Monday, March 31, 2008

Lucky Lady

I have been wanting a small vacuum for some time now. When we came across the Swift Stick at the store and it was on sale for $20.00 I couldn't refuse. I knew it would work perfectly on my hardwood floors.
We brought it home, the hubby put it together and we tried it out. It was awesome! It picks up everything. So much better than the crummy old broom I had been using. It will be great for all of those dust bunnies hiding out in my bedroom. I was very happy.

The hubby was laughing at my giddiness over a vacuum and joked, "I am so glad you like your early birthday present, honey!"

Joey picked up on that right away and says, "Oh mumma, aren't you so lucky that daddy got you a vacuum for your birthday? He is just so good to you! Can you believe how lucky you are? I can't believe daddy was so nice to get you a VACUUM for your BIRTHDAY!"

Todd was trying so hard not to laugh that he had tears streaming down his face.
I, on the other hand, had to clear up the misunderstanding.

"Honey, daddy was kidding. This isn't my birthday present. Daddy is smarter than that. And just so you know you should never get a woman a cleaning device for her birthday unless she specifically asks for one." I clarified.

"Why not?" Joey said.

"Well, because it implies that the woman is the one who should be doing all the cleaning in the house, and really it is everyone's job to keep the house clean. Right?" I answered him.

"Yeah. So, can I use it then?" the smart little fart asked.

"When you get a little bigger, okay?" I said.

"Okay!" he said, clearly excited at the prospect of cleaning with the vacuum all by himself. If only his enthusiasm for cleaning would last through his teen years. Ha! I know better than to hope.

And, now that I think about it, perhaps I should have told him that exercise equipment and cooking gadgets are also prohibited gifts for women unless requested. The boy has so much to learn about women. Luckily, we have time. Lots, and lots of time.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Spring, Is That You?

Shall I dare to dream?
7 to 10 predicted-
Not one snowflake fell
****
Hooray and Yippee
Maybe Spring really is here
Crossing my fingers
****
The signs are all here
Melting snow piles and blue skies
A morning dove, too
****
Can't wait to go out
The boys dressed in spring jackets
No mittens or scarves
****
Happiness awaits
With promise of warm weather
I'll share it with you.



Wednesday, March 26, 2008

WW- The First Robin Of The Year

A sign of spring?
Another 7-10 inches of snow is predicted for tomorrow.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Ugh

I was hoping this weekend would be filled with newly thawed grass for Easter egg hunts. Presents, cake, friends, and fun for Tommy's birthday. The quiet beauty of the Easter morning mass. And maybe even some relaxing family time. Instead it was a weekend of spring snow storms, puke buckets, snot-filled kleenex, feverish foreheads, and cancelled birthday parties.
~sigh~
Now, on this sunny Monday morning, I am left as an over-tired, crabby mess with little to no patience for my poor bored and recuperating boys. The fact that I saw a beautiful robin in the tree in our front yard on Thursday mocks my silly superstitious mind. Alas, spring is still not here despite what the calender says.
So there. I have no cheer to spread, or tales of happy children prancing about finding beautifully colored eggs on a soft, green lawn. Only foggy memories of sleepless nights on the futon catching my birthday boy's digested pizza, and a strong desire to delete this post before it is even published.
I do apologize.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Happy Easter


I am the resurrection, and the life. (John 11:25)

Friday, March 21, 2008

Birthday Boy

Little Goldenbear,
So full of sweetness and love.
Today you are three!
******
My dear, sweetest golden bear, Tommy. Today is your 3rd birthday, and I am so excited for you. Excited that you get to have a day that is all about you. A day for everyone to lavish you with the attention and praise you deserve. To celebrate your entrance into this world as the blessed, glorious gift that it was and is. But I am also excited for you because I think your 3rd year will bring many special gifts to you. Soon you will start preschool and you will begin to see you are a wonderful, amazing boy all on your own. You will begin to discover all the things I already know and love about you. You will make friends that are all your own. You will discover talents that are all your own.

Perhaps you will find out what a humorous little man you are. How you can make people laugh with little effort. Maybe you will discover what an athletic boy you are. Quick and agile and very competitive. Or you might even see what a tender heart you are. How quick you are to comfort someone and offer encouraging words and your fabulous hugs. You’ll see how kind you are by how quickly you will make friends. You will discover what a wonderful person you are, and I can’t wait to watch.

You are a precious gift to me, Thomas. You walk into the room and light up every corner. You smile at me and no matter what kind of mood I am in I can’t help but smile back. You fit perfectly on my lap and wrap your little fingers around my hand. You lean your face toward me, blue eyes shining, and you melt me with your smile and fill me with love. I lock that image of us in my heart as one of my most precious. You are goodness personified. You are the realization of a dream I never even knew I had. You are my compassionate buddy. My snuggler. My nature and animal lover. My energetic, rough and tumbler sports fan. My dramatic and emotional boy. You are the child after my own heart.

I love you, Thomas. I am so proud of the boy you are. Always remember that no matter how big you get you will always be my Goldenbear, my baby.

Happy Birthday, Thomas!






















Thursday, March 20, 2008

Shape Up, Woman!

It has been almost three months since I last ran. I decided it was not wise to run on icy sidewalks/roads when I slipped on the ice and almost broke my butt at the end of December. I kept telling myself that I would run as soon as the weather warmed up a bit, and the ice melted. So I waited for the temps to rise. And I waited. And then I waited some more. Needless to say it didn't happen. The sidewalks and roads remained ice covered for longer than I'd like to recall. And while I waited in vain the K-Lo bootie got bigger. And bigger. And Bigger. Something had to be done.

To be honest the weather should not have been an excuse. I have a fabulous treadmill just waiting to be used in the basement. The problem? Motivation, of course. The treadmill is in a yucky, dark part of the basement surrounded by storage boxes and facing a wall. It is just not the same as running outside in fresh air with beautiful Lake Michigan as my backdrop. Basically, when I run on the treadmill I am staring at this for 30-40 minutes:
This view does nothing to help me pass the time as I struggle, wheeze, and drag myself to a healthier me. Add this to the fact that I have to squeeze my runs (and shower) into a 1 hour window of time when all of the boys are napping, and you can see why I just happened to miss out on this fun for the past three months.
Now that the weather has been warming up a smidgen I have gotten the push I need to get back on the horse, so to speak. Yesterday I decided enough was enough and I took the first step to getting back in shape. It was not easy. I looked like this after the 25 minute run:

That is me trying to suck some air out of the little fan on the treadmill. Sure the fan was clouded with all the dust from the construction project 2 months ago, but I didn't care. At this point, air is air, and I needed some.
Even though the whole run was a struggle I was proud of myself for doing it. The first step is always the hardest. And it may take a little time, but it will get easier. So I'm telling myself.
Of course, getting out of bed this morning may have been the worst part. My body aches as though I have never exercised a day in my life. I had to roll off of my bed in order to get out. Walking down the stairs holding Ben took enormous amounts of concentration. Even my neck muscles are sore. Who knew you used your neck to run? Hmphf. As sore as I am it feels good. A good kind of sore, if there is a good kind of sore, because I took the first step to getting back to me. And, I've missed me.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

WW- Egg-quisite!




My mom hand-painted these eggs when I was a little girl, and every year they come out of hiding a few weeks before Easter. I always look forward to seeing them again. It just doesn't feel like Easter until these delicate baskets are carefully placed around my mom's house.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Flattery Will Get You Everywhere

Tommy: "Mom, can we play wit Play-Doh?"
Me: "In just a little bit, honey. I have to feed Benny first."
Tommy: "You are da beautifulest mumma eber!"
Me: "Aww. Thanks, honey. That is very nice of you."
Tommy: "And, I lub you."
Me: "I love you."
Tommy: "An I like you, too."
Me: "And, I like you."
Tommy: "Now can we play wit Play-Doh?"

The Schmoozer

Monday, March 17, 2008

Meme Monday

You asked for it. I didn't want to do it, but you left me no choice. You crazy people out there keep tagging me for memes. I have done so many of these flipping things that I am running out of things to say about me. TRUST ME. I am not that interesting. But, I will oblige and play along. Although, I AM NOT following the rules. I will not tag anyone else and I will not tell you the RULES of each meme. Why? Because I don't like being told what to do.

Jamie from Choosing My Own tagged me for the purse meme. This is what is in my purse. Most of it I knew about, but there were some surprises.

I wore my brown boots last night so I wore this brown purse to go with them.

In the first zipper section we have some photos, coupons, receipts, my wallet, and my checkbook. No big surprises there.
The second zipper section we have my cell phone, hand sanitizer, hand lotion, makeup, contact lens case, crossed off grocery list, Elmo band-aid, nail file, nail clipper, a pill case (Excedrin, Ibuprofin, and allergy pills), dental floss, gum, pens, a stain remover, pads, a tampon, and for some reason tortilla chip crumbs (????). Okay.
Middle zipper has my sunglasses, a hair clip, and a hair band. I don't know how my hat fit in there.
This is where it gets weird. I mean, I love sausage sticks as much as the next person, but why are they in my purse? And, how did they fit in there?And, a gallon of milk? I must have been thirsty from the sausage sticks. No wonder why my purse always feels so freaking heavy.
Yes, odd indeed. Well, who doesn't love oranges in all their sweet, juicy glory? Can you blame me?
So there you have it. The contents of my purse. I guess my purse is bigger than it looks. Note to self: Must remember to clean purse out more often.


Next, I was tagged by Krissy at Firecracker Mom and Elaine at The Miss Elaine-ous Life for the middle name meme. My middle name is Mary. Yes, I know. I'm very Catholic.
M- Met hubby on the 4th of July (one of my FAVORITE holidays) at a party. I, literally, saw fireworks the day we met.
A- Awoke way too early this morning.
R- Reading "Love in the Time of Cholera" right now.
Y- Yodels in the shower. Not really, but I couldn't think of anything else that starts with a Y.

Keeping it moving now...
I was tagged by Chrissy at Tales From The Carpool Lane for the 6 quirky things meme.

1- When we were first married I refused to pee in front of my hubby. I would not do it. I would hold my pee until my bladder exploded if I had to, but I would not relieve myself in front of him. No way. Then, when I was in labor with Joey, Todd watched me crap all over the delivery room table and a tiny human being squirted out of my body. After that I figured, "Oh, what the hell."

2- I am coo-coo for cocoa puffs when it comes to setting an alarm clock. It really used to freak Todd out. I had two alarm clocks. One was a regular, plug in the wall, alarm clock with red numbers. I would set that clock for approximately 9 minutes before I had to get up. Then, I would flip the alarm setting to ON, and check the time again. Then check it again. And again. And then again. Check. Check. Check-check-check. Then I would set another battery operated alarm clock across the room to go off approximately a half an hour after the first alarm clock sounded. I would turn the alarm setting to ON, and check the time again. Then check it again. And again. And then again. Check. Check. Check-a-dee, check, check, check. Finally, I would crawl into bed and lay my head on my pillow. My arm would reach out from under the covers and check, check, check-check-check again. It drove Todd nuts. Obviously. But ask me how many times I was late for work. NEVER. So there! Luckily, I don't have to set an alarm clock anymore, and Todd won't even allow the clock on my side of the bed.
3- One of my favorite words is tomfoolery. HAHAHA!!!! It always makes me laugh.
4- My least favorite word is moist. It just sounds disgusting. Ugh.
5- I love writing, but my spelling is atrocious, and my punctuation is all over the place. Sometimes, I am so far off on the spelling of a word that spell check doesn't even know what I am trying to write. It's pretty bad. I'm sure you have also noticed that I use far too many exclamation marks. I use them all the time. Commas, too. It used to drive my writing professor crazy. I like to add commas where I want a pause in the sentence. I know this is incorrect, and unnecessary, but I want people to read my writing the way I hear it in my head. I'm sure I probably drive all of you writing teachers mad. Sorry.
6- I know I have already written about the fact that I eat all veggies raw but none of them cooked. I know that is strange. But even stranger is the fact that I will not eat cooked corn, but I love, love, LOVE corn on the cob. I know, I know. Cu-CKOO!!
Yep. That settles it. I'm officially nuts-o. Thanks, Chrissy.
Alrighty. Last but not least the Crazy Eights meme passed to me by Wright at I Gotta Theory About That.
8 Things I'm Passionate About
1- God
2- My family
3- My friends
4- Running
5- Singing
6- Dancing
7- Having Fun
8- Finishing this post
8 Things I Want To Do Before I Die
1- Take 3 months to travel with my hubby from the tippy-top of Italy to the bottom.
2- Have another baby.
3- Go back to school.
4- Learn to play piano.
5- Have Todd and the boys see me in a musical.
6- Watch my children grow up.
7- Watch my grandchildren grow up.
8- Finish this post.
8 Things I Often Say
1- "Ben, don't touch."
2- "Joey, don't hit."
3- "Tommy, stop whining."
4- "Say, 'excuse me'."
5- "If you sleep like good boys we can..."
6- "Hurry up, we're gonna be late!"
7- "No."
8- "I love you."
8 Books I've Recently Read
1- Currently reading "Love In The Time Of Cholera"
2- Shopaholic and Sister
3- Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child
4- Amazing Grace for Moms
5- Action Rescue Vehicles!
6- Little Earthquakes
7- Belly Laughs and Baby Laughs
8- Many, many books having to do with trucks, dinosaurs, and/or animals.
8 Song I Could Listen To Over And Over
1- Somewhere Over the Rainbow- Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
2- With You- Chris Brown
3- Stronger- Kayne West
4- Loose My Mind (Up In Here)- DMX
5- You Don't Know Me- Michael Buble
6- By Your Side- Sade
7- Whenever You Call- Mariah Carey & Brian McKnight
8- Smile- Nat King Cole
AND SO MANY MORE!
8 Qualities That I Look For In My Friends
1- Sense of humor
2- Fun
3- Intelligent
4- Kind
5- Loyal
6- Trustworthy
7- Honest
8- Real
That's it? I'm done???? Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!!
Is anyone still here? Are you still reading? If so, I will have a little present for you for staying with me through this whole flipping meme post. A little bit of fun for St. Patty's Day that was passed to me by Jewelgirl. Now I'm passing it to you. I hope you get lucky. Errr. I mean. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Friday, March 14, 2008

Feeling Better

I feel much better
Thank you for letting me rant
I feel much lighter
*****
Mad post yesterday
Helped remind me of all the
Lovely comments too
*****
Most people are kind
Lavishing praise on my boys
Compliments and love
*****
Must ignore the bad
That are outnumbered by good
And by my own thoughts


Just wanted to say "thank you" again to everyone for letting me rant yesterday. It was good to get that out of my head. Like I said yesterday I really don't care what crazy strangers say to me, but when it is said in front of my boys I get angry. Don't mess with me boys!
Ranting like that also reminded me that those rude comments are few and far between compared to the positive comments the boys usually receive for being so well behaved, polite, cute, and sweet. I hope their ears are open to the good comments and closed to the bad comments.

*******************************************************

Moving on...

I have been in a much better mood this past week. My funky-depression-like state has been lifted. I feel happy, light, and cheery. It is so nice. I don't know if it is because of the increased sunlight thanks to Daylight Savings Time or if I was just able to snap myself out of it. Whatever the reason, I'm feeling good.
The weather has been like a heatwave, hovering around 40 degrees and sunny, all week. The mounds and mounds of snow are slowly melting and I can even see a bit of brown snow peeking out from beneath the snow piles right next to the sidewalk. Heaven! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Soon we will be spending our days taking walks outside, going to the park, kicking a ball around the backyard, and planting flowers. I am so excited!
And on an even happier note...

My sister-in-law and her family just picked up their new baby yesterday! I am so excited for them I can hardly stand it. He is 8 months old and absolutely adorable. They have been praying for this baby for years. They have a sweet, fantastic, gorgeous 7 year old daughter, Cassie, and have been trying to add to their family since she was a toddler. They suffered through miscarriage after miscarriage. After fertility treatments repeatedly failed, they finally turned to adoption a few years ago. They filed all of the paperwork. Did the house studies. Went through the interviews. And were finally chosen by a birth mother, only to have their hearts broken.
Then came Wyatt. A short time ago they received a call that another mother had chosen them. They cautiously met the baby and fell in love. All the meetings went perfectly. Everything fell into place. The only condition the birth parents had was that they wanted the baby to be named Wyatt. Done. My sis-in-law and her hubby tried to continue cautiously (they didn't even tell Cassie that she might be getting a brother for fear it would not work out again), but their hearts fell more and more in love with Wyatt every time they saw him. Each night as they tucked Cassie into bed they would listen to her prayers asking God for a baby brother or sister, and exchange hopeful looks.
Yesterday the birth mother terminated her rights and my sis-in-law and her family went to pick up their new baby. I am overwhelmed with happiness for them and have tears in my eyes even now as I write this. They picked Cassie up from school, handed her a "Big Sister" bracelet, and told her they were on their way to pick up her baby brother. Her excitement was immeasurable.
They had an actual ceremony where the birth mother physically hands the baby over to the adoptive parents. I cannot imagine being that birth mother and what it must be like to terminate your rights to your child and then hand him to his new family. I cannot fathom the grief. Every time I think about it I cry. But I am thankful. So very thankful that she was able to show such an amazingly selfless act of love for this child. Because this child will be loved and cared for by a wonderful family, and a warm and kind extended family. This child is blessed. And I want that birth mother and father to know that we all think they are amazing. Wise beyond their years. Loving beyond comprehension. And we thank them. From the bottom of our hearts, we thank them. And I pray for them too. I pray that their hearts be comforted in what I can only imagine must be an extraordinarily painful time.
And just one more thing...
I was just about to post this and I received a call that my mom was taken to the hospital. She had extreme shortness of breath, horrible chest pain, and then she passed out. Of course, all of my brothers and my sister and I ran over to the hospital right away. The doctors ran tests and it turns out she has Pericarditis (inflammation of the heart). A much better diagnosis than the heart attack we thought she was having. However, with all of her other medical problems (Multiple Myeloma) it is worrisome to me. She has already been released from the hospital and is at home. So, whew! That's good. Still, if you could say a little prayer for her that would be fabulous.
Thank you!

Thursday, March 13, 2008

A Ranting I Go

I know I've mentioned this before, but I have to bring it up again because it keeps happening. And it really bothers me. The comments. The completely brainless, hurtful, ignorant comments. They just keep coming. And I really don't get it. Why do people feel they can say whatever pops into their heads? And why do they feel they can ask a stranger a personal question? What is that?

This time the offenders were at Wal-mart (go figure), but it could have just as easily been at the grocery store, at a restaurant, or at a park.

After my glasses collapsed in my hands yesterday I realized I had to bite the bullet and buy a new pair. I usually avoid Wal-mart like the plague, but I am just too cheap to buy glasses anywhere else, so off we went.
The ever-so-helpful (can you hear the sarcasm in that?) employee in the optical center spent approximately 10 minutes watching me try on glasses and talking to my boys when she says, "Wow. Three boys. Are they all yours?"

"Nope. Just found them outside. Lucky, huh?" I wanted to say. But I didn't.

"Um. Yeah. They're all mine." I said with a snarky laugh. I mean, she was standing right next to me listening to them calling me mom this whole time. We were talking about their birthdays, favorite colors, and cartoons. Hell-O!??!

"Are you gonna try for a girl?" she asks me, right in front of my gorgeous boys.

"No. I might try for another baby, but it is up to God to decide if we get a boy or a girl, and I'll take what I can get." I said giving her the evil eye.

I couldn't help it. I didn't want to sound bitchy and mean, but these comments make me crazy! I can't believe people are willing to ask strangers these questions. I think my response finally gave her a clue to shut her yap and ring up my flipping glasses before I really lost it, because after that she didn't say much.

We left the optical center and wandered around the Easter aisles as a treat to the boys for being so well behaved. When we were done sniffing all the Easter chocolates and fingering all the stuffed animals I remembered that were out of oranges and milk. I quickly grabbed what we needed and began looking for an open register. I wheeled the cart around the corner of the check-out and approached the cashier.

The first thing out of her loud mouth was, "Oh My God! Look at ALL THOSE KIDS!"

I furrowed my brow, looked behind me to see if she was talking to someone else and then said, "Are you serious? There are three. Not twelve! How is three a lot of kids?"

She says, "Well, it is three more than I have!"

I just rolled my eyes. I kept my head down and my mouth shut, and got out of there as fast as I could.

Whatever. I am so done with these comments. I get them all the time. You'd think I would be used to it by now, but I'm not. It catches me off guard every time. I always think of smart, sassy comebacks after I've calmed down, but in the moment I just stand there wide-eyed with my jaw on the floor. Shocked at people's thoughtlessness.

I think one of the worst ones was when my hubby and I stopped at a restaurant with our boys on the way up north to the cabin. We walked past the bar and heard a man bellow to his wife loudly enough for the whole room to hear, "Look at those blond kids. Those two have dark hair. I wonder whose kids those are 'cause they sure aren't THEIRS!"

I wanted to run over and scream at him. I wanted to tell him that even though I gave birth to my kids sometimes people adopt children, and maybe the children don't look like them, but those children are just as much theirs as if the same blood ran in their veins. I wanted to tell him how hurtful his comment could be to someone who is worried about what ignorant arses like him think. I wanted to rush home, grab the pics of me as a baby, and show him my blond curly hair. I wanted to tell him that this dark brown hair is not my natural color. I wanted to smack him in his freaking face. I wanted to, but of course, I didn't. Because it wouldn't have done any good.

People just don't think.

Just this month I've heard:

"You're crazy!"- for having 3 boys fabulous boys.

"It looks like your pushing a freaking bus."- said in an under-the-breath, evil-eyed way when I was pushing my well behaved boys through the grocery store in their car cart.

"You need a hobby." Nice. I don't even know what to say to this one.

"You want more kids?" If you knew my kids you would want more of them too.

"Are you gonna keep trying until you get a girl?" Why, are they better?
Sigh.

I know I shouldn't let these ridiculous comments bother me, but they do. My boys have ears. They hear these comments too. Are they supposed to think that I am crazy for having them? Or that maybe I would rather have girls? How are these comments supposed to make them feel?

Does anyone else have this same problem? What is the most annoying comment you get? And what do you do? What do you say? Do you just smile politely and move on, or do you send them a zinger? Because truthfully, I wouldn't mind handing out a few zings every now and again. If I had a few good ones. Do you have some zingers for me?

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

WW- Rub-A-Dub Dub

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker...

Monday, March 10, 2008

A New Page

I have a hand-written journal. A diary, some may call it. I've had one after another since the third grade when I received my very first diary as a birthday present. I loved that diary. It had green stripes and pink flowers on the cover in a lovely soft fabric. It even had a little gold lock on the side so I could write about all of my third grade crushes without worrying my three older brothers would find it and tease the daylights out of me. I found out years later, after loosing the keys, that a good strong tug and that diary would spill it's guts to anyone who could read. I'm glad I didn't know that in third grade.

My journal now is just a book with plain, unlined, creme pages. No fancy and unreliable lock on the side. No green stripes. No flowers. Still, I treasure it the same way I did that first diary. And today is a strange day. I'm done with my journal. There are no more pages left. And while I am fully prepared to go out and buy another one as I have done many times over the years, this time it is different.

I've had this journal for almost 7 years now. A long time to have a journal, I agree. I received it as a bridal shower gift from a friend of mine and started writing in it that first year of marriage. No, I didn't write in it every day. There were times when I forgot to write in it for an entire month. Still, it has captured so many milestones. So many major events are tenderly written about in it's pages. My elation at being a newlywed. My nervous anticipation when we bought our first home. My even bigger thrill of being pregnant for the first time. It felt the wrath of my pregnant hormones and soaked up my postpartum tears. It has been with me through all of my pregnancies and the first year of each of my boys. It learned about my mother's diagnosis with cancer when I did. It felt my broken heart over my dad's struggle with Alzheimer's. It has been with me a long time. And it is strange to put it aside, finished, and move on to another one.

And I wonder, what will this next journal will see? Another baby? I hope so. A new house? Perhaps. I try to envision my life another 6 years from now, and I have no idea where I will be. Who I will be. Will the next 6 years bring as much change as the past 6 years have? I really don't know. Whatever the changes, I hope the new journal will see as many blessings, good times, and warm memories as this journal has. I hope the good times will outweigh the bad times. And I hope I will be as happy as I am today.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Hopeful

It has been the worst
The winter that never ends
Record temps and snow
*****
But we're almost there
It's only a few more weeks
Until Salvation
*****
Spring is coming soon
Grass will sprout and leaves will grow
Sun will shine again
*****
Oh how wonderful
To take a walk to the park
And swing in the breeze
*****
Spring, won't you hurry?
Breath life into us once more
Let us feel your warmth




Thursday, March 6, 2008

I'm So Loved

My mom called me to check on my progress with this nasty cold. Through a raspy voice I told her how hard I was taking the announcement of Favre's retirement. So hard, in fact, that it even surprised me. After all no one died. This is just football we are talking about. Mom laughed and suggested that perhaps my reaction to the news is more about this crazy funk-like depression I've been in the past few weeks, and not really about the announcement.

I agreed that, yes, that did make sense. I have been a bit depressed lately. And, as we all know, a box of Girl Scout Cookies will only get you so far. There is only so much freezing cold weather, never-ending snowstorms, gray-gloomey days, and family illnesses one can take.

So I said, "I suppose you're right. I have been feeling a bit depressed lately. Every time it snows I feel like chucking myself out of a window."

Without missing a beat Tommy says, "How 'bout dat window, mom?"

Words To Live By

Be grateful for each new day.
A new day that you have never lived before.
Twenty-four new, fresh, unexplored hours to use usefully and profitably.
We can squander, neglect, or use them.
Life will be richer or poorer by the way we use today.
Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could;
some blunders and absurdities crept in;
forget them as soon as you can.
Tomorrow is a new day.
You shall begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be
encumbered with your old nonsense.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson