Thursday, May 26, 2005

The 40 Random Q&A

I came across these questions and figured they would make for a fun post...

1) My uncle once:
Wore spandix, hung a plastic pork chop from his neck and referred to his wrestling alter-ego as “Raw Meat”.

2) Never in my life:
Will I resign myself to being unhappy.

3) When I was five:
I ate a SPECIAL brownie.

4) High School was:
At best, enlightening if you are patient enough for life to come full circle (oh, and when you run into *certain* classmates 10 years later asking if you’d like fries with that…)

5) I will never forget:
9-11

6) I once met:
Stephen King (the engineer…)

7) There’s this girl I knew who:
Used to pull out her eyelashes / eyebrows when she was anxious.

8) Once, at a bar:
I had a manicure.

9) By noon I’m usually:
Showered.

10) Last night:
Noah laid on my tummy and drilled me on animal sounds.

11) If I only had:
An extra hour of sleep.

12) Next time I go to church:
I will remember Noah’s diaper bag (that was one smelly nursery last week…)

13) Terry Schiavo:
Was an unfortunate woman.

14) What worries me most:
Jonny Depp retiring.

15) When I turn my head left, I see:
My coffee mug.

16) When I turn my head right, I see:
The sunshine.

17) You know I’m lying when:
Believe me, you’ll just know!

18) What I miss most about the eighties:
Parachute pants. ("NOT!")

19) If I was a character written by Shakespeare, I’d be:
Anybody from The Comedy of Errors

20) By this time next year:
I want to be pregnant. No wait. New sod. Yes. I want new sod.

21) A better name for me would be:
"Ms. Fix It"

22) I have a hard time understanding:
Dishonest people.

23) If I ever go back to school I’ll:
(monkies will fly out of my butt first.)

24) You know I like you if:
I tease you.

25) If I won an award, the first person I’d thank would be:
My family.

26) Darwin, Mozart, Ron White & Geraldine Ferraro:
Confused, Genius, Hilarious and Resourceful.

27) Take my advice, never:
Believe anyone who tells you “it will only take a minute”

28) My ideal breakfast is:
Coffee, french toast, eggs, hashbrowns and sausage (links).

29) A song I love, but do not have is:
Oh - there are so many.

30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest:
You think better of it and go somewhere else. (Unless you need to cross “See Large Snowman” off your to-do list.)

31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars:
My favorite, Something other people have, A good idea, Skinny and sweaty.

32) Why won’t people:
Think before they speak.

33) If you spend the night at my house:
You can have the bottom bunk.

34) I’d stop my wedding for:
Nothing I can think of.

35) The world could do without:
Immitation butter.

36) I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than:
Hmmm Nope.

37) My favorite blonde is:
Max.

38) Paper clips are more useful than:
Dr. Laura.

39) If I do anything well, it’s:
Telling a story.

40) And by the way:
Your zipper’s down.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

One, Two, (Three?)

I have been drafting, redrafting, deleting and editing this post for over a month now. I almost feel as if the ideas and concerns stored within it could be burried and refered to as a crazy episode if left alone.

Not long ago Andy made a comment that has thrown me into a whirlwind of extreme emotions. I wasn't expecting it, I didn't see it it coming but there it was: "maybe we should have another baby". After I regained consciousness, I simply wanted to know why. WHY would he bring this up now? After Noah was born, we put a lot of energy into this decision and finally settled on keeping our family contained with our two beloved and energetic boys. I realize that as the parent of a 2-year old, I am somewhat biased on the theory of procreating further. However, I thought we had made the solid decision for (forgive me) sanity...or partial sanity. Whatever.

During the eternity of silence I provided in order to think up an apt response, Andy may have noticed my pale face, twitching left eye and sweaty palms. I began to imagine myself dramatically agreeing with him, throwing my arms around his neck and being ever-so-thankful that my husband loves children so much. Then reality hit and I realized that the twitching eye was likely a product of the two boys' screams in the background. Tick tock tick tock. He deserves an answer... He kindly looked the other way when given the lame response of "I already donated my maternity clothes." (No, I am not a debate team alumni.)

The fact is, I don't have a solid reason other than simply being unsure. There are days when I long to go through the baby stage again and offer Elliott and Noah another person to love so much. But then there are those extreme opposite days when I think sleep is kinda nice. (See? Again with the lame responses.)

I know I can handle life in its current form.

I know I would have to undergo some personal changes to firmly accept a third child.

I know that I'm going to have a hard time resisting the desire for another baby when all of you (and you know who you are) have those new precious little ones in your arms.

and best of all...

I know I have plenty of time on my hands. Whew.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

God Bless This Mess

((Disclosure: The following may cause you to take pride in being messy.))

I was having an after dinner drink with a girlfriend of mine who lives just a few doors down and something she said during the coarse of our conversation jumped up and grabbed hold of me.

In the way of background, my girlfriend used to travel abroad for her husband's career, and while it may have been difficult at times, it's no secret that she misses the extremely simple lifestyle that Sweden had to offer. When she met a family joining the neighborhood from Italy, she felt she may have the ability to lend a hand. Apparently, this couple and their three girls had been uprooted and transferred here due to daddy's job. Mom hardly knows a soul. While her husband goes to the office each day, she faces a multitude of decisions ranging from her childrens' schooling to town navigation.

After they got to know each other a bit, my girlfriend was invited for coffee. She packed up her two little boys and strolled over. She said it was the most refreshing pot of coffee she ever had the pleasure of sharing. There were no scones, no fancy creams and no pretenses. She walked into what she felt was the most messy room of the house. They plopped down amidst the dolls, books and crayons. Plastic teacups and musical instruments as far as the eye could see. The boys joined the girls and for once, my girlfriend didn't feel the need to rush after her one-year old to tidy up. The kids played, the moms talked and, what else? ...drank coffee.

We so often force ourselves to go to the extreme for guests. We cook, we bake, we clean and we scrub. What a facade to think that all of this fussing is going to make them feel more at home. Let's be honest, they probably have quite a mess waiting for them back at the house. While I'm not going to completely shirk my chores from here on out, you can bet I am going to help you, my friend, feel more at home.

Monday, May 09, 2005

Coffee or Kibble?

As most holidays with my family go, Mother's day was quite entertaining. After a morning of breakfast at the local greasy spoon and some light errands, Andy the boys and I made our way home to await our guest of honor; my mom. Just before they were due to arrive, I received a call from mom indicating that they had picked up my great grandmother Marshall (who will be celebrating her 90th birthday in less than a month). Andy immediately panicked and openly admitted to his anxiety about having her. I put on a brazen front and shamed him for thinking so coldly...but inside I was hearing the Psycho theme song.

Grandma Hazel, while slowed by age, has always terrified me. Sure, the natural bonds of kinship are evident and I always felt comfort while at her home eating stuffed pork chops and homemade applesauce. But don't let the banana bread baking in the oven fool you - Hazel Marshall is not your typical 'sweet little old lady'. She can darn your socks and swear like a sailor without thinking twice about it. Sad as it is, her hearing and mind are at the ends of their respective journeys. By the time you've shouted a pleasantry two or three times so she can hear you, she's forgotten who the 'hell' you are.

They arrived and helped granny up the sidewalk sturdied by her cane (which still donned the contraversial ice pick on the bottom)...(in MAY I might add.) Into the sunroom she went where she would be able to see the action around her. Little Max took to her right away, and she to him. "Here kitty kitty kitty; good kitty!" I opened my mouth in an effort to clarify that Max is a dog, but mom shot me the "just let it go" look.

Granny was eventually settled and the boys finally succeeded in pulling my rather hesitant mother outside with the others. There we were. Me and granny. Gulp. I can do this.

Max came to my rescue by seeking all of her attention. Being as they were having so much fun together, I grabbed a small handful of doggie treats for granny to feed him with. (I can do this!) I looked out the window and gave my mom a confident wave. When I returned my attention to granny, she was happily sipping her coffee and munching on a milk bone.

The art of being subtle is...let's say 'difficult' for me to grasp... I bolted out of my chair with stumbling speed, and thrust my cupped hands under her chin yelling for her to "spit out the tummy yummy!" This wonderful display of drama took granny by suprise, and for the first time ever, SHE was scared of ME.

When the color returned to my face, I was sure I could hear the heavens boom with the resounding laughs of my own grandmother who watched this display from above. "Atta girl!" She would have said, "Atta girl!"

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Cloudy With Chance of Sun

The unforgiving cloud called cancer has found its way back into the unsuspecting lives of the loved ones around me. At approximately 3 o’clock Wednesday afternoon, Andy and I were informed that Grandpa Wiberg (Andy’s maternal grandfather) is its latest victim. They’re telling us it’s in the lungs and it's advanced.

While I am inclined to hang my head and fight back tears at the news, I am comforted by the very words that Grandpa Jerry (as the boys refer to him) told Andy during their visit. “Hey, it’s okay. I had a good run and I'm ready.” I’ve never known him to be a man of many words but I’ve found that when he does speak, we listen. What a wonderful way to comfort those around him (especially his grandchild.)

I pray for those loved ones around me who are hurting and I pray especially that the inevitable reunion between Jerry and Pam is as spectacular as I imagine it to be.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005


Brotherhood Posted by Hello