Mine mine mine, all mine

kids...so easily amused

This weekend, Drew and I embarked on a nature hike with my Christian Mom's group.

There were eight adults and...let's see...one, two, three...12 children, including two babies who were only a month old, who actually had the easiest hike of all, being strapped to their respective mommies and daddies at the time. (and let me just say, bravo to a mom who can leave the house for a hike after having given birth just a month ago. when Drew was a month old I think I was still crying at the thought of walking up stairs...)

We hiked on a 1.2-mile trail around Lake Placid, at Paris Mountain State Park.

What I love, I mean absolutely adore, about taking young children out into the woods is how utterly fascinating they find everything.

I mean, we definitely saw things that any normal person would consider interesting, such as a flock of baby geese toddling along the lake's edge, dutifully following mama and dada goose and digging for grubs...

And a set of stone stairs cut into the side of a dam...(that's me and Drew in the front!)

which led to a bridge with a super view of the waterfall.

All of that is wonderful and beautiful, and I could see where any child would be captivated by it.

But what Drew found the most interesting, out of all that, were the pine cones.

Every time we saw one, he had to pick it up, exclaim over it (a pie-coe, mama! a pie-coe!) and then show it off to someone.

By the end of the hike, he rather fancied himself a pine cone connoisseur, and would discard any pine cones that had visible defects, preferring to collect only pristine cones.

Oh, and also, a bird pooped on my friend Kelly. Yeah. Right on her arm. I've never actually seen anybody get a fly-by pooping, so that was magical for me.

a prayer for Va Tech

This prayer was in my inbox today, and expresses what I want to say about the shootings at Virginia Tech very well, so I thought I'd share it with you:

"Father, right now we acknowledge You, and we acknowledge Your presence and Your sovereignty. Father, we lift up Virginia Tech and the people affected by the evil that has taken place on the campus. We pray that Your Spirit be with them. We pray that Your loving arms be wrapped around them and comfort them in this tragic time.

We pray for families, neighbors, and friends. We pray for staff, professors, and administrators. God, we pray for people. We pray for humanity. We pray that this event will not cause people to turn from You but it will cause a nation to run to You like they have never run before.

We pray for increased faith. We pray for spiritual growth. We pray for Christian fellowship and salvation of souls. We pray that Your hand will move mightily over Blacksburg, Virginia, and over this nation.

Touch souls right now and comfort broken hearts. Forgive us for our sins, Father. In Your Son Jesus Christ name we pray. Amen."

Quote of the Week from Drew

"I not a little boy. I Drew!"

must...be...strong

It's beautiful outside today. Finally. After a week of winter-weather flashback, we have sunny skies and temps in the 70s.

I have some money in the bank. Charles and I both got paid, and after paying all the bills, we're still solvent.

It's Friday, and it's been a very long week.

All this adds up to me being able to go downtown for lunch today, right? Instead of eating my Lean Cuisine panini and goldfish crackers?

But no. This is the new me. No longer will I drop $10 on lunch just because I happen to have $10 available. I have a perfectly good lunch sitting in my lunchbag under my desk.  I will eat my lunch peacefully and happily and then I will go sit outside and read my book. That's what I will do. Yep. Not gonna go downtown and get myself a smoked turkey and asparagus sandwich on sourdough bread with a side of feta-topped pasta salad from Trio.  Not...gonna...do it.

But maybe I can convince Charles to let me have Indian food for dinner, because I have a strong craving for curry.

NO! BAD! Must eat lovely already-paid-for dinner at home!

But surely is acceptable to dine out at low-priced Indian restaurant one Friday per month? right? just one time?

and payday's still four days away...

I signed up a month ago for this new feature offered by my bank, called Low Balance Alert. Basically, you can plug in a number, whatever number you want, and your bank will email you when your account falls below that amount.

Well, I got one of these alerts this morning, and let's just say, my number was set pretty darn low, mainly because I didn't want to get emails every day telling me how poor I am.

So, anyway, here I am...broke...four days before payday.

I know exactly what the problem is. It's no mystery. The problem is that I work within a two-minute walk of some of the yummiest restaurants in the world. I love to walk outside on pretty days, and I love yummy restaurants. So when the sun is shining and the temperatures are in the 70s and 80s and the birds are singing and I can see all of this out of my office window, well, it takes more willpower than I can generally muster to eat my brought-from-home Lean Cuisine microwave meal.

Yes, yes, you do-gooders, I know I could eat my crappy nuked pizza and then go for a walk outside, but why should I waste half my lunch hour nuking and eating my pizza when I could be spending the whole hour sitting in the sun at a sidewalk cafe with a portobello mushroom fajita and a good book?

So, there you have it. I have a huge weakness and a tiny paycheck.

Fortunately, today is cloudy with temperatures in the mid-50s, so eating my from-home lunch will not pose a problem for me. However, by the end of the week, temps are supposed to climb back into the 70s, and I get paid on Friday...

...must...be....good...must...bring...lunch...from....home...

Here are some pictures from the weekend:

Yes, Charles and I had another baby. A girl! Yay to us!

Ok, so, it's our niece Annagrace. She's very cuddly and talkative, and I must admit that my biological clock was screaming and cursing at me for not reproducing again RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND. But then Drew woke up from his nap and refused to eat anything except chocolate Easter bunnies for lunch and then Annagrace started crying for no apparent reason and I got a glimpse of what life would look like with a toddler and an infant and I said, no, really, thanks.

My dad (aka "Papa") with Drew and Annagrace.

We didn't do any egg hunts - it was just too cold.

I hope everyone had a lovely Easter!

Mother's Day gift idea!

I so totally want these books:

Somebody make this happen. It would just be the icing on the cake for Mother's Day this year. And Drew would learn valuable life skills that will enable him to grow up to be somebody's perfect husband and the perfect father of my no-doubt perfect grandchildren.

could you repeat that please?

About 8 or 9 years ago, I was involved in a car wreck. Some teenager driving his daddy's car ran a red light and plowed into the driver's side of my car. I ended up in the hospital with several cracked ribs, a broken collarbone, a broken shoulder blade and a concussion.

One of the side effects of concussion is temporary loss of short-term memory. In my case, temporary meant about 12 hours. So, for about eight of those 12 hours, until my parents arrived at the hospital to relieve him, Charles sat at my side and answered the same questions over and over and over and over again.

What happened? You were in a car wreck. Was anybody else hurt? No, nobody else was hurt. What's wrong with me? You have some broken bones and a concussion. Is my face all cut up? No, your face is fine.

And that was the extent of our conversation, for eight hours. Rinse, repeat, over and over, so Charles tells me, because I still have no memory of this.

He tells me I paused only to swear really loudly when one of the nurses moved my left arm (the side with all the broken bones, and they couldn't give me any pain medication until the swelling subsided in my brain) or to say, "I'm feeling a bit more lucid now", at which point I would begin the round of questions again.

To add to his torture, I refused to allow him to leave my side, even to get something to eat or go to the bathroom. (To my credit, I had no concept of the passage of time, and no doubt thought we'd only been in the hospital for minutes, rather than hours.)

I tell you all of this so that those of you who haven't had the joy of spending time with a two-year-old will know exactly, precisely what it's like.

For example, here is a reproduction of the conversation between me, my husband and Drew last night on the ride home from work:

Drew: Mama, where goin'?

Me: We're going to Drew's house.

(thoughtful pause)

Drew: Mama, see  'nother choo-choo train?

Me: Maybe we'll see another train on the way.

(thoughtful pause)

Drew: Mama. Where goin'?

Me: We're going home. To Drew's house.

(thoughtful pause)

Drew: Mama. Where goin'?

Me: Home.

Drew: Mama. See 'nother choo-choo train?

Me: Maybe.

Drew: (noticing my clipped responses) Dada. Where goin'?

Charles: We're going home.

(thoughtful pause)

Drew: Dada. Where goin'?

Charles: Where do you think we're going, Drew?

Drew: (thoughtful pause) Drew's house!

Charles: That's right!

(thoughtful pause)

Drew: Dada. See 'nother choo-choo train?

It's like living with someone with a permanent concussion. At least he pauses occasionally long enough to let us eat and go to the bathroom.

On another note - the note of "cool things I find on the Internet" - check out the Select Smart website. This website features a quiz that basically matches you up with potential 2008 presidential candidates based on your beliefs about all sorts of issues, from public education to taxation to immigration, and all sorts of other '"'tions".

Select Smart rated Rep. Duncan Hunter as a 100 percent match for me, and Sen. Sam Brownback at 95 percent.  Rep. Dennis Kucinich and ex-VP Al Gore came in lowest, with a paltry 17 percent matchup.

Just for fun, you can also use quizzes on this site to determine which Harry Potter character you most resemble (Hermione Granger), what kind of biological weapon you'd be (Anthrax), or, you know, answer the burning question of "if you were a Roman Emperor, which one would you be?" (Antoninus Pius)

Have fun!

I heart Peeps

You Are an Easter Egg

You're so sweet, you don't need candy. You much prefer the taste of artificial coloring instead.

What Easter Candy Are You?

That is so true. I'm glad that I learned this about myself today. We should all take every opportunity we can for self-reflection and personal growth.

Now, I will tell you everything I've learned this past week about interior painting:

1. That blue painter's tape that you buy at home improvement stores? It goes on really easily, but after it's been splattered with three coats of paint, it takes mortar and a few hand grenades to peel it off. I'm thinking about leaving it and just pretending like we think tacky blue crown molding is the wave of the future.
2. Latex paint washes out of hair pretty well, but not so much off of floors. Or cats.
3. No matter how much plastic you put down, you will end up with paint splatters everywhere. The plastic tarp stuff is just a ruse to get you to spend more money at Home Depot.
4. Definitely do not skimp on paint brushes. A cheap paint brush is about as useless as energy-saving advice from Al Gore.
5. You should lock your cat in another room when you're painting. (see number 2)

let the swearing begin

It's here. It got delivered last night.

This is what it's supposed to look like when it's finished:

Minus all the strange children, unless of course they're included in the cost, in which case we'll put them to work helping us build it. And then they can fold some clothes or something.

It is my sincerest and fondest wish that somebody else puts this thing together. I've already recruited Charles; now I'm working on enlisting my dad to assist him. I've asked my mom to notify me the minute she discerns that he's in a halfway decent mood, so I can jump in and beg for his favor. I told her, I don't care what time of day or night it is - as soon as you see him smile, you call me. Immediately.

As if we weren't punishing ourselves enough, we have also taken on the task of painting our downstairs. Drew is visiting with Nana and Papa, so we have exactly one week to paint approximately 1000 square feet of wall space. Yay! Oh and did I mention that we're not taking any time off work, so we're doing this all in the evenings? Double yay!

Sunday night we taped and trimmed two rooms - the dining room and Drew's playroom. Last night, I went to Lowe's and bought the paint (only $200 - vs. the $1,200 that the professional painter wanted to charge us. Now if we can avoid killing each other, Charles and I will have struck quite a bargain!) and painted primer in the dining room.

The primer is a dark grey; we're using it because we're painting those two rooms a dark red over white, so the Lowe's guy told me to use primer to cut down on the number of coats of paint we have to use. Or something like that. I don't know. What I do know is that this morning our dining room looks like the inside of a submarine.

"We can just leave it like this and call it our Yorktown room," said Charles.

Tonight my plan is for me to paint primer in the playroom while Charles puts the topcoat on the dining room, and then we'll begin the massive task of taping and trimming the hallways and the living room. Fortunately, we're painting those areas a pale yellow, so we don't need a primer.

If we get this all done by Sunday, with no fatalities, it will be a sure sign that God loves us and wants us to be happy.

the definition of 2

It all began rather innocuously.

It was a dark and stormy night. Not feeling up to cooking dinner, we decided to stop by one of our favorite restaurants on the way home.

Drew seemed to be in a pleasant mood. When we retrieved him from daycare, he graced us with smiles and hugs. He babbled happily in the backseat. He said "ES, MAMA!" when we asked if he wanted to eat mac-n-cheese at Michael's.

He grinned and waved when we entered the restaurant and told us joyously that we were there to "eat-eat" and he remembered that this was the restaurant that has the butterfly-shaped crackers on the tables. ("laller-fie cackers, mama! laller-fie cacker!")

So we took our seat and handed him the basket of assorted crackers.

And then it all went horribly wrong.

He dug, with increasing frenzy, through the basket. Then, with a puzzled furrow of his brow, looked at us and said, "Whee-ah laller-fie cacker?"

A passing waitress overheard, and uttered the words that would lead to our doom.

"Oh, hun, we're out of the butterfly crackers! We ran out earlier today." And then she sashayed off, blissfully unaware of her role in the ensuing fracas.

"Drew, they're out of butterfly crackers," I said cheerfully. (you'd think I'd know better, right?) "Have one of these round crackers instead."

Suspiciously, Drew took the proffered cracker in his hand, inspected it closely front and back, and then hurled it to the floor.

"No, Mama. No. No dat cacker. Want laller-fie cacker."

"Drew, butterfly crackers are all gone," said Charles. "Eat another kind."

As Drew began to grab anything within reach and chuck it to the floor, we sensed danger, and began attempting to appease him with various shapes and sizes of crackers, as well as with sips of milk, toy cars, crayons and the promise of a zillion-million dollars if he'd just stop crying and let us enjoy dinner together.

But alas, the damage was done. The storm broke with a great caterwaul over our heads and we, scrambling for cover, uttered our final words to the waitress...."We'll be taking our order to-go, please."

And that is what it's like to live with a two-year-old. All that stands between you and sobbing, screaming hysteria is one, small, butterfly cracker.