Do not dare complain when, on the tenth of May, you awaken to a beautifully brisk morning.
Right away you should praise God for global warming, because of its wonderful cooling effects on the Earth.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
hormone-infused truth
Warning: This post is not for the weak of heart. Turn back now if you don't want to read my brutally honest, not-so-pretty feelings... the ones that I try like hell to hide or avoid thinking, because, after all, aren't we all supposed to be perfectly happy, joy-filled, squeaky clean Christians who always do the right thing? Don't say I didn't warn you. I will understand if you avoid me in the grocery line from now on.
I hate Mother's Day.
There is so much pressure to have the day be perfect:
"Don't fight today, it's Mother's Day, and we want it to be special for Mommy."
ugh!
Trying to be something you aren't:
Fakey fakeness.
Besides, they can't hold out from arguing longer than breakfast anyway.
Even when I try not to have expectations, they are there,
hiding in the same part of my being where "magical childhood wishful thinking" remains.
For the record, I want to be a buff size 14 with a spotlessly clean house, all the nagging chores already completed so that I don't feel chained to the house so that in turn, I can feel free enough to leave this chore-filled prison and actually go out and enjoy such a beautiful day that God created.
All the handmade cards scribbled on colorful construction paper, with their misspelled words and drawn flowers are all so nice.
Really. They are.
But then the guilt I feel for not wanting to make a "Mother's Day Card Museum" of my house as I toss them into the trash a week later becomes a heavy burden.
Why can't today just be a plain ol normal day?
Fold the laundry.
Clean the bathrooms.
Wipe down the dining room table.
Monday's coming!
Y'know, Monday?
or Tuesday,
Wednesday... whichever....
When you can relax and sit back and ignore the things Mom asks you to do.
Where you can roll your eyes and no one says anything.
The day you don't have to respect your Mother.
Because, after all
what does she think it is, Mother's Day?
Thursday, May 6, 2010
she's breakin' my heart
Signs that the three year old is maturing....
When she no longer calls him "Lady-Pooh".
He is now "Windy-Pooh".
I remember when No. 3 used to call a "knife" a "life". It was so adorable that I just couldn't correct her. Same with this Lady-Pooh thing. I just couldn't tell her she was saying it wrong. I knew she would figure it out when she got old enough to hear the difference. *sigh*
Thankfully, No.5 still says "cool" for "pool". But I'll be willing to bet that by the middle of the summer, she will self-correct that bit of innocent sugar-sweetness, too.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
summer is on its way....
... and you will want to know this.
When I visit Darby's blog, it makes me want to be her BFF, or her neighbor, or, hell, even her #1 stalker. She is the. cutest. person. ever! And she makes me wish I was that young (and that thin).
yeeee-owww
Might I just say that I cannot stand the annoying, painful feeling that occurs when the wire from my favorite brassiere works its way out and starts poking the tender underarm area. Not only does it hurt like crazy, but it signals the end of a beautiful relationship.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
ahhhhhhh
We survived it.
Our nearly 100 year old house almost didn't, but the rest of us survived an After-Spring-Formal-for-fourteen-7th-graders last night. Number One, gorgeous soul that she is, wore a vintage dress (much to her mother's delight) and Number Two, handsome lad that he is, wore the "uniform" of first year students: white pants, white oxford, navy tie, and navy blazer.
They looked so beautiful with their partners, but here they are together at the house before leaving for the dance.
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