Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Mr. Pastor, you need to come start a church in my neighborhood.
I'm just sayin'.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Such things as:
- A nativity scene. Complete with the devil standing by. Painted completely red, with a skull between his feet and a beer bottle in his right hand. Sure seems to take the "serene" out of the scene.
- A box tossed by the side of the road with a blanket in it. Closer examination reveal little puppy feet. 3 dead puppies.
- An empty condom wrapper under the park bench
- About 4 pounds of cooked beans, heaped in the grass next to the side walk.
Sometimes I think about this whole "normal" thing. For Noah, it is normal to listen to people talking and say, "Si, si, si" or to hit the bad floor that made him bonk his head and say "Ma-o, ma-o" (Malo="bad"). It's normal he lives in a 3rd floor apartment that looks out to the mountains surrounding our city. It's Noah's life that there is no candy sweeter to him than a corn tortilla hot off the presses. It is normal for him that he lives at over 7,000 feet of altitude and that here there are more people on bikes or motorcycles than cars.
I feel like I am bringing him "normal" when I serve him up his beloved mac & cheese (Kraft, to be sure) or when I present him with a box of Crayolas. Or sing him nursery rhymes. Or turn on Blue's Clues (which he absolutely loves).
I wonder, as I look at him--straddling these two "normals". He doesn't even know he's doing it. I wonder if he will later. I hope to find and accentuate the good in both these normals, and to not project that what is not my normal is in some way inferior.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
I am at that place. That one place. Where I feel like my stomach has turned into a bag of bones. I know, it doesn't sound glowingly maternal, but it's true. Any time I move in whatever direction, it seems a leg, arm, bottom or head bone juts out in protest. And, carrying these bones makes me slowly waddle along, wincing every 5 steps or so.
I am at that one place where I huff and puff--just sitting here writing this. I often feel like I am breathing through a straw. I actually jerk awake in the middle of the night because either my or the baby's position was making it so I couldn't breathe.
I am at that place where I dream constantly about the birth. Maybe I'm not really dreaming, because it's hard to remember really sleeping--but let's just say, it's on my mind. A lot.
I am at that place, Lord forgive me, that I look narrowly upon people who judgementally say, "Well, at LEAST you can have babies!" Yes, I know. Or people that say, "A woman never looks more beautiful than when she is pregnant" (2 kinds of people: Liars and people who haven't been pregnant). Or people that say, "I soooooooo miss being pregnant. Isn't the miracle of life sooooooo wonderful??" Yes, it is. But....
I am at this place. So far along, with seemingly so far to go. I am so glad God has blessed me with a healthy little baby, and I am happy to be a mama. I just wanna to get out of this place! :)
PS--Due to some worried responses to this post, I feel I must say NOTHING is really wrong with me! I am just whining... :)
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
(I love how those shelves in the background are loaded with
In the end, the food wasn't that bad. We had a lot of fun. Maybe the bathrooms had no light bulbs, but--hey: there was a bar of soap on the sink. Maybe mariachi doesn't make me smile as much as some mellow jazz, but... ok. I did miss the music. ;)
But, in our family--we like stories to have happy endings. And this one did. Oh, yes it did.
And... we even topped that!! Rey is awesome enough to have found some cocker spaniel pups--which I've been hoping to find. We went and picked one out of the litter with Noah this evening. So cute!
Meet... hmm. Not sure on the name yet. But, he's around 2 weeks old. He's gonna stay with momma until he's bigger.
It was the perfect day.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
(prince): "Aren't you going to get a shower today?"
(me): "I did."
(snorting disdainfully): "You did? Nooooo. No you didn't."
(rather offended): "Yes, I did."
(still disdainful): "When?"
(more offended): "This morning at like 10."
(another snort): "No you didn't."
(near tears): "Yes, I did. I took a shower. I changed clothes. I blew dry my hair. I put make-up on. And THIS is what I get?"
(realizing he may be on thin ice): "Hmmm..."
How much trouble do you think he was in?
Ah, and match that with the comment he made a while ago about not being attracted to me for my "physical qualities"!! Yeah, he's sleeping on the patio these days.