The thing I love about babies and little kids is that the concept of how things "should" be is foreign to them (example: a fork is only used for eating, the rings must go from biggest to smallest stacked in order). I appreciate the openminded creativity I see, and it's a lesson to me every day that should is a word to be used carefully and sparingly.

I think Carrie Bradshaw said it best,

"Are we should-ing all over ourselves?"

Favorite Things

When I have time “off” I like to: Surf all TV stations and watch marathons of Project Runway, House Hunters, NCIS, Ghost Hunters, The Office, Friends…and the list goes on. I also like to write in my blog and write cryptic status updates on Facebook. During most of this time I am thinking about how I have to do homework, scrub the shower, etc.

It’s funny how now that I’m married and a mother the definition of doing nothing has expanded to include laundry, dishes, and mopping.

Anyway, I was sitting around and watching House Hunters today and made a list of some of my current favorite things:

Slippers These slippers from Cabelas don’t look all that pretty but they are the best slippers ever. They go on sale every year at Christmastime for about $40 (instead of the regular price of $50)

reed diffuser Pretty, and smells good too!

Plaid crinkle scarf You have to have something plaid this season

Aldo boots It may just be me but how cute would these be with a brown leather jacket or long cardigan/blazer and that scarf?

sugar plum candies hand dipped chocolate

Wine New vineyard in the area with great wine

Pedicure, Massage, etc.

Bath and Body Works also used to have something in their spa collection called Body Butter which I loved, but I can’t find it on their website. And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention cherry Chapstick. It’s one thing that makes the winter months bearable.

Today I was in line at The Cookie Company to get a cookie to take to my dad for after dinner. And I have to admit I did get a cookie for myself too. They have a cookie called the E.T. which is a chocolate cookie with peanut butter chips inside and it is something I crave but rarely eat.

So while I was in line waiting to get the cookies I had to fight the urge to de-pants the kid in front of me. I don’t consider myself old—though I’m definitely not 17, and it was the same way when I was a teenager but the way these guys dress today is incredibly annoying. I hate those hats that have flat bills—and they wear them sideways, and their stupid pants are falling off. I do sound like an old lady, but it’s true. I know I’m an adult but I still get the urge to tell them how goofy they look.

And then I got to the front of the line and I don’t know if I looked surprised but it appeared as if I had a runway model selling me cookies. You should have seen her. She was young enough that she didn’t realize how stunning she was, which just made her that much more disarming. You know how there are girls who wear too much makeup and over accessorize because they know they are pretty and think that makes them even more pretty?

She wasn’t like that at all.

Minimal makeup—because she didn’t need it, and of course the requisite Cookie Company t-shirt. Anyway, someday if I have another daughter, I hope she is like that. Young people don’t realize that just being young lends them a certain amount of beauty that doesn’t need to be covered up with a bunch of extra makeup and too-trendy fashion.

I usually only get a cookie there when I have the day to myself (which I did today) because every time I happen to be around my dear husband eating one of these E.T. cookies or Reese’s Pieces I feel compelled to hold up my pointer finger and say,

“Phone home…phone home…phone home...”

Until he touches pointer fingers with me. Yes I really do this. So I guess not getting cookies when I am with him is my little effort to be less weird and also to avoid consuming 500 calories in one cookie. Two birds, one stone.

Six Months

I was at a Target trying on clothes the other day (just to see if I could fit into a size smaller—success!) and they had the most horrific mirrors I’ve ever experienced. They were perfectly aligned so that you could clearly see your butt. And all sides, which was nice. I tend to believe that God put the butt back there for a reason and the less I have to look at my own the better! Trying to not see it while trying on jeans was an exercise in futility in this particular 8 X 8 foot space. I guess it could have been worse. I could have been 35 lbs. heavier and looking at my ass in the mirror.

There are two places in the South I’ve always wanted to go—one being New Orleans and the other Savannah, Ga. I mostly want to go to these places because of books I’ve read. The only reference I have to New Orleans is:

1) Anne Rice novels, sort of envision it as sultry heat, moss draped trees, and old Victorian style houses. Is this accurate? I don’t know, but it sounds cool.

2) The travel channel food episode where they’re eating some sort of pastry.

I’m not interested in Mardi Gras. I’m not all that into flashing people, I think I’m past that particular phase in life. Who am I kidding? I never really was in that particular phase in life. Now I just want to side on a wide porch in a hammock or rocking chair, drink some wine, and do nothing.

I want to go to Savannah because of the book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Not the movie. The book. Read it.

Now that I’ve given you some inane thoughts for the day I’ll tell you what I’m really feeling. Frustrated, sad, sick to my stomach--but I think the sick to my stomach part is that I've been taking NSAIDS since the beginning of July and drinking way too much caffeine. So my stomach lining is probably doing really well right now, as you can imagine.

We had the meeting with my dad’s rehab. center today and they told us he’s not really improving, but rather has gone downhill since the last time he was there. We are going to have to send him to a nursing home October 8.

Holy crap, I feel like I’m 50. Don’t people do this when they are 50, not when they are in their 20’s? Almost $7000 a month for nursing home care is a tough pill to swallow. And I’m not even the one who is going to have to pay for it. I don’t know how to help my stepmother. This is perhaps the most powerless I have ever felt, the least equipped I have ever been in coping with something.

The one person who has been there for me since the moment I was born is suddenly mute, having a hard time comprehending things and confined to either bed or his chair. Now people are looking to me (and my stepmother and brother) to make these decisions. Asking about DNR orders (do not resuscitate), telling us to pick a nursing home.

Six months ago everything was fine. Or as fine as could be. I had a baby on the way and my dad was feeling good. There aren’t even any words to describe this particular feeling. This particular emotional place.

I want to be strong enough for this.

Black retro couch: $1

Listening to my son say "Quirl! Quirl!" (squirrel) as he points out the window: Priceless.

The couch really was $1. I ended up giving her $5 for it just because I felt like I was getting a steal. I'm getting pretty good at this bargain hunting stuff. The dear hubby won't let me keep it upstairs though because we have those brand new leather ones. How sweet and retro would my living room look if I could talk him into it?

“…I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving kindness.” Jeremiah 31:3

My child spent the day intermittently screaming like a banshee, proudly (and impudently) prancing on the sofa, stepping on the dogs and generally giving his parents a hard time. The poor kid has another molar coming in and my dear husband accidently woke him up from his afternoon nap by (loudly) removing the air conditioner from the bathroom window 20 minutes after the little guy fell asleep (which took 30 minutes lying with his mommy to even happen).

So I was (am) exhausted. Even though I did get to sleep in until 9 this morning. It was one of those days when I was just desperately watching the clock and counting the minutes until bedtime. He went to bed at exactly 7:13 p.m. which is a little early for him, but I rationalize that he missed most of his afternoon nap, so it’s okay.

I gave him his nightly bath, brushed his (8—almost 9) teeth, and zipped him into his footie pajamas. Then I lied down with him on the bed again and held him tightly, my arms fully encircling his little body and his head snuggled in the nook of my neck.

As I prayed with him and quietly held him in the twilight of the bedroom I thought
No matter how big you get, you will always be mine.
And immediately thereafter the verse from Jeremiah came to my mind.

It’s amazing how much broader the love of God is than a mother’s love. That moment left me with tears rolling as I contemplated what that type of love, A Father’s love, has done in my life. My son slowly drifted off to sleep, his breathing becoming deep and regular, and I prayed that someday with gentle guidance from those who love him he too will be drawn into God’s loving kindness.

OK!

Dear Wal-Mart Checker,
I understand that it is 5:00 p.m. on a Friday evening and you are busy. I get that, I do. I also understand that you are probably tired. You are probably working two jobs or something like that. But you’re old enough that I know you don’t have a 17 month old at home so I don’t feel that sorry for you. But maybe your grandkid is staying with you. I don’t know.

I really don’t think you need to take 10 minutes to check my groceries. Especially since I’ve been waiting in line for 8 minutes since the lady before me also had a full cart. This ain’t my first rodeo, lady. I’ve spent a hundred dollars on groceries before and it took 3 minutes to finish at the checkout.

I can’t say that I blame you necessarily, for this passive aggressive behavior. Because if I had to stand there and listen to that godforsaken beeping all day I might try to find a way to stick it to the 27 year old blonde smiling in the checkout lane too. To be honest, it’s not all that bad standing here. It’s one of my only opportunities all day to do something as mindless as read OK! magazine.

If I were you I’d probably want me to buy 2 things and then hurry to my Honda minivan in the parking lot and go to my kid’s soccer game. Sadly, although this may be the impression I give you, I really drive a Nissan Sentra with a leaking oil pan and a bumper sticker my husband slapped on that is pretty right-wing. I’m enough on the conservative side that I can't help but flinch at pro-choice bumper stickers. However, I’m not so conservative that I say, “F--- you!” (quietly and directed at a bumper sticker) when I see one that says Nebraskans for Peace. I won’t name names but I know someone who does that.

It amuses me.

In any case, lady at the checkout line, I hope you have a good night. As for me, I’m starving and heading home to crack open that 4 pack of mini bottles of Sutter Home Cabernet I just bought (classy, huh?). But what did you expect from a girl in lounge pants, tennis shoes, and a ponytail?