Out of the mouths of babes

I spent the morning looking for a baptismal gift for my cousin (who is 10 and getting baptized tomorrow--we are the Godparents). While I was perusing the children's Bible section, I let Holden go play with one of those wire and wood toys that doctor's offices and random stores have sitting around to keep kids busy. When I was ready to leave, I picked him up and he threw a fit (which I should have seen coming).

Don't judge me. Instead of telling him no, paying and walking out with a screaming child as I should have done--I thought to myself...stickers! The kid loves stickers, so I used that to distract him. We found some Jesus stickers and bought them. I felt okay about it since I was going to start using stickers for potty training anyway.

As we left the store, I peeled off a Jesus sticker, handed it to him, and strapped him into his car seat on our way to HyVee to buy a cake frosted with a blue buttercream cross.

We got a few blocks away and I started listening to Holden, who carries his own "cell phone" in his car seat and has long phone conversations that usually consist of "Heyyyo?" and "Bye!". I glanced in the rearview mirror and my dear child had put the Jesus sticker on the earpiece of the phone and was holding it to his ear.

"What are you doing, Holden?" I asked.

Matter-of-factly he said,

"Talking (to) Jesus."

I'll Be Seeing You

My 80 year old grandmother (my dad's mom) had 8 siblings. For as long as I can remember, during the last full weekend in July, I have attended the family reunion. It's been held at different locations throughout the years...but two things I have always been able to count on

1) good food
2) my dad being there with me

Of course the food was good this year. I even won the raffle prize (a CD player). My family was wonderful as always. But I have to admit I had to force myself to go. I'm glad I went--that we enjoyed the beautiful weather, talked to family and sang to my great-uncles' piano and guitar all night long.

I'll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through.

In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The children's carousel;
The chestnut trees;
The wishin' well.

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day;
In every thing that's light and gay.
I'll always think of you that way.

I'll find you
In the morning sun
And when the night is new.
I'll be looking at the moon,
But I'll be seeing you.

I got home from my time away from home and felt relieved, my home is as it should be--a sanctuary for my little family and me.

A soft place to land.

I think I say it all the time, but it can't hurt to say it again...I didn't know it was possible to feel so deeply. To have a sense of belonging so complete.

A place where joy and sorrow are equally shared.

I was standing in the hall the other day while Holden was trying to carry his tricycle around me and not having much luck.

"Dooch bag." He said. I stood there with my mouth hanging open, trying not to laugh.

"What did you say honey?"

"Dooch bag!"

Tony looked at me. "Did he just say...?"

I laughed, "Say it one more time, Holden."

"Dooch bag!!"

"Oh!" Still laughing,

I scooched back. He smiled and hopped on his tricycle.

"Thank you mommy!"

My hard drive crashed so I am offline for a couple weeks...will try to post soon anyway

When you came in, the air went out.

I ate a whole bag of pretzel M & M's this week.

Have you tried them? They taste kind of like peanut M & M's only with less calories. How many less, I am not sure...but they are 180 calories per serving--which means I have been skipping eating other things (things that are good for me) to eat 600 calories worth of them this week.

When I found out they started making pretzel M & M's it is fairly safe to say I was elated. When I was younger I used to buy pretzels and 3 Musketeer's bars, take a bite of each and then wonder aloud why no one had ever made and marketed a similar product.

And now my dream has come true.

I am going to start going to the gym again this week. I am.

I have been passing the time during naptime looking up cheesy True Blood stuff on the internet, like character blogs and recaps...But I drew the line at going into the message boards. I have limits. Sort of.

I don't think I've loved a TV show this much since FRIENDS went off the air. It feels like an event to me every time it's on.

I have a confession to make. In the four years I have lived here I have never--not even once--cleaned the oven in my house.

And no, it is not a self-cleaning oven.

There I said it, although it won't surprise any of you who have been my roommates. I had to go out and buy oven cleaner yesterday because while I was gone it appears as though my dear husband was cooking something that spilled over a ridiculous amount of sauce on the bottom of the stove and filled the house with smoke two days ago as I was trying to cook dinner.

To be quite honest, I don't even know how to clean a gas oven and am mildly concerned about
a) the pilot light being on and
b) the fumes from the Easy Off affecting my child, dogs, and cat.


I have set the can out in plain view on the kitchen counter so my husband will notice it (and he doesn't read my blog). I think it may end up somewhat like the shower cleaning standoff of 2010 (which I lost by the way--and I'm pretty sure my husband didn't even notice was happening).

I'm a good wife, eh? I did clean up the dog poop in the kennel yesterday so I gave myself a big pat on the back for that.

The other battle I am currently embroiled in is The Bedtime Battle, which may also be referred to as Please, Please, Please just sleep alone my angel faced child...sleep damn it! I'm not sure it is advisable to take on toilet training this week as well, especially since my dear child has had a bad case of diarrhea for the last three days.

I'm still considering it.

Like I told the doctor when we went in for Holden's 2 year appointment: The lack of toilet training has less to do with Holden's readiness than it does to do with Mommy's lack of initiative.

My dear son is napping (alone) at the moment and I am sitting my cool, quiet bedroom (brand new a/c and heating system!), and considering taking a nap myself or reading a Sookie Stackhouse book.

It's good to be home.

Choo! Choo!

It looks like Holden was backing Nate up in a bar fight and the other guys won. (Nate: obvious injuries; Holden: fat lip from falling off a chair.)

Carson City train museum...

only caused a short temper tantrum while leaving--and then Holden fell asleep in his carseat on the way back to Nate's house. Overall totally worth the $4 we paid for the train ride and hour and a half inside the museum.

Too tired to write more. Going to watch The Next Food Network Star instead.

I am staying at my brother's house sitting alone on his huge leather sectional and watching The Grand Ole Opry--which reminds me--when I was a child staying at my grandparent's house on the weekends they used to watch The Statler Brothers every Saturday night.

And sometimes I would get to stay up and watch Nick at Nite. We didn't have cable when I was younger so to me, this was a major treat. Although now it's hard to believe that watching I dream of Jeannie was a treat. But even now when I scroll through my hundreds of channels and see that show on--I always turn it on...if only for a minute.

Okay, so I'm wondering to myself...at what age should a woman cut her hair shorter, stop wearing bikinis, and stop getting tattoos? I know the Baby boomer generation would like to believe you're never too old for these things, but my husband and I are kind of old souls and I think there should be proper rules for such things. I'm also big on manners--mostly handwritten thank-yous and such.
Which, by the way...did you know you aren't required to write thank yous for funeral gifts?
I actually still have some thank yous from my dad's funeral and some other stuff sitting on my counter I should really send. So if you are one of the overlooked thank yous...I apologize.


Okay, so what age? I tried on a two piece suit earlier this summer and decided that after two c-sections it's just not the best idea.

Too...lumpy.

All I can really say after a 7 hour flight from Omaha to Denver and a 2 hour flight from Denver to Reno...and taking care of a 2 year old for 72 hours alone (I know, how sad is it that I meltdown after only 72 hours?)...I am very tired.

I do have a theory that it is partly the altitude to blame, but I think it's mostly the two year old.

I'm feeling a little uninspired at the moment as far as blog-writing goes. I'm just enjoying seeing my older brother and sister-in-law and sitting on their shady deck in one of the best deck chairs ever, eating coconut cocadas (which I've never heard of before, but thinking of going to the store and buying enough to fill a huge box and sending it back to Nebraska) and trying to keep my kid from breaking things.

Just the last part takes up quite a bit of energy. The kid, not the cocadas.

Also, I walked into a gas station the other day--there is the possibility it may have been in a scarier area of town (after all, what is a tattoo shop if not in a run down building in a scary area of town? But don't worry, it was very clean.) and there were three guys sitting there playing slot machines.

In a gas station.

I mean really?

Who says, "Hey, I think I'm going to go get gas and play some slots."

But it was the middle of the day so I suspect they probably didn't have anywhere else to be...like at a job.

You'll grow out of it...someday

My new tattoo. It has been planned for years, just been looking for the right artist and finally found her at Apple Core Tattoo in Reno, NV.

Hibiscus meaning (these of course are different depending on the culture): Delicate beauty; short life; seize the opportunity; sunny summer; old royalty; gentle

and also...they are pretty :)

P.S. I keep spell checking the word "seize"...it doesn't look right to me but spell check says I'm right. But it is about 3 a.m. central time so maybe that explains it.

*Delayed posting* Actually written on June 30:

I have had s’mores for breakfast for the past 3 days. I have an angry, red sunburn on most of my body, save the part covered up by my boring brown one-piece bathing suit. The burn brings out my freckles and makes my bright blonde hair look even blonder against the red of my face. It’s the kind of burn you can’t even put makeup on—but it doesn’t bother me. I did the same thing two days before my wedding so I couldn’t wear makeup at my wedding.

Walking on the beach alone the third morning we were here I stopped to watch the ocean. I was looking for some great revelation or profound thought, but the rhythmic roll of the waves must have drowned it out.

My feet covered in sand and facing the blue-gray waves, I felt no change. No particular release of stress or happy feeling…and wonder what could possibly be wrong, on the beach in California. Maybe I’ve grown up in the past 5 years since the last time I was here. And in the way growing up does…it has dulled my senses a little bit.

I start thinking about my dad walking me down the beach on my wedding day, and the time I went to Universal Studios with my dad, stepmom, and stepbrother. I think about that day on the sailboat with Tony and his family, and the first Harbor cruise Tony and I went on—Valentine’s day 2004, I remember the first time my husband told me he loved me.

We drive by the Motel 6 I stayed at on I-78 the week after Tony and I got engaged in August of 2004.

We walk on the pier, on the beach, through the shops.

We sit on our patio, have caramel macchiatos at Starbucks, and fresh crablegs on the harbor. We consider buying a shirt that says I got crabs from my waitress at Crabby Joe’s. I even try a bite of oysters Rockefeller.

We watch the waves roll in and play in the surf—and both get so ridiculously burnt that we can’t even touch each other.

I’m thankful for my choice to be with my DH and my luck. I’m thankful for my son, who when I call to check on him tells me about his day in one word sentences,
“Skate.”
“Ice cream.”
“Bath.”

I can’t remember why I have a blog, as examining oneself is probably a futile pastime. I wonder about this while I’m on the beach—as thinking about things never makes me particularly happy, just makes me worry. But I think I get that from my grandma. The worry part.

You know most things about me now, but I didn’t tell you about the last miscarriage. The one in February--the one that makes me wonder if I’ll ever have another child. I think about that as I walk on the beach in the mornings while Tony is still sleeping, although there is nothing I can do about it.

I think about my dad and my brother and the blur of the last year.

I lie down on the bed next to my husband, in the quiet--thinking California is beautiful—this burn, this humidity making my hair curl, the salt, sand, the waves. Looking at my tan husband with those bright blue eyes; staying at a cottage on base and watching the Marines walk by in their desert cammis.

I like the order of this place, being on base.

But driving down the freeway the other day I turned to Tony and said,

“I remember now what I loved so much about this place. It was you.”