lovable

LIR RESPATI BUMIDAYA

iday, August 29, 2008

Love Requires a Sense of Humor

"When is our anniversary, Christy?"
"I can't believe you've forgotten, oh ye of the everlasting memory! It's been almost ten years and you've forgotten! August 29th, 1998!"
"Oh, I didn't forget. But you might want to look at the calendar."
"I don't have to look at the calendar. I wrote it on there months ago. Tenth anniversary in big letters on the 29th. Maybe you need to look at the calendar."
"Ha! Hahahahaha! I am looking at the calendar, Christy."
I stomped into the kitchen and ripped the calendar off the fridge. I jabbed my finger at a square and said, "See! Tenth anniversary!" Nick grinned from ear to ear as he pointed to the date again. I'd written it on the 28th.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

10 things I've learned about marriage in the last 10 years

Tomorrow is Nick's and my tenth anniversary. Tomorrow is also my mother's back surgery. Life is messy like that. The joy gets mixed up with worry.
10 Things about I've Learned About Marriage

1. Marriages are unique. There is no one right way to approach marriage. So it's ok to ignore supposedly universal advice if it doesn't fit my marriage - like "Don't go to bed angry." I go to bed angry all the time. I wake up angry, but rested. Then I can have a discussion instead of a fight.
2. I can't give everything I've got to work, the kids, church, my friends, and then serve Nick whatever is left over at the end of the day. He's my husband. He deserves better than scraps of me.
3. If I'm not getting what I need, I have to tell Nick. I have to be specific. I can't say that I need time with him. I have to say I need 15 minutes every day for him to listen to me. Then he will understand and give me what I need or we'll fight about it and find a compromise.
4. When I start to hide little, unimportant things from Nick, we are heading toward rocky territory. That's the time to pull out the stops and figure out what is really wrong and fix it.
5. Some things do not stay fixed. This is the nature of the world. Mountains crumble, canyons deepen, rivers change course, compromises erode. Take a deep breath and fix it again.
6. Marriage is not a competition so don't keep score.
7. Sex is important, and that's ok.
8. Always make sure that what I'm hearing is what Nick is saying and vice versa. There is nothing wrong with being a parrot, especially when furious. Sometimes saying "I am hearing you say blah blah blah" is the quickest way to uncover a miscommunication.
9. Nick will never forget the Juice Newton bet, the combo gas station and burger king bet, or any other bet that we've ever had when I've been wrong (which is about 90% of them). So I don't make bets unless I'm prepared to be teased about them for the next 30 or 40 years.
10. Marriage isn't a choice that I made 10 years ago. It's a series of choices that I have made over the past 10 years and that I will continue to make for the rest of our time together. It's a constant process of choosing Nick over the alternatives. And sometimes, I make the wrong choice. Sometimes he does too. But I think that if we each choose each other more often than not, we'll make it.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Be careful what you wish for...

because that annoying trickle in your nose might just turn into the plague and land you on your back for a day or so. Blech.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Thursday 13: 13 Small Rants

It's been a long week.

 

1. People who don't know the rules for a four-way stop should not be driving through four-way stops.  As a matter of fact, perhaps the driving portion of the driving test should include a four-way stop just to insure that at least someone on the road besides me knows what to do.  Sitting at the stop sign and waving everyone through is not the right thing to do.  Powering through the intersection without stopping is also not the right thing to do, even if you do honk to warn everyone.
2. Boys go to school and they require a pencil bag.  Pencil bags are not the sole domain of girls.  Perhaps you could reduce the inventory of some of the hearts, unicorns, and rainbows and have more than one boyish or neutral bag.  And for the record, not all boys like camoflauge.  Even if all boys do like camoflauge, not all mothers like camoflauge.  So, you know, maybe just a plain blue bag would be useful?
3. I understand that it is easier on teachers if all children have identical supplies.  I'm behind the teachers on that.  I'll buy the yellow pencils and tell my kid to stop whining about it.  But next time, maybe you could just take your list to a few common stores to make sure that the very specific items you request are readily available?  I'm quite unhappy about stopping at three different stores to find large pink erasers.  Surely the ubiquitous white ones would have served just as well.
4. Yes, your daughter is very cute and smart.  That's no excuse for being a pushy little queen bee.  You need to teach her how to play with others instead of laughing it off.  She's going to make social mistakes - she's three.  But you are at least 33 and you should know when to step in and teach her some skills.
5. Please stop emailing me to come to your desk unless you are truly available.  I hate trotting across the office just to have you ask me to come back later.  If necessary, we can schedule a meeting for a time when you are free.
6. Stop airing scary commercials during family programs!  If a movie is rated R, then there is really no need to advertise it during a G rated television program.  You'll get more bang for your buck if you save those advertising dollars for the later evening, and I won't have to dive for the remote to pause the TV for nightmare prevention. 
7. While we're talking about nightmares, how about you kids just stop having them, please?  I know that your genes are working against you here since both your dad and I have had our issues with bad dreams, but seriously?  Could you please just grow out of it?  I'm really tired.
8. I don't know what is up with you, nose, but I've had enough.  Either run or don't run, but stop this sort of half-hearted drizzle.  Now.
9. You are my friend but if you nag me one more time, you will not be.  Stop expecting me to prioritize your work simply because we're pals.  I have a lot of work to do and frankly, you're pretty low on the totem pole around here.  I know who butters my bread and it isn't you.  Friendship is friendship and work is work, ok?
10. Howsabout you reporters give the Olympic athletes time to catch their breath and compose themselves before interviewing them?  I know we're all atwitter to hear what they have to say, but we can wait for five minutes.  I can't understand them when they're speaking between ragged breaths anyway.
11. Why did you stop working again, cd player?  Do you know how sad I am?  Did you really have to stop working at the exact moment that Claire was having a screaming meltdown?  All I wanted to do was play her favorite song so she would get a grip about whatever preschool tragedy started all the screaming.  But no.  You declined to cooperate and I had to endure the screaming.  You are toying with me, I think.
12. The vacuum works better when you empty it.  It's not hard to empty, really.  It will take less time and energy to empty it than you are expending by complaining about how worthless the vacuum is.  So just do it already.  (Sadly, this one is directed toward myself.)
13. You know it's been a long week when you can't post a Thursday 13 until Friday.

Monday, August 18, 2008

A Festival of Our Own

Last week, I received a postcard in the mail about a multicultural festival in a nearby park. I set it aside for later consideration. On Saturday after spending far too much time at Target aquiring school uniforms and supplies, I remembered the festival. The children were stir-crazy from shopping. The weather was absolutely perfect. So, I packed everyone up and off we went!
Tower Grove Park is huge. It's not the biggest park in the city, but it's close. It runs 12 or 13 blocks East-West and 4 or 5 North-South. I didn't worry when I didn't see festival signs right away. I told the kids to keep a sharp eye out for dancing throngs while I manouvered into the central drive of the park. I started to worry a bit when I realized that parking was readily availabe. Suddenly, Jacob hollered, "There! It's over there! And they have a bouncer!" Claire took up the bouncer chant. Then sadly, I realized that we were coming up on a birthday party. We kept driving.
Eventually, I realized that I'd made some sort of error. There obviously was no festival that day - just reunion after birthday party after wedding. The idea of returning home with bouncerless, baklavaless, still stir-crazy children was not appealing so I parked and chased the children out of the car.
I looked at water lilies. The lily ponds are beautiful and I was amazed by the breadth of color. The children chased the ducks and counted the ducklings.
We played in this fountain.

There is a wading pool between the bubble jets and the building. Jake ripped off his shoes and shirt and was soaked in less than twenty seconds. Claire followed suit giggling, "I'm like a mermaid!". They played there for an hour or so while I soaked my feet in the pool and my face in the sun. We dried off on some nearby swings before I finally dragged the children back to the car under protest.

I found the postcard on the table when we returned. It clearly stated that the festival is on August 23-24. I'm grateful for my error, although I really would have liked some baklava.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Vacation

We took a week out of our regular lives to go to the beach. We rented a bigger care and drove many hours in order to:

• swim in Lake Michigan
• dig in some sand
• pick blueberries
• sleep
• read umpteen books
• eat ice cream, corndogs, and other vacation food
• figure out how on earth to recycle cans from Missouri in Michigan (not as easy as one would suspect and quite possibly illegal)
• illegally dump (sorry, nameless business with the open dumpster but we were desperate and didn't have room in the car to haul our trash all the way back to Missouri)
• discover that we all really like each other
• discover that we all really like each other better when we aren't driving from Michigan to Missouri in one long day with entirely too many potty stops

Now we've been back home for almost a week. We have:

• caught up on the laundry
• almost gotten the sand from our hair
• remembered why we were stressed out before we took the vacation
• eaten most, but not all, of the blueberries (pancakes, anyone?)
• recycled Michigan cans in Missouri without fuss, bother, or illegal activity
• taken as many potty breaks as we want to without the shrill voice of the driver screeching that no one could possibly need to urinate every twenty minutes

So, back to normal almost. School starts on the 25th, so we've got one more week of official summer left. We have two more months of summer weather, though. I have done almost nothing on my list from the beginning of the summer, but have accomplished much that wasn't listed. Good enough. I'm ready to get back into our normal routine. I've been out of my rut for too long

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Oh good heavens, I'm at it again

Oh how I'm weary of those who are wary
Who mistakenly write the wrong word.
Weary means tired and wary means leery,
To swap them is really absurd.

Wear and ware are homophones, it's true,
Weary and wary are most certainly not.
Carefully choose the word that you use
Lest others think your brain's gone to rot.

While I'm expounding on words and their use
In this public and peevish confessional,
Let me also include pique and peak as an issue
In letters meant to be quite professional.

My interest is piqued in the product you seek
to place on my company's website.
Yet you attempted to peak it and stranded my interest
on a mount of incredible height.

Know the limits of your vocabulary, please.
Plain words can get your point across.
If you use the wrong word you can be assured
That your effort will be labeled as dross.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Tastes Like Guilt

Friday, 5 pm
I stopped by the grocery for hamburger buns after picking up the kids. The kids were in good moods, so I decided to go ahead and shop for the week. Any fool knows that good moods at 5pm on Friday are capricious, so we were rolling through the store at light speed. Produce! Seafood! Deli! Dairy! Dairy! Dairy! We hit a snag.
A middled aged woman was doddering around the milk cooler. I smiled and excused myself as I reached around her for a gallon. I glanced to the left and saw her cart. My heart sank when I saw the suitcase in the cart. I prayed, "Oh please God, not now. I just want to get home. Pleasepleasepleaseplea-"
"Ah! 2%! A whole gallon! But you have two little ones so of course you need a whole gallon. It's just me so I just need a quart. I like skim. Do you like skim?" I froze the smile on my face and tried to be nice without getting involved. I was edging toward the bagels and freedom when Jake started asking for vanilla yogurt. I said no. Jake started arguing. The suitcase lady asked about my yogurt preferences. I weighed my options. I decided that capitulating was preferable to a full-out yogurt battle with interference from a stranger. I hissed to Jake that he had better eat the yogurt this time and tossed a large tub into the cart. When we had retreated to the relative safety of ethnic foods, I reminded Jake that he didn't eat the last tub of yogurt. This was his last chance. He solemnly nodded and we wrapped up our errand.
This morning, 6:43 am
Jacob requested a bagel for breakfast. I peeked in the fridge and saw one lonely little bagel. We started the negotiation process. "There's only one bagel. You can't eat it because then Claire will want one."
"I can eat one part and Claire can eat the other part."
"OK, but you'll have to have something else. Half a bagel isn't enough breakfast." Jake wakes up hungry and usually eats a large breakfast. It's not uncommon for him to eat an adult portion of oatmeal and then clamor for more. "How about some yogurt?"
"What kind is it? I think I'll just have a granola bar."
I could feel my veins constricting. "It's vanilla. The kind you asked for at the store and promised me you would eat. Granola bars aren't food*. They're treats. Eat half a bagel and some yogurt and then you can eat a granola bar." I heard Jacob mumble his assent. Three minutes later, I put the toasted bagel and two bowls of yogurt on the table and called the kids to breakfast.
"I'm not eating this! I don't like this kind of yogurt! I like the little yogurts!"
"It's the same thing, Jacob! Vanilla yogurt is vanilla yogurt! It doesn't matter what container it is in!" I put both hands on my head and squeezed to prevent my head from exploding. "Eat! Your! Breakfast!! I am not making anything else for you." He refused and sent the bowl of yogurt spinning across the table. I opened the cupboard, took out the last granola bar, and shoved it in my lunch bag. I gathered Claire and left the house, hugging a sobbing Jake on my way out the door. "Goodbye. Have a good day. Dad will be awake soon."
Now
I'm hungry and I'm looking at a granola bar. I should be able to enjoy it. Jake won't die for lack of a granola bar. So tell me why it tastes like peanut buttery guilt.
* Of course granola bars are food. But my children will eat five granola bars per day if I let them. Granola bars should not make up 50% of a child's diet. Therefore, we put them solidly in the treat/snack category of food. No granola bars for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Friday, July 25, 2008

It's a Hard Knock Life, Kid

I have never been a big fan of bottled water.  I am too cheap and too concerned about waste to feel good about buying something that comes free and clear into my home with the twist of a knob.  There are occasions when I swallow my reservations and buy a few bottles (which are later recycled, never fear) but I refuse on principle to allow bottled water to become part of my daily life. 

 

Instead, we own several sport bottles.  A red wide-mouthed bottle that I received as a gift from a vendor sits on my desk at work.  I have a frosted plastic Rubbermaid bottle with a flip top for games, hikes, trips to the park, etc.  The kids each have blue bottles with pull-up squirt tops.  I can't use those because I've never mastered the art of squirting liquid into my mouth.  I cough and gag and well, it's embarrassing.  There are also two reserve bottles that sit in the cupboard until one of the other bottles go missing for a day or two, which is to say that they never sit in the cupboard.  All in all, it's not difficult for the children to take a drink of water with them wherever they go.  Nonetheless, Jacob is constantly on my case to buy him disposable bottles of water.  An icy cold bottle of Aquafina is to him what a plastic cup of beer is to a frat boy. 

 

I took Jake to the baseball game the other night.  I was worried that unsealed bottles would have to be emptied*  and finding an hygienic water fountain at the ballpark can be an adventure, so I broke down and bought a couple of bottles on the way into the stadium.  Jacob downed his entire 24oz bottle by the bottom of the second.  I suppose I should be glad that he didn't pull out a bong to drink it.  He immediately started edging toward my water.  I gave him The Look.  He snatched his hand back and whined, "I'm soooo thirsty.  I don't need a soda or even a lemonade.  Can't I please just have some water?"  The trio of young women in front of us wheeled around and glared at me.  I glared back.  I know that they were thinking that even prisoners are entitled to water, but they weren't privy to the whole story.  Somehow, Jake managed to muddle through without anything further to drink.  Somehow, I managed to muddle through the multiple bathroom visits since Jake's bladder only seems to hold about 3 ounces.

 

I still had half my bottle left when we got home.  I filled it again from the tap and stuck it in the freezer.  Then I told Jake that he could take it on his field trip Friday.  The poor kid couldn't decide whether he hit the jackpot with two!! bottles of water in one week or whether I was the cruelest mother on earth for making him wait a day and a half to drink it.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

13 Happies

Blame Katie for this Pollyannaness. I certainly do.

1. It's less than 90 degrees outside and it's July. I am so grateful for this mild summer that I cannot possibly express it.
2. Cold brewed coffee over ice has replaced my sweetened iced coffee habit - and it tastes better.
3. Sleep. Both of my children are sleeping at night finally and I can sleep 6-7 hours in a row almost every night of the week. It feels so good to be rested.
4. Yesterday when I was changing my clothes, I caught Nick ogling my stretch-marked, flabby, saggy, cottage-cheesy body. And he didn't hear a word I said until I was dressed again. So, however I feel about my body, it's still good enough for him.
5. I picked up How Mama Brought the Spring at the library and we've been reading it. Claire snuggles up. Jake drifts in and circles ever closer until he's leaning on my arm. We're making blintzes this weekend. I've never tasted one before and I'm excited.
6. Nick only has 3 more classes before summer semester is over. Then we have a whole month before the fall semester starts. I'm glad he's going to school and I'm so proud of him (he's on the dean's list!) but I live for the breaks.
7. I'm having minor success in my attempt to stop biting my nails. I won't say that I've exactly quit yet, but they aren't nibbled down to the quick either. It's very hard and I'm quite proud of myself for getting this far.
8. The air conditioning in the office is being fixed right this very minute.
9. Project Runway is on again. I don't care much about fashion, but I do love watching skilled people create sometimes beautiful things out of cabbage, plastic cups, and ultrasuede. Besides, watching tense people squabble always tends to give me a little perspective.
10. Moments before I threw my lunch away in disgust, I remembered that I had actually put hummus on the flatbread instead of the cream cheese I had originally thought to use. So the brown stuff oozing out was not rotten but delicious. Thank goodness.
11. The pink binkie (pacifier) has show up again. There was much rejoicing in all the land.
12. In just under two months, I'm going to be zipping across a canyon with a group of strong, funny, vibrant women. I am counting the days. My scream will likely be heard around the world.
13. I love and am loved.