Confessions confession

Alright, so after taking a look at the results of the poll in the previous post, I would like to thank all of you for your vote of confidence in my parenting skills. No, I didn’t tell Violet a spider was going to get her, the fish is still alive (because he’s a beta and that’s just what they do–fed or not), and I can’t let Henry run around nekkid because he pees on cue. The cue being no diaper. Not convenient.

So anyway, through the process of elimination you may have assumed by now that the thing that I do sometimes is throw away priceless keepsakes like Violet’s art. I do keep some things, just not most of it. I try not to collect stuff to form memories around, because that same stuff only complicates the present with clutter. I literally have a few journals from my childhood and teen years–nothing else. Sometimes I wish I had saved more things, but then I remember that 99% of the time that memorabilia just ends up in a box somewhere collecting space and dust.

So here’s my rules for storing memories:

keep pictures.

keep journals/some drawings

take your vitamins and exercise to keep your brain healthy so you can remember your memories

spend time with people, not stuff about people.


True Confessions

Well, it’s Monday.

It’s raining, I have a headache, and I need to go grocery shopping. Has anyone other than me ever noticed how miserable it is to grocery shop in the rain? With two little people who don’t like getting rained on? Anyway,

I am going to list three lies and a truth–you pick the true confession.

Vote on the one you think is true–all the others are lies.


Last blog post ever…probably

Hey everyone,

As IĀ  write this, the end of the world is upon us. AJ and I have decided to spend our last precious moments watching a TV show on our laptop while our kids sleep upstairs. In case you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve probably heard by now that the world is going to end today, May 21st 2011. We had a beautiful day at the park with both of our family to jointly celebrate our last day on earth togetherĀ  as well as Henry’s first birthday. Luckily, the weather was beautiful. I was going to upload pictures tomorrow morning, but si…


Henry Turns 1!

If I was a schizophrenic, my alternate personality would be curled up in a corner with a bottle of cheap wine crying over the end of Henry’s first year. Luckily, I’m not. Nothing against cheap wine though…that Arbor Mist stuff is the best kept secret in Rite Aid’s wine section. I kid. I kid…Really, I’ve never had it *cough, cough*.

So, before I start my paragraph about how much I love Henry and how much fun it’s been having him in our family, I would like to share with you one of the many reasons I love my husband. Yes, of course one of them is that one year ago today, it was just to two of us in our bedroom welcoming a fat, pink, little boy into the world with Violet sleeping in the other room. Of course I love him for that, but that’s a no-brainer. I’d be crazy not to love the guy who had his pregnant wife turn to him on the way to church one morning two weeks before the birth of their second child to inform him that not only did she want to have the baby at home instead of at a hospital, but also with no one else attending. What did he do? Well, of course he said yes, because everyone knows you don’t disagree with a woman who can’t see her feet over her pregnant belly.

Anyway, here’s another reason I love him. This evening for dinner we took the chillun’s to Red Robin. It was the most reliable place to be loud enough to cover the noise of two children under three eating dinner. That, and they do that whole birthday song and a sundae thing for birthdays. Towards the end of our meal, we ordered a chocolate banana shake to share around. I didn’t make a cake today since we’re celebrating his birthday with the extended family after we move. When you order a shake at Red Robin, they come with the rest of the shake in the icy metal container it was mixed in. I picked it up and started in with a spoon, which was a good idea. If future me had also been there, I would certainly have told myself not to put the spoon down and try to drink the melty parts right out of the canister. But I wasn’t, so I did. I tipped it back and three things happened all at once.

Instead of a gentle stream of chocolate-banana-melty goodness, the entire mass of ice cream shake came straight for me. It was like being at the ocean and not timing a wave right and getting the whole thing right in your open mouth. Except that it was not just in my mouth. Since my head was tipped back, I got milkshake so far up my nose that I’m pretty sure if I cleaned my ears with Q-tips, chocolate shake would come out.

Immediately, I wanted nothing more than to die. Die, dead, gone. I just wanted a giant wall of immortality to swallow up the wave of frozen shame that had just engulfed the lower half of my face.

The third thing that happened was that AJ saw the entire thing. As I’m frantically scrambling for shreds of my lost dignity, AJ sat back with a giant guffaw of a laugh and reached for another french fry. No “Can I help you, dear wife who is also holding my crazed beast of a son while attempt to mop ice cream off your face, neck, and shirt?” None of that. His reaction was pretty much “Dinner and a show! Nice.”

The only other thing I have to say about this is that the only thing I can smell is chocolate. It’s been three hours.

AJ just fell asleep on the couch. More on Henry later then…


A Short Play

What Doth She Perceive

[The Players]

The Mother

The Father

Boy in Playground



Enter Violet, playing further and further from the playground as she chases a boy.

Boy in playground: “Come hither, fair maid! What greater bliss can hap to us than to run to yonder tree in the parking lot where any number of carriages await us!”

The Mother: “What art thou, but my daughter and my kin! Make haste to return to me lest I smite thee bottom!”

Violet: “I heed thee not, fair Mother!”

The Mother: “Then show this love, this kindness to thy sire!”

The Mother: “Violet! Certain danger awaits thee, make haste and return!”

The Father: “Violet! I commit this charge to thy trust; by Heaven and all the moving orbs thereof, ’tis not merely my trust thou dost break. Return, or pay dearly.”

The Father: “How now Violet! Thou dost rend my heart by thy conduct.”


Violet sits on yonder blanket, weeping bitterly as her mother approaches.

The Mother: “Why dost thou cry, small one?”

Violet: “Be be be-tuzz Daddy doth make me sit in timeout.”

The Mother: “And what is timeout, but no less than banishment from yon pernicious company? Ye came here not lightly, I’ll warrant, for the safety of thy dear form is equaled in passion by the love of the sea to the shore.”

The Mother: “And so why does thou think thy father has commanded that thou sit here?”

Violet: “Betuzz Daddy doesn’t want me to play.”

The Mother: “What? Canst thou see no deeper reason for thy banishment to this blanket?”

Violet: “Betuzz Daddy doesn’t wike me to play.”

The Mother: “….”


No news is good news

sorry about my blogging delinquencies. here’s what’s new.

We’re moving to our favorite town. (In a week or so)

Anyone want to rent our condo?

A house with a big fenced yard.

Henry has squeaky shoes that are encouraging him to start walking (but only when he forgets that he can’t).

Violet’s understanding of life continues to grow exponentially every day, which is pretty overwhelming to keep up with.

I am currently playing peek-a-boo with the H Man.

Ola the fish is still alive.

Henry is a few days short of his first birthday. I’m trying to be okay with being done with the baby phase.

Plus, he’s completely weaned. *sniff*

And we’ve renamed him Brutus.

Violet is trending to be about 6 feet tall.

We are so excited about getting into a house and out of our tiny condo.

She wants a dog STAT. Like yesterday. And a kitty, but until I get the yard reestablished, I am not having to chase a cat out of my garden beds.

Anyone want to give us a dog?

Violet loves Jesus and talks about Him all the time. Her heart is like soft, rich soil. There is nothing about the gospel that is confusing or frustrating to her. “Faith like a child” is best demonstrated in a child. She was pretty upset about how the whole Easter story started out with Jesus being hurt, and equally elated to hear how he conquered death and our sin to save us forever. I know, it sounds a little ridiculous even to write it out, but the parts of our gospel that seem to me like they would be difficult to understand are a piece of cake to her. Earlier we were talking about an owie on her forehead and I asked her if she wanted a bandaid if only for emotional support.

“No Mom, Ban-aids don’t make my owie better, God make it better.”

Uhhhh, yeah…you got me there.

Also, I am packing up my house in faith that our deal will go through. I really don’t want to have to unpack in this house.

The boy just high-centered himself on the edge of the toybox. Not funny, good moms don’t laugh at something like that…oops.

In conclusion, here’s my deep thought for the day that I didn’t come up with and hold no copyright to.

Worry is irrelevant.

Spending your life focusing your greatest energy on something completely irrelevant is like collecting Blink-182 memorabilia.