a chicken.)

I had plans to go to the mall that day and declared under my breath that I would go to the mall, even if they had to taxi me there in one of their dump trucks.

About midmorning, I looked out to see a cement truck parked across my driveway, filling in the massive grave that had been gracing the front of my house. I marched outside, walked up to one of the smoking workers and said in my nicest voice, “Excuse me – do you happen to know how much longer this might take? I need to leave soon.” The smoky guy stared at me much as he and the crew had done the day before, but the cement guy said, “Is this your driveway?” I wanted to say, “Um, yes, this one that goes with the house that you just watched me walk out of?? Yes, that is mine.” Instead I smiled sweetly and nodded. He promised me he’d be done in five minutes (which he was) and I went back inside to gather up my lists and go.

By the time I left, the crews had disappeared (probably for lunch), leaving behind them two fresh holes directly across the street from my driveway. As I carefully maneuvered out into the street, trying to avoid the wet cement to one side and the potholes to end all potholes on the other side, I muttered, “I shouldn’t have to hang a professional driver, closed course sign on my car just to leave home.”

And when I got home a few hours later, just shortly after the twenty four hour deadline of the complaint center, I found a brief and less than loved-on message in my inbox. It frankly told me that because I’d neglected to leave my address, they couldn’t be sure of the reason for the digging. (Oh but the address was there. UNTIL YOU MADE ME SHORTEN THE MESSAGE!!!) They also assured me that holes are never left overnight, so I could know their work would last less than a day. (Really? Are you sure about that?? Because of the now four holes that have appeared on my street, ALL of them lasted at least overnight. Some lasted several overnights longer than that.)

But on the bright side – in case of storms, any drivers on our street definitely would have had a safe underground place to hide!

Such Good Sports...

Since tomorrow is Father's Day, I thought I would post this picture of what I wanted to get Dad for his holiday. When we were out in Kansas for Cassie's graduation, I found this Kansas City Chiefs tie in the little Goodwill-esque store. (SO wish I could remember the name of it! I know it. I just can't think of it.) Anyway, he just kind of gave me that "yeah right" look, so I made him at least pose with it.

I printed this picture today and it will be on the card he receives. It will give me the opportunity to use my sports stamp set. Dad really isn't a sports guy, so Father's Day cards are always a challenge. He doesn't fish or hunt or participate in anything else that they make "boy stamp sets" for...so this is my chance!

Meanwhile, Mom was a pretty good sport by helping me out with my latest and greatest "spruce up the house" project. I moved my couch into the former dining room (which is in process of becoming my office, but it's a very slow process). The couch is green and white striped, and that room is my Americana room...so that presented a problem.

But the person who sold me the couch threw in the slipcover she'd purchased for it. It took me 35 minutes to iron that thing. That's longer than the combined amount of time I've ironed during the last three years. And I probably should have ironed it more than I did, but by that time I was bored.

Anyway, the pillows on the couch don't really go well under the slipcover, so I bought this material and passed it off to Mom to make me pillow covers. Mrs. Lee would not be proud. How many years of Home Ec did I take? I should be able to sew pillow covers!!


I told her I wanted the blue material to kind of wrap around like a bow on a gift. Mom came up with the little pleat idea on her own and I think it's as cute as it can be. Mrs. Lee can be proud of her. Thanks, Mom!

What a Precious Baby

Okay - here's the question of the day.

I realize that this may sound horrible, but it's a real question that one of my friends and I have. What do you say when you go to see a baby and you can't honestly say the baby is cute? I mean you REALLY can't say it? Is this just one of those times when you should lie and repent later? Or are there catch phrases that work without being obvious?

One of the ladies that I polled at work said that she cried so hard when someone told her that her baby boy was "sweet" because she knew that was code for "I have to say something nice and avoid saying he's cute because he's not." She also said that later, when she had another baby that she realized was awkward in appearance, she would just say so up front to ease the tensions of the potential compliment givers.

So...to avoid saying "What a precious baby!"....we need some ideas.

Bits for Sunday, June 8

I listen to the radio when I’m at work – Christian music station. I’m sure it will not shock you to know that without the radio station man behind the controls, I’d spend my day listening to David Phelps over and over and over…and then I’d start singing duets with him, and that would be no good for anyone in the office.

Anyway, one of the artists that my station plays is Mandisa. As in the former American Idol contestant. I was skeptical when they played her first single, because I didn’t care for it at all. But the second and third ones have been so beautiful…definitely worth the wait. One of these newer songs is called God Speaking. Part of the lyrics say “Who knows how He’ll get ahold of us? Get our attention to prove He is enough? He’ll do and He’ll use whatever He wants to, to tell us I love you.”

And God definitely uses methods that I’m sure are rather unconventional to get my attention…one of them being TV shows. I realize it is probably questionable to say that reality TV could be a method, but truly, I’ve had some of my biggest breakthrough moments from random things people have said on TV.

Last night I was journaling, and I turned on TV Land to see if they were playing Andy Griffith. (Yes, I’m old before my time in TV show choices.) He wasn’t on yet, but I was too busy writing to change the channel. They were playing She’s Got the Look which is yet another one of their attempts to give reality TV shows to the over forty crowd. This one is about women getting the chance to be a model after 35, when modeling careers tend to die.

It was the first show, and the judging panel sat before all the hopefuls, eliminating those who didn’t make the cut. One of the very last women to make it onto “the board” was a stunningly beautiful woman. (I wouldn’t have classified all of them as stunningly beautiful, but this one was in a league all her own.) The judges told her that they were unsure about keeping her because she was “too perfect.” During the first challenge (which I had missed), she would not allow herself to make a mistake. She couldn’t let a flaw show…she couldn’t be anything less than perfect, and they wanted her to allow imperfection into her life because if she didn’t, the women who saw her wouldn’t be able to relate.

As they gave her this advice, two giant tears rolled down her cheeks. They were right and she knew it.

I remember turning back to my computer, looking at the words I’d just journaled about how I felt like something seemed out of place. I couldn’t pinpoint it. I only knew that something wasn’t right.

And that’s when I felt the little nudge. It was no different than what I’ve been doing in my own heart lately. Please know that in saying this, I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’m well aware I am not. And I seem to be able to admit that to people, but I have a very difficult time admitting that to God.

I pray all the time. It’s a practice I learned very early on and whether or not I feel like it, I pray. But there are times I pray with more abandon than others. Perhaps even with more honesty. And then there are times I don’t say what I’m thinking – because I try to convince myself that if I don’t say it, it isn’t there. I don’t like to think about the questions and confusions. I don’t like to admit I have fears and disappointments.

It’s a crazy practice, I know. I mean, He’s God. He knows everything anyway. But for some reason, I find myself in these phases where if I say all the right things in my prayers – cover everyone else’s emergencies – ask for all the right things – maybe He won’t notice this giant pile of stuff that I’m hiding over in the corner. And maybe if I turn my back, I won’t notice the giant pile of stuff I’m hiding over in the corner.

And while those prayers that I’m so faithfully praying aren’t bad prayers…because I know they do accomplish a purpose…they aren’t accomplishing all they could, because they aren’t what they could be. Aren’t what they should be.

So after seeing that clip last night, I shut down the computer, went for the good old pen and paper journal, and started over. And this time I started uncovering the pile. I didn’t get through the whole thing by any means. But I dug up some of the imperfections and offered them over to God. It wasn’t really fun…but it felt strangely wonderful.

The Bible says “then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.” The truth is largely buried in of piles in the corners of lots of hearts. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who prefers to keep covering it up in the hope of looking “put together” to God. But there was a lot of freedom in unearthing the pile…in finding the truth.

So About the Storms....

....Remember my near stay in the Culver's cooler?? Well stupid me...I went out for dinner again last night. Must be the Friday night curse. Go out to eat, get caught in a storm. This time I headed home BEFORE it began, and I only had a ten minute drive at best, but as soon as I got in my car, the rain began and I drove all the way home in the storm. And of COURSE - I got every red light possible. Until they quit working.

This storm wasn't advertised (probably not the right word, but you know what I mean) to be as bad as last week's, but it sure did create a lot more damage in my part of the world! Halfway home the stoplights stopped working. I was on the phone with my Mom, who was keeping me updated from TV reports, and she reminded me (because I've only been driving for 14 years) that non-working stoplights become four-way stops. I hollered to her (I'd put her on speakerphone to be able to drive ten and two) that I knew that, but apparently the rest of the county was unaware, so I had to wait through all their turns before taking mine. Because face it. It really doesn't matter what the rule is...if no one observes said rule.

I drove around lots of tree portions down in the road - glad that I wasn't in those spots when they tumbled - and made it home safe and sound. I was a little unnerved that I had so much trouble keeping control of my car on a residential street. I'm used to that sort of wind turbulence on an open road. Not in the middle of a neighborhood.

Much of my part of town ended up losing power, but mine stayed on. Later last night, my former roomie came over because she was in the no-power part of town. We went for a drive to survey the tree damage. (What else do you do on a Friday night in a storm laden town?) On the way home, I noticed a strange (and huge) white cloud not far away. It scared me...so we stared at it for a while to see if it seemed to have strange movements. Then we saw flames. Oh...not a cloud. TONS of smoke. A business was quite on fire.

And of course, in true Marion fashion, all the people were gathered to gawk. And there I sat in the middle of them all, cell phone out, snapping a picture.

I wasn't sure if the power outage would affect work today - we have almost 150 freshmen and families on campus for registration. The last of four days of it. I wondered last night how that was going if the campus was without power, but evidently enough of the world was running today to let a slightly abbreviated form of registration continue.

So all of that to say...I'm just tired of storms. Especially on the weekend. But LET THE RECORD SHOW. I did get the yard mowed in record time between work and mayhem last night. thankyouverymuch.

Straggler Birthday Pictures

Some of my birthday pictures came to me later...here's a few more for you:

Lynnette made a long trip just to celebrate with me and I was so excited to have her there!


Aunt B 'n' me. Great minds think alike on color schemes don't they?

The Mama...this is one of my favorite recent pictures of the two of us. She should like it. For once she's taller. :)

SARAH!!!! :) Maker of the greatest mocha cupcakes on the planet.

And Julie - who also drove quite a distance. Isn't she cute? (She's gonna have a baby, in case the glow didn't give it away.)

Writing

My creativity seems to come in large phases. I like to commit an entire section of time to one thing. That is the good part. The bad part is that everything else goes by the wayside while I focus on my one thing. I've done a lot of scrapping lately. For weeks and weeks I scrapped - keeping my current album completely up to date, making Cassie's graduation gift, making my own baby album, starting on my "years 1-5" album, making the "tornado book." Now I'm looking ahead to Cassie's graduation album and my birthday book...but my scrapping skills need a tiny break.

So I went back to writing. It amazes me how eight hours at work can seem like fifty, and yet four or five hours in front of the computer writing at night can seem like ten minutes. How is that possible? I've lost about 2 hours of sleep per night because I can't stop writing. I hate that every morning when I wake up, but I don't hate it enough to stop. I have missed writing. If it weren't for blogging and journaling, I wouldn't have done much of it at all lately. It's a good feeling to be back into it.

And in only 9 more hours...I can do more. But who's counting?

Word of the Day

I'm watching The Mole on ABC. Loved this show when it ran for a couple of seasons a few years ago. I highly suspect my love of the show had less to do with the show itself and more to do with the host of those seasons, Anderson Cooper. Unfortunately Anderson isn't back for this season, but I'll watch anyway.

They just handed journals to the players so they could keep notes on what they observe amid the challenges.

One guy took the journal and said, "I don't need this. I have a photogenic memory."

Really?

Bits for Sunday, June 1

I have written before about my fear of storms. I’ve never been fond of them, but my fear grew rather significantly in the summer of 1998 when a tornado passed through town and I thought for sure my parents (who were watching from the front yard) were going to visit Oz. Each year that passed after that tornado, my fear subsided some, but my sister’s tornado (why do I call it that?? It’s not as if she owned it…) intensified the nerves again.

I don’t know what the weather was like in your piece of the planet Friday night, but here we experienced what the weather man called “tornadic activity.” That was a new one for me. Was it supposed to calm me somewhat? “Well, folks, we don’t really have a tornado, but we do have tornadic activity.” Oh. So that would explain why the tree in my backyard is knocking on the door. Got it.

At this time, I should probably mention that I don’t really watch the weather. My idea of watching the weather is sending an instant message to Kurt (at work) saying “Any idea if it’s supposed to rain tonight? I need to mow.” Kurt, who should receive a part time paycheck from the Weather Channel can bring me up to date in half the time it would take me to log onto the website, enter my zip code, decipher the map…

Kurt wasn’t at work on Friday and I didn’t need to mow, so consequently I failed to check the weather. I had plans to hang out in Kokomo with one of my friends from high school. She promised me we could breathe the Hobby Lobby air (moment of silence for its departure from my fine town…….) and then we could go out to eat. Better than a trip to Disney.

To my credit, I had heard that it might rain – perhaps even storm – that night. But you see, night to me means sometime after midnight when I don’t care. Even so, I made sure the umbrella was packed securely in the car. I changed into post workday clothing and headed to town. A Hobby Lobby town.

Oh….just to be inside the Hobby Lobby. It was amazing. I found $33 worth of clearance items that made my entire day. I walked out with visions of my bathroom mini-makeover dancing in my head. (Two of the purchases were for that adventure.) I kept walking, imagining cards I could make with the three new stamps. Just as I was about to plot the hanging of garden lanterns around the patio, I stopped to re-enter the conversation of where to eat.

Let me just say that we’re two girls who would rather eat a bowl of spinach than make a decision. We had several options and I was literally pulling paper out of my purse to write them down and draw one out when Amber said, “Let’s just go to Culver’s.” YAY!!! I had my heart set on ice cream anyway. (After telling this story to my niece last night, I realized not everyone may be familiar with Culver’s. It’s like Dairy Queen – only better. And bigger. And LOTS more windows. That will be meaningful in a minute.)

As we exited the car to go into Culver’s, I debated taking the umbrella. But it’s so big and I really thought we were safe for a while longer, so I left it. We settled into our booth to devour butter burgers (best invention in fast food EVER) and milkshakes…and it began to rain. Harder and harder. Then it began to blow. And I haven’t seen a lightning storm like that for…years, I’m sure. (Did I mention this place has lots of windows?) The employees, clearly not knowing my fear of storms, switched the TV to the Weather Channel, which was one giant blob of red, tickers, and buzzing. How comforting. Add to that the rather piercing storm sirens outside, and I began to exhibit the deer-in-headlight look.

Amber kept asking if I was okay, and I assured her I was…and truly I thought I was being honest. Then the manager made his rounds, informing each table of diners that should things get even the tiniest bit worse, we would all need to take shelter in the cooler. I took a look around at the people in the restaurant. With all due love and respect, Amber and I were in a vast minority on size. And we were the farthest from the cooler. So I was guessing by the time we got there – even if they’d tossed out all the custard mix and frozen butter burgers, there would not be room for us.

That’s when I called my parents. They were having a party…not a planned one. A storm party. The neighbors were over…they were hanging out in the basement…talking on the phone…having a grand time. I explained the impending cooler situation. And do you know what my mother said? My own mother? She said, “Well, at least if you die, you won’t decompose much.” I asked to speak to Dad. You know what he said? “Are you ready to die?” Well, yes, but I had rather hoped it wouldn’t be tonight in a cooler at Culver’s with a bunch of people twice my size and three times my age!

Fortunately the rather obnoxiously loud group of women behind me chose that moment to accidentally dump a salad on the floor…an action that led to a comment I can’t repeat in print and several minutes of literal cackling. Annoying, yes, but at least it provided a distraction.

About a half hour later, Amber and I decided we did not want to die in Culver’s, and the storm probably wouldn’t get worse or better before it closed, so we just left. I continued to regret my decision to leave the umbrella in the car. I stopped at my parents’ house on the way home and planned to hang out for a bit, but an uprooted tree in their yard made me wonder what I would find at my own place. And I was pretty sure the kiddos would be scared. So I left. I do think the kiddos were scared, but more than that, I think they were just annoyed that their evening treat was delayed by my night on the town.

I slept on the living room floor, in my shopping outfit, with the TV on. Not the best night of sleep ever, but it sure beat the daylights out of the Culver’s cooler with the cackling women.

The Strange Things I Do...

Can't even really believe that I am going to admit this in print, but here goes.

I can't really go into the details of it, but a lot of stuff has been going on in my world lately. Said stuff leaves me in a rotation of hope turning to sadness turning to questions turning to hurt, sometimes moving to anger, and then back to hope again. Basically I wear myself out running from one to the next. I know it's just a time I have to work through and that's fine...I'll do it. But every now and then, I need a break from it.

Last night I was talking to one of my friends online and about every fourth or fifth message, there would be a new game link for me to try. I'm a little disturbed that my favorite one was a game called "Snot Put." (PLEASE bear in mind this is an online game, NOT a real life game.) You pick the snot out of the nose, whirl it around, fling it, and see how far it goes. I know. GROSS. It truly was. But ADDICTING. I kept trying to beat my best fling, all the while saying, "WHY am I playing this? I am thirty and I have class. And yet I'm flinging virtual snot."

It did relieve some tension, though.

And in another game, I learned that without practice, I can type the alphabet in 6.133 seconds. I bet I could shave some serious time off that with a few tries.

So that was my stress reliever for the night...snot put, alphabet typing...and I concluded by singing a duet with David Phelps. (He was on the TV. HELLO!!! Do you think I'd be this calm about it if he'd been in person???)

It Just Doesn't End

Several weeks ago, blogger Jaena had this link in one of her posts. It's the blog of Todd Smith's wife. Todd sings in Selah, which is one of my favorite groups. LOVE their music. The blog tells the story of Todd and Angie's daughter that lived only a few hours after her birth. They knew prior to her birth that this would likely be the case and the blog tells about the time they shared together with her - VERY much a tear jerker.

Well, in the weeks since Audrey Caroline's death, the blog has included a lot of other posts of how they're able to reach out to others, and I've really enjoyed reading the updates. She writes in such a way that you just feel part of the family.

But today I heard on the radio that Todd's sister Nicol (who used to sing in Selah with him) lost her 2 month old son last night. She found him not breathing in his crib. Seven weeks, two babies, one family. That is incredible pain.

I lost a nephew when I wast ten and a "niece" when I was twenty-one. That was way too close together. I can't imagine two in seven weeks.

Three well known singers each losing a child in the span of a couple of months is a lot to take in. But if you have spare time, I would recommend reading Audrey Caroline's blog. Just take kleenex when you go.

Bits for Sunday, May 25th

One of my birthday gifts was an adorable sticker set for scrapping. Five or six pages, filled with words that look like they’re written on labels…perfect for pages and cards. Today I made the opening page to my birthday scrapbook. I used my biggest alphabet stamps to write out the date and event, and then I pilfered through the stickers, looking for words that I thought described me in a nutshell. (No, nutshell nor any other word resembling it was used.) One word I did find to fit on my descriptor page was quirky. I realize some of you may prefer to label me as weird, but I prefer quirky.

This caused me to think of some examples of said quirkiness. And so, I present to you…my top five quirks.

* I watch TV with the captions enabled. I have done this for so long that I forget not everyone does it. When people come over to my house, they ask about it immediately. That is usually followed by a request to make the words stop.

How did I start this strange behavior? It began in college. That was the first time in my life I’d shared a room with anyone, and one of the hardest things about the arrangement was learning to drown out a TV while I tried to go to sleep. The last roommate I had was a night owl like me, so it didn’t often create an issue, but sometimes one of us would have an early morning appointment or a test the next day, and sleep was important. We discovered that my TV had a caption option, so we learned to use it. That way the one who wanted to stay up could simply read Jay Leno’s monologue or the Huxtable’s latest teenage dilemma, and the other could sleep peacefully.

After a while, the captions became so routine that we left them on even when watching TV in the daytime. Now I have discovered that when I don’t watch captioned TV, I miss about 20% of the program. My friend Amber used to come over to watch a show every week, and she’d bring her two little boys with her. We turned on the captions and those boys could run and chatter throughout the house and we never missed a beat. So call me quirky, but at least I don’t have to say “What’d they say?”

* I cannot stand uneven blinds. This results in much teasing at work, but I can’t help it. The blinds on the windows should not be under-turned, or over-turned. They need to be perfectly straight for maximum viewing pleasure through to the other side.

I have been known to refuse to sit down for a meeting until all blinds are straightened…and I’ve been known to ask someone during a meeting to please fix the one messed up blind slat behind him or her. People in my office have been known to have a few ideas of their own…such as dragging their hands down the blinds just to throw off a dozen or so, and then taking great pleasure in watching me try not to cross my eyes or shiver.

* I am not a fan of shorthand in texts and instant messages. If it’s not shorthand – then whatever it’s called. Abbreviations. I don’t mind LOL (laughing out loud, just in case you don’t know) and I’ll use that one. But anything else needs to be written out in full. Maybe it’s the English lover in me. I’m not sure. But UR is not you are. Y is not why and B is not be. No wonder no one can write anymore!! (Okay now I’m sounding old. Time to stop.)

But I will say that while most of the abbreviations just annoy me, the use of TX for thanks actually offends me. Come on people. You can be grateful enough to add the extra four letters to type out a real word.

* I have a serious gum issue. And I don’t mean medically speaking. I have an aversion to gum, which has recently come to the attention of one of the girls in my office, and she is enjoying it entirely too much. She found this little wad of white sticky tack and she brings it back to my office, molds it into the shape of a wad of gum and hides it somewhere. Then she waits to see how long it takes me to find it and freak out.

I used to chew gum before I was diagnosed with TMJ and told to quit. But even when I was a participant, I couldn’t stand the sight of gum that wasn’t in someone’s mouth. In high school, I’d make my friends cover it up when they stuck it on their trays. At summer camp, the “gum plate” that was posted by the door to the dining hall…made me sick to my stomach. Gum on sidewalks, sticking to the side of trash cans, stuck under a DESK…ewwww!!! And now that I’m no longer a chewer, I find myself painfully aware of other people’s gum-gnawing habits. And if they pop it – FORGET IT. Wait for “the look” to begin.

* I must sit at the end of the row. I’m pretty well known for this at church. I prefer the end seat. If I don’t get the very end, I can accept spots two or three in – but no more. Where did this oddity start, you ask? One summer back in my college years, I went to a program in a large auditorium. Several older people from my church were with me and I was smack in the middle of the row. And halfway through the program I felt very sick. The aisle was about half a person wide, everyone’s legs were stretched out, and two or three of my crew came with walkers and canes that also took up some room. I almost never got out…and now…I won’t do that again!

So there you go. Quirks from Bekahland. And now that I have trusted you with this information, if I find you turning off my captions, raking your hands down the blinds, popping your gum, snatching up all the end seats, or writing me notes that say UR GR8, TX…

I’ll probably just roll my eyes and walk away.

Thirty and Lovin' It!

Finally! Some birthday pictures!! :) There are more to come, but here's a sampling of life on my birthday.

I decided that regardless of how anyone else came to the party (and casual was totally fine with me), I wanted to dress up. So I worked extra hard on the hair and got a new party dress. My sister Julie gave me jewelry that just so happened to fit perfectly with the outfit!

Happy Birthday From My Kiddos

My birthday (weather-wise) was actually quite a dreary day. I had taken the day off work just in case I melted down without warning, but even with the rain, there was no melting. For most of the day, I stayed home and watched TV, so I had ample time to have a celebration with Kaegan and Braeya. They really aren't thrilled about birthdays unless they somehow result in treats for THEM...

Kaegan woke up from his nap for a happy birthday greeting.

Braeya giving me a happy birthday nudge.

Party Time!

My friends (and Mom helped) threw me a really fun party for my birthday. I still don't have a bunch of the pictures, so there might be more to come, but here is a sampling of the evening. We had great food (pigs in blankets, meatballs, nacho cheese dip with chips, pasta salad, veggie tray, deviled eggs...YUM!) and it was topped off by some Flour Child Cupcakes made by Miss Sarah herself. Very very scrumptious, those cupcakes. Oh, and ice cream!

Here's one of my gifts - which I realize is doubling as a questionable hand gesture. Mom and Dad gave me a ring. It's the one on my middle finger, hence the reason the entire hand is out....

Listening to the singing....


The very slow extinguishing of the candles. Mom was trying to get a picture from across the room and was having camera troubles, so I was trying to blow out the candles slowly - but there were only two!! Dad must have gotten bored waiting - I see him in the background there no longer paying rapt attention.

Birthday Party Gifts

My friends did a great job with my birthday - perfectly suited gifts! By the time we got to this part of the evening, I had been smiling for so many pictures that I couldn't see anything but green dots anymore. It was kind of funny.

This is not the gift I'm displaying (it was a lovely journal that I will fill up in no time) but the BOX! My friend Laura is a stamper girl like me, and she makes the coolest matching cards/wrapping/gift things. She had decorated the box to match her card. I was impressed.


My friend Amber tracked down a princess S'more ornament! I was so excited. My entire kitchen is decorated in S'more ornaments at Christmas, and I'm always on the lookout for new ones. I had never seen the princess one before, and I was so excited that she found one!


Sarah not only made the cupcakes, but she also gave me this coffee mug that says "Everyone's Entitled to My Opinion." LOVE IT.

And this was one of Mom and Dad's contributions to the evening. A candy bar card! In case you can't read it, it says:
Is turning 30 getting you down?
Are you all Butterfinger?
Is your Whatchamacallit no longer working? (Excuse me???)
Are you getting Chunky? (Well after all the cake, yes)
Do you hear Chuckles and Snickers when your bones Crunch?
Ignore those Smarties.
If it had been Payday, maybe we could have given you 100 Grand.
Instead just Take 5 and have Mounds of fun.
Hugs and Kisses (30 of each)
Mom and Dad.

Birthday Roses

I talked about these earlier, but here's the proof! I had mentioned in a long ago blog post that I would love birthday roses. And Christina took copious notes...and she did NOT disappoint me!

When I arrived home from my birthday party with a carload of balloons, presents, and leftover food, I discovered a box on my front porch. I was so excited to find that it was from a flower place.

I recreated my actual reaction to finding the box:
And here I am with my BEAUTIFUL roses. They're still awfully pretty over a week later. I have never gotten so many gorgeous roses at one time. THANK YOU, CHRISTINA!!!!

The colors were just amazing - especially the orangish ones.


So so pretty!!! Thanks for thinking of me, Christina!!!

The Office Party, Phase One

Most of the pictures taken at the office the day of my birthday celebration with them....are on the secretary's camera. So more to come on this one! :)

But here is one side of my decorated office. I was SO EXCITED to come in and find that a couple of the girls had decked out my office with streamers.

Rachel, our student worker, loves to leave me sticky notes that totally brighten my day. She usually hides them in my office while I'm at lunch or in a meeting. But she'd left me a whole group of happy birthday stickies. :D


A couple of the office girls gave me gifts, and I had to wear the happy birthday tiara while I unwrapped them. Notice how I fought that. (eyeroll.)

When Idol Doesn't Matter...

Yes, I'm excited about the Idol results. Yes, things turned out as they should have.

But they don't always.

I heard this news this morning from my friend Marie. She'd heard it on the radio. Steven Curtis Chapman's little girl was killed when she was hit by a car in their driveway. One of SCC's sons was driving the car. That story contains fifty kinds of pain and grief that I can't even begin to grasp. It absolutely breaks my heart.

Though I didn't blog about it at the time, last week I read this article about Dottie Rambo's death. If you don't follow southern gospel music, you probably haven't heard of her, but she was quite a song writer. I think something like 2500 songs? That's significant. She wrote some of the greats like We Shall Behold Him and He Looked Beyond My Fault and Saw My Need. I knew she was over seventy, and I knew that several years ago she'd had health problems, so when I heard the news, my first thought was "Wow, I didn't realize she'd been sick." She wasn't. She was riding in her tour bus to a Mother's Day morning singing engagement in Texas, when high winds caught the bus and it crashed.

So for as excited as I still am for David Cook and his win...I'm reminded that there's much more to life than Idol results.

I'll Admit It...I Cried

I'd been trying to call my parents all evening and couldn't get them. Anytime I can't find them for more than an hour, I panic...they're not young anymore, you know. They could be in a ditch somewhere and I wouldn't know it! So when Mom finally got home to the cell phone she FORGOT to take with her, she found me crying. She wanted to know if I'd been worried...since I was crying. I said, "Well, yes, but I'm crying because he won!" She LAUGHED at me!

I will admit that I was shocked out of my ever lovin' head that David Cook won...and the margin was bigger than I thought it would be. I am SO EXCITED for him. Obviously I don't need to say how much I like him and how great I think he'll be....because I've already said all that.

YOU GO, DAVID COOK. You enjoy that win. You WELL deserve it. And while you're at it, enjoy the Simon apology. In fact, I hope you recorded it and watch it often. :)

Meanwhile, Sarah and I will continue to sing "You are my brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrotherrrrrrrrrr.....best friend forrrrrrrrevvvvvvvvvvvvvvverrrrrrrrrrr."

I'd Like to Disagree with the Judges...

Well the last night of Idol is here (stop cheering, you non-watchers). I'm recognizing in myself the same symptoms I had the finale of season 2, when it was Clay vs. Ruben. I said I didn't care who won, but I lied. In the finale I learned I was a die-hard Clay fan. I was not happy with the results. The only other season I came in disappointed with the winner was Fantasia's season, but I knew going into...the auditions...that I wasn't a Fantasia fan.

So here I've been all season saying yay to both Davids, but I am very aware this evening that I am QUITE for David Cook. I knew I was more a fan of his than I was of David Archuleta...I just didn't realize how fiercely.

I appreciate that they are both nice boys. At least they're going into this evening acting (if not genuinely) kind toward one another.

Round one - here's a shocker. I KNEW BOTH SONGS!!! THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE!!!! I loved David Cook's song. It's in Runaway Bride and that's one of my favorite movies. And he could sing it to me every day of the week and that would be just fine. And as for David Archuleta...well, unfortunately for him, Clay sang the daylights out of that one in the finale, so no one could ever do it as well in my mind. I thought he did a good job with it...but he wasn't Clay. I was sad to see round one going to Archuleta.

Round two - I'm slow to warm up to new songs. I like to be able to sing along (at the very least, in my head) right away, but I loved the one David Cook sang. Very catchy. Simon, it was too a winning moment!! As for David A - well I thought he did as well as David Cook, but I call this round a tie. Sarah, I agree with you - VERY VERY TIRED of the 'you could sing the phone book' comments. I mean I say that too, but they say it about him EVERY WEEK. Come on, people! At least have him sing a dictionary or something.

Round three - Well, I will say that I did agree with Simon that it might have been the wrong song for David Cook to sing on his way out...just because it wasn't some huge, hyped thing. BUT - I more agreed with David himself, who said the competition was about a progression and he wanted to do something new. I think what he did was brave and mature and showed his completion as an artist. Hence the reason I'm voting for him - and I'm actually getting through!!! This is so new for me! The last time I tried to vote was in Clay's season and I never could get through. David Archuleta - Sarah, was this the song he'd done before? See I don't even remember it. Ehh it was okay - I didn't think it was any more (or less) spectacular than David Cook's. I think he was a little over-praised for it.

Here's my bottom line, which I've said for a few weeks now, but I think tonight proved it. They're both amazing vocalists. No question about that. But if I were going to go hear one of them in concert, I'd go hear David Cook. He's more well-rounded. He can carry the in-between songs part. And he should win. But if he doesn't win...then I still think he'll do an amazing job. He'll be the Clay or Daughtry of his season - the one who comes back to do a great job anyway.

Having said all this, I must go. I have more voting to do.

Bits for Sunday, May 18

Now that I’m thirty, I feel this additional responsibility to be an adult. Probably feeling that about nine years too late, but better late than never, right? But things that I once did (or didn’t do) without much thought now make me stop and ponder.

I’m aspiring to be nice(r) in the Wal-Mart. And by that, I mean I’m trying not to stand in checkout and announce loudly on my cell phone “I THINK I’M GOING TO TURN FORTY BEFORE I PAY FOR THESE GROCERIES.” I’m giving valiant effort to attacking chores that need to be done whether or not I enjoy doing them. Like planting flowers, for instance…and even more than that…reading the tags to see the appropriate amount of necessary sunlight before I bake the “prefers shade” in a full dose of sunlight and then get mad over my lack of green thumb. I’m trying to be assertive – which for me was as simple as actually reporting to the video store that the DVD I rented didn’t work in my player. The twenty-something Bekah would have just dropped it off in the slot and probably rented it again in three months without remembering that it didn’t work. (In fact, I think it really did happen that way.)

And another thing I’m trying to do is to learn why people are the way they are…or at least learn how to talk to them while they’re being “that way.” And in an effort to do this, I’m reading a book every month on some type of relationship. This month I’m reading about marriage…but from a completely hysterical standpoint. The book is written by a “typical guy” whose writing mission is to explain to women why guys are such guys. I want to share with you this excerpt that CRACKED me up.

The author, Chris Fabry, is attempting a conversation with his wife…trying so hard to really connect with her:

“Then she says something that strikes a note with me, that jogs something in my memory. She’s talking about the church service and the touching moment when a teenager opened up and shared deep feelings for his parents and how it affected her. That story reminded me that many young people have difficulty with acne, which caused me to think of a guy I knew in high school, who’s now an accountant and making at least twice what I’m making, which made me mad and also caused me to think that it’s time to send in my quarterly taxes.

“I’m just about to say, ‘Hey, you know what? I need to send in those quarterly taxes,’ and I’ve just opened my mouth, and she’s looking at me with eyes brimming with tears, still thinking about that touching relational moment. My mouth is agape, so I need to say something or she’ll think I haven’t been concentrating on what she’s just said. So I sigh and shake my head and say ‘God is good, isn’t he?’

“I ask myself, Why am I so afraid to be honest and just tell her that her words made me think of something totally off the subject, and I really don’t know what she needs me to say at a moment like that, and most of the time I don’t know what she’s talking about or how I’m feeling about any subject? Why am I so scared to tell her that she lost me three paragraphs ago when she started talking about her relationship with a friend and the pain she’s feeling? Maybe she’ll think I don’t love her if I tell her this.

“I do love my wife. But I also love caramel corn and baseball, and I get an exhilaration from them that I don’t get from a relationship. At least not yet. Caramel corn doesn’t care if I helped out in the kitchen yesterday. It simply waits for me in its airtight tub. Crisp and cool. Ever faithful. I love you, caramel corn. You light up my life. You give me hope. To carry on. I have no trouble admitting that I love caramel corn or old songs by Debbie Boone.” (The H.I.M. Book pp. 49-50)

Hopefully you got the same chuckle from this that I did. And from what I’ve read in his book, I think I’m a lot like his wife, so I’ll probably end up in this very conversation someday. But I will be the first to admit that sometimes my brain takes off like his does. Like the time I read an email while on the phone and I ended up so engrossed in what I’d (mis)said in the email that I completely missed what the person on the phone was pouring out to me. It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I’m sure she was a dear lady. It’s just that I’m so easily distracted.

And just like I wanted that phone lady to give me grace…so I should extend the same grace to the other shoppers at the Wal-Mart. I should learn to find the humor in the waiting because let’s face it: until Meijer shows up in town, waiting is all we’re gonna do.

The other night I tried it. I was (impatiently) pushing my cart behind an old lady in a scooter. She was driving about ten miles UNDER the limit and I could not get around her because of oncoming cart traffic. We reached the end of the aisle and she found herself head to head with a woman coming out of the aisle with her cart. They both started to go, then they both stopped. Then they started, then they stopped. Finally the cart lady waved the scooter lady ahead, and just as she started to go, her children (who were catching up from somewhere behind me) yelled “MOM! WAIT!” More lurching of the scooter. I finally laughed. I wanted to be mad, but this poor lady…was it stop? Was it go? It was probably her first day to drive a scooter. In the end we both waited in checkout for close to a half hour, so what did it matter?

So this is my short term goal…try to see things from the other perspective. Try to realize that we don’t all live in the same brain…we don’t all process things the same…and life is just that much better if you laugh it off. And a snack of caramel corn couldn’t hurt.

The Week (okay 1/8th of it) in Pictures

Last week at this time I was exiting the dolphin show at the zoo. Today I just finished breakfast (YES, I am aware it is lunch time) and I haven't even brushed my hair. Oh well. I needed a lazy day.

This is a picture of Sarah and me at the zoo for her birthday party. Notice the slight v-neck and cap sleeves on my shirt...makes for a LOVELY sunburn. Thankfully it has faded. Sarah is the maker of Flour Child Cupcakes, and she did an AMAZING job on the cupcakes for my birthday. But this day was HER day - no working, no cupcakes!!

She is a much braver soul than I. This must be the "opposites" part of why we can be friends. Sarah is petting sharks. She invited me to join her. I offered to just stand back and take pictures.


"OH LOOK AT HER CUTE LITTLE BONNET!!" Notice I did NOT capture the parade of Amish to the left.

And here is one from my "actual time of birth" party. I would post the others, but I think you get the idea. Truly not my most attractive time of day.

Thirty

That word looks so strange. I'm thirty. It's time to jump up one box on surveys...I'm no longer part of the 20-29 crowd. Thankfully I'm not much of a survey participant, so I won't be reminded often.

Well here's a synopsis of celebration in Bekahland. I stayed up last night until the time of my birth and had a mini-party. Opened the present my sister sent me, had a chocolate chip cookie with 3 candles in it (30 wouldn't fit) and had some sparkling grape juice. And of course - took pictures.

I slept in and woke up shortly before our student worker texted me my first birthday greeting. When I responded and she knew I was awake, I received a phone call from all the girls in my office (the boys weren't invited, I guess) singing to me on speakerphone. Then I watched some lady on TLC do a very poor job of a water birth. (I'm not being judgmental - they took her out of the water because of the quality of birthing performance.)

I mostly lounged today - caught up on all kinds of shows I never get to see. Matlock, Ellen, Dharma and Greg, Little House, A Baby Story. I went to Wal Mart to develop some pictures only to find out the machine was going through "routine maintenance." (In the middle of a Wednesday???) But I'm 30 now, so I smiled (kind but insincere...but hey, it's a step!) and said "That's okay, I'll just come back to pick them up another time!" For this I went out in the rain? I went to Tree of Life for my free birthday drink...which they no longer do. So I paid for my birthday drink and came home to drink it.

And then it was time to get ready for the party. I pulled out the new dress and ironed it. 30 year olds should iron dresses. I donned the festive new jewelry my sister gave me, redid the hair and makeup and headed for the party. It was so much FUN!! Such a Bekah party. They had the guests make scrapbook pages and one of my gifts was a scrapbook (EEEEEEEEE!!!!). I got so many fun presents, and I'll have pictures.

I was sitting in a chair talking when Liam (he was referenced in Sunday's "Bits" post) came flying through the room, arms outstretched and said, "MOMMY!!!!!" I said, "I am not your Mommy, but I'll take a hug anyway!"

The party was fun, the food was super, the Idol results were FABULOUS, although I'll sorely miss Syesha, and I came home to a BOX on my porch. I love that. I stopped the car, grabbed the box and it said FLOWERS on it. I was so excited! I've always thought that to have flowers delivered in a box to your porch means you've arrived. I ripped into the box and found the most GORGEOUS roses from Christina. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU again, Christina! I took pictures and I'll post them - you know - whenever Wal Mart is done maintaining their machines.

So the day is crowned a success. Thank you to everyone for well wishes, emails, cards, texts, gifts, flowers, balloons, parties, calls, singing, the whole nine yards.

Now I'm going to go clean up cat yammy. I love being 30.

Twenty Nine and Other Stories

Well I'm right at two hours before the big day........I took today off work to bring closure to my decade. I realize some of you will roll your eyes at that, but this is the sort of person I am. I like definite endings and beginnings, so I took today to celebrate the end of what has turned out to be a fantastic decade. I did some journaling about it today - who knew the whole thing had been so much fun?

Last year my birthday was a hurried celebration prior to my last minute flight to Kansas after the tornado. Mom, Dad, and Marie took me to Ivanhoes where I had my first for real strawberry shortcake.

And this was during the work celebration. My hair sure has gotten long in the last year. I hadn't realized how much until I started looking at these pictures!


Well let's see - what else do I have for you? Oh! Happy "I Just Called to Say I Love You" day.
And the zoo story. I had to get permission from Sarah to tell this one, since I'm telling it on her. Sarah (of the fabulous Flour Child Cupcakes) had a birthday this past Saturday and she wanted her party to be at the zoo. So a few carloads of people drove down to the zoo and we wandered around looking at animals and watching the little kids get all excited about everything. One of the babies in our group just turned a year old not long ago. Baby Meredith. She is a pretty stylin' kid - often sporting sunglasses and little bonnets in the great outdoors. We just left one of the first exhibits when Sarah spotted baby Meredith in her cute little hat just grinning over her Dad's shoulder. Sarah said (rather loudly) "OH!!!!!! Look at her cute little bonnet!!!!!!!" Right then, about two dozen Amish people walked by us. Sarah and I dissolved into some pretty heavy giggles. WOOPS! Poor timing but very funny.
And last but not least...IDOL!!!! I so forgot that this was Tuesday - days off work do that to me. I forgot to record it, so I had to rush home in time to watch. Here are my thoughts on the fab final three:
David Archuleta - Round One: I actually thought this was one of his best ever performances. I thought his voice sounded much stronger than normal and I thought he seemed confident and NOT awkward. Round Two: I didn't love it. It seemed hokey - Simon called it awkward and I would agree with that. He was back to the David who is good but doesn't seem quite mature enough to handle tour life. Round Three: I thought he did a very nice job on that one. I didn't think the song choice was as bad as Simon said. I guess maybe I like David better when he's not moving.
Syesha - Round One: I thought she was good, but I wasn't blown away by the song. Maybe if I'd known the song?? Round Two: This was actually my favorite one for her tonight. Her dress was about six inches too short (sorry Phats, I'm sure you loved it) and it was kind of a seductive performance, but I thought she sang well. I was very surprised the judges tore it down as much as they did. Round Three: I thought it was pretty good! I thought overall the judges were too critical of her and I think she could be in trouble because of it.
David Cook - Round One - He did an awesome job, I thought, and I continue to just absolutely love him. Round Two - That was a SHORT song! I agreed with Paula that I was just getting into it about the time it was over. I thought he did a nice job on it though. Round Three - I screamed. SO SO SO GOOD. I also think he should wear that outfit from now on. David for the win, PLEASE!!!!!!!

Twenty Eight and Goofy's Birthday

I've been busy writing and totally forgot to post!! AAAHHH!!!

Happy birthday to the lovable Disney character Goofy. Today is his big day. I thought it was kind of appropriate that it's so close to mine. :)

Twenty eight was a fun year because it was one of the few years when my birthday actually fell on Mother's Day like it did that very first year. My "nephew" Liam was dedicated on this day, and I had lunch and a little partylet at my parents' house.

Here I am with the parents!

Bits...and Turning 27...and Eating a Lot

I thought I'd kind of combine everything into one post today.

First - in addition to the obvious holiday - happy Eat What You Want day. And boy don't you know that I did!! I especially enjoyed Paula Deen's Gooey Chocolate cake. Paula didn't actually make it for me, you understand. But I made it with her recipe. That Paula. She's good.

Wow...we're to birthday 27 already!! Only two to go!! EEEE.

I remember this birthday. My friends John and Cheryl took me out to Cracker Barrel for breakfast, and that was so yummy. Pretty sure Mom and Dad took me out for ice cream after that. I went to their house where I received this lovely cake...

...and these lovely gifts. A recipe box I picked out myself...a Bath sign I picked out myself...and my one surprise, the famous TP holder. (Remember that discussion, Chris?) Unfortunately, I found out about the TP holder accidentally. A while before my birthday, I had ridden in the van with Mom and Dad going who knows where, and Mom had made this purchase and forgotten to take it out of the vehicle. Dad turned a corner, it fell over, I looked behind the seat to see what it was...woops!

After our little celebration, Mom took me to a show home open house. How very HGTV. It was so much fun!!

And then (Christina, do you remember this?) I went over to Andrew's parents' house to meet Emily for the very first time in her whole life. That was so much fun too.

So that's the catch-up on birthdays, and here's the thoughts for the week:

Mother’s Day.

The holiday that always pushes me into wondering what to get for my Mom to somehow thank her for everything she does the other 364 days of the year. Most of the things I end up choosing don’t seem to be quite enough (from my perspective). I have the added responsibility of making up for causing her to go into labor on this day thirty years ago. I always feel a little bit guilty about that.

So today I gave her a photo collage of her daughters and granddaughter, and my extra added gift (which I don’t know if she noticed or not) was the absence of photos of her grand-animals. I baked a cake which she seemed to like – good thing I happened to remember that I’d accidentally left out that last stick of butter before I baked it. Nothing says “Happy Mother’s Day” quite like an almost completed chocolate cake.

Not being a mother myself (since many people share my mother’s persuasion that cats are not people too…and while I disagree, I will concur that they require a bit less maintenance), it’s quite impossible for me to understand how hard of a job it is it to be a mom. I’ve read about it in greeting cards and magazine articles. But I don’t know it firsthand.

While I sat thinking about this today, I remembered a magazine clipping I glued inside a little scrapbook I made. I don’t even know what the page was advertising (I cut that part out) but the quote says, “And the journey begins…You’re a future daughter-in-law…a keeper of new family recipes…a soul mate…the family’s favorite restaurant…a late meal maestro…it begins.”

And that’s what made me think about all those thankless jobs that my Mom has done…and she went completely unthanked for them. (I suppose that is what classifies them as thankless, huh?) She and every other mother in the world.

Wrapping up little gifts for me to dive into every few hours during a halfway-across-the-country vacation car ride…formulating a viable plan for a science fair project with only two days to spare after I changed my mind at the last minute about wanting to participate…checking my math problems for hours every week so that I wouldn’t fail the seventh grade…choosing to play with paper dolls and board games rather than kicking back with a book…taking the early years off work to stay at home and walk me through the McGuffey readers so I could have a head start on the world of reading…driving forty miles a night every week to take me to a babysitting job in the next town over because I didn’t yet have my license…thinking up a Halloween costume every year – including the year I sported a pink cast on the holiday…stopping for chocolate cokes at the Comet Cone a couple of times week just to celebrate the completion of another school day…postponing retirement to help pay my college tuition…cooking a real dinner every night and sitting down together as a family to eat.

These and a thousand more are the things that mothers do because they are Mom. The things they do knowing no one will notice at the moment and maybe no one will notice ever, but they do them anyway.

I’ve often wondered how mothers do it. I am an aunt for real and an “aunt” to many more and I love each of those kiddos to pieces, but at the end of the day, I go back to my own home and collapse and my responsibilities are done. There’s no getting up in the night to change a diaper or setting the alarm an hour earlier to make breakfast and construct matching pigtails and pack lunches…there’s just me, two cats, a remote control, and some peace and quiet.

I suppose, as someone I know once said, “it comes with the placenta.” The extra energy to do all those things and more just comes from somewhere and when it stops showing up, you just fake it until it reappears. Because stopping, I’ve learned, isn’t an option mothers have.

And I guess one of the refueling stations comes from the joy that being a mother can also bring. Again, I know…no kids, so I don’t know what I’m talking about. But today before I left church, I decided I needed a little bit of love, and whenever I need that, I head straight for Liam. He’s the lone nephew in the herd of nieces I’ve acquired by blood and friendship. Whether this is a two-year-old’s phase or whether it’s Liam for life, I don’t know, but he’s all about a big hug, a high five and a nose-smashing kiss. So I wandered around the church to find him, and he was having a great time on the little plastic rocking horse in the nursery. I stood at the door until he looked up and when he did, I just pointed at him and whispered, “You. I was looking for you.” He lit up and left that rocking horse far behind. He ran over, gave me a hug, a high five, and big kiss. And then he just stayed there for about ten minutes, hanging on and humming (quite on key, I might add) Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I said, “Are you singing Twinkle Twinkle?” to which he replied, “Tinkle Tinkle Little Star…” I loved that moment, and even though I’m not his mom, that was my “mom” moment for the day.

And I can see how those moments replenish the energy that “MOM! WHERE ARE MY SOCKS” can deplete. And those moments are probably more a gift than any photo collage with or without grand-animals could ever be.

So Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thank you for all those things and all the things my thirty-year-old brain has forgotten.

And I’m still sorry about the labor part.

Twenty Six and Other Adventures

Today was a very fun day in Bekahland! I went to the zoo with friends to celebrate Sarah's birthday. (Happy birthday again, Sarah!) I haven't been to the zoo since junior high, probably, and it was very fun. It was also apparently slightly more sun-infested than I realized. I'm sporting an interesting (yet ridiculous) v-shaped burn...and a cap sleeve tan on my arms. GREAT. How festive.

Today is "Clean Up Your Room Day" - a day that couldn't make me happier. I realize this may be hard for some of you to believe, but I used to have the MESSIEST room in the world. One time I actually ran down the hall to escape the toppling of a plastic tower, because I placed ONE too many things on it. My parents looked surprised to see me dashing into the living room and even MORE surprised to hear the crash that followed. Mom frequently greeted me on a Saturday with an announcement of "It's time for an Arthur on your room." Arthur the Ant-Eater was one of my books, and Arthur had a messy room. One of the chapters of his story talked about how his mother sequestered him in his room all day until he cleaned it. One day I decided that I was tired of Arthur days, so I just cleaned it up once and for all and I've been pretty tidy ever since.

Here's a glimpse into turning 26. The gray hair had gotten the best of me and I began to go red. Adulthood had gotten the best of me and I hand-picked this festive tart burner for my home. (Still have it, still love it!)

Mom found this at the Rescue Mission - a Redbook issue from the month and year of my birth. Next to this picture I wrote "I'm an official antique."

The Big 2-5

I was SO excited to turn 25. In my mind, it was the last cause for rejoicing before everything fell apart on the road to 30. In addition, car insurance goes down when you hit 25, and I'm all about saving money.

My office was so kind to throw me a party - and they surprised me with a whole Princess theme! (That was my college nickname.)

I had to wear the tiara all day - and I forgot I had it on when I went down to the bathroom - got some strange looks on the way.

They made me kiss a frog...which didn't really help the situation a whole lot, but I did it anyway.


Today has been GREAT. I had the afternoon off work and was able to run errands and bake cookies and right now I"m watching Little House. A great episode...the one where Laura stuffs apples down her dress to try to impress a boy. I haven't seen this one forever.
And in other news...happy "Tear the Tags off the Mattress Day." No idea why that needs a day in and of itself, but there you go. :)

Twenty Four and No Sock Day

I believe we have entered the years of "guess the hair color and style." I threw a party for myself when I turned 24 - my first birthday party in my own place. I was a bad scrapper girl and didn't take pictures of all the guests. :(

Kaegan was there, though! :)
Today is "No Sock Day" and despite the rain and chilly weather here, I celebrated by braving a day of sandals at work. :) It all worked out as long as I stayed inside, but the trips to and from the car were a little icky.

Twenty Three, Idol, and Make A Book Day

Ahhhh 23. The year I tried so hard to look 33. I think I may have succeeded.

And now that I approach 33 (okay maybe in a few years...) I try so hard to look 23. Why is life always backwards like this???

Twenty three. The year of the blue wedding, the failed hair-highlighting attempts, the adoption of little Kaegan James, and from the looks of the picture, also the year our office was temporarily displaced to the gym while our building underwent a remodel.

Well...another one bites the dust on Idol. Can't say I'm surprised. I would say the choice was the right one.

And Happy Make A Book Day. I've done that a couple of times in my life and thoroughly enjoyed it. I realize this makes some of you question my sanity, but that's okay.

And for now...I think I need a little David Phelps fix, so I think I'll finish my workout to a rousing round of These Are They or whatever is in the DVD player. (If that's what it is...I'm sure it will be the first time THAT has ever been used for a workout.)