My dear, sweet husband had to go out of town on business. I hate to complain because it only happens once, sometimes twice a year - however, this time I have TWO children to contend with instead of one. I realize how much I do depend on him to take over when he gets home from work because the work never stops around here. Little Man wants a bottle, Baby Girl needs a snack, the phone rings, Blue's Clues is over and she wants Foster's on, I come back to find she's gotten into her art box and decorated my carpet with glitter - it never ends.
I love him very much and want him home, but I think at this point, I miss him more because I am tired and need a break. My sweet little angels are becoming Hell's Angels, complete with leather chaps. Which brings me to a question - how many times can a mom be told, "Oh, it's just the terrible twos!" before she snaps?
Friday, May 25, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
My door
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This certainly applies to art as I found out this weekend. DH and I volunteered at a local arts festival all weekend and got to meet some very awesome (and influential) people around here as well as look at A LOT of art. In one booth were these really, in my opinion, hideous projects where the artist had pasted faces onto wood then sewn fabric floating bodies around the"head". Basically they looked like scary, colorful hanging ghosts. On first glance, I winced and said, "NO way are those going to sell."
Sitting on steps eating a funnel cake on day 4, I saw a very happy gentleman carrying one of these prized specters away along with what I can only imagine were other "beautiful" pieces of artwork. I was wrong.
Again, it is so subjective. The one piece of artwork that I really wanted was a large photograph of a door that just happened to be taken by one of DH's friends. I had my eye on it the entire weekend, expecting that the next time we came to his booth, it would be gone. We came by often as we were helping run his booth and the one next to his. Many people commented on it, liked it, pondered out loud where this particular door was located, but no one purchased it. At the end of the festival the poor door was still sitting there and I was considering asking DH to purchase it. However, in a very sweet gesture, the artist asked DH which one I liked and offered to give it to us for helping him out. It is now proudly displayed in my living room. It is my door now.
Sitting on steps eating a funnel cake on day 4, I saw a very happy gentleman carrying one of these prized specters away along with what I can only imagine were other "beautiful" pieces of artwork. I was wrong.
Again, it is so subjective. The one piece of artwork that I really wanted was a large photograph of a door that just happened to be taken by one of DH's friends. I had my eye on it the entire weekend, expecting that the next time we came to his booth, it would be gone. We came by often as we were helping run his booth and the one next to his. Many people commented on it, liked it, pondered out loud where this particular door was located, but no one purchased it. At the end of the festival the poor door was still sitting there and I was considering asking DH to purchase it. However, in a very sweet gesture, the artist asked DH which one I liked and offered to give it to us for helping him out. It is now proudly displayed in my living room. It is my door now.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
1417 days, 0 hours, 8 minutes
I'm not a writer, an author or poet - I can barely compose a good email. Don't expect too much.
In the past three years, I married the man I love, bought a home in a great location and have given birth to two of the most awesome human beings I will ever have the privilege to know. It has been a whirlwind of nonstop activity, and for the most part, I have enjoyed every bit of it. I have been incredibly blessed and although I don't feel worthy sometimes, I am trying to live up to the blessings.
I am learning that the blessings come with surprises too. Such as yesterday when I was on the phone with my friend who had been out of town for a week. We spent about 30 minutes catching up, all the while Little Man was playing in the floor. I got off the phone and went to check on him - let's say I smelled him before I saw him. Accepting my doody duty, I grabbed the wipes and diaper and sat down on the floor by him. He was laying on his back, so I pulled him by his feet toward me - that's when I saw it. The trail of poop he had dragged behind him. I immediately got a towel to lay him on, and as I rolled him over to assess the damage, I saw he had not only pooped out of his diaper but up his back, all over his clothes and into his hair. In his hair people. That is Olympic class pooping.
I gave him a good once over, started the bath water running and heard my 2yo daughter waking up. I opened her bedroom door so she could come out when she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and went to check the water. She joined me in the bathroom and hugged me when I felt something wet against my leg. Today was a two-fer - she had peed out of her diaper overnight and was soaking wet all over her nightshirt and pants.
All of this as I was 20 minutes from walking out the door to a scheduled playdate.
In a rare turn of events, the day did get better. The playdate went better than expected, Baby Girl was too funny when she tried to put her Elmo ( Spoken: "Melmo") in my ring sling and Heroes was on last night. Nothing can go wrong when Heroes is on.
In the past three years, I married the man I love, bought a home in a great location and have given birth to two of the most awesome human beings I will ever have the privilege to know. It has been a whirlwind of nonstop activity, and for the most part, I have enjoyed every bit of it. I have been incredibly blessed and although I don't feel worthy sometimes, I am trying to live up to the blessings.
I am learning that the blessings come with surprises too. Such as yesterday when I was on the phone with my friend who had been out of town for a week. We spent about 30 minutes catching up, all the while Little Man was playing in the floor. I got off the phone and went to check on him - let's say I smelled him before I saw him. Accepting my doody duty, I grabbed the wipes and diaper and sat down on the floor by him. He was laying on his back, so I pulled him by his feet toward me - that's when I saw it. The trail of poop he had dragged behind him. I immediately got a towel to lay him on, and as I rolled him over to assess the damage, I saw he had not only pooped out of his diaper but up his back, all over his clothes and into his hair. In his hair people. That is Olympic class pooping.
I gave him a good once over, started the bath water running and heard my 2yo daughter waking up. I opened her bedroom door so she could come out when she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and went to check the water. She joined me in the bathroom and hugged me when I felt something wet against my leg. Today was a two-fer - she had peed out of her diaper overnight and was soaking wet all over her nightshirt and pants.
All of this as I was 20 minutes from walking out the door to a scheduled playdate.
In a rare turn of events, the day did get better. The playdate went better than expected, Baby Girl was too funny when she tried to put her Elmo ( Spoken: "Melmo") in my ring sling and Heroes was on last night. Nothing can go wrong when Heroes is on.
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