September 29, 2008
On Friday night, I drove up to this area for something (to be explained below) and passed my brother-in-law at an intersection to this area.
He sent me a text, teasing me to see if I was going out clubbing.
While other 25-year-olds were probably heading out for a night of partying until 3 a.m., I was running up to McDonald's for some sweet tea so I could stay awake for the presidential debate at home. Because, ya know, it lasted until the insane hour of 11 p.m.
That's when I realized I'm old.
Old in spirit because I've never cared about bars and clubs. Old in body because my bed starts whispering sweet nothings to me around 8:30 p.m.
At least I'm not wearing Mom Jeans. Yet.
September 28, 2008
his version of a realistic cooking show
the differences between men and women
birds and golf
September 25, 2008
I signed up for Twitter yesterday. It's being hailed as the next new thing (ya know, like two years ago) and since I'm so trendy, I felt compelled. However, it already has three strikes against it:
- It limited the number of characters I could have in my username so I'm "heartgonewalkin." This name conjures up images of me wearing spurs and carrying a lasso which, I assure you, is not the case.
- I seriously have no idea how to use it. Or why I would want to.
- One of my college roomies described it as an AIM away-message bonanza. Which leaves me still puzzled as to why I want this in my life.
Moving along to an equally gripping topic...
Another college roomie introduced me to Bring The Rain awhile ago. If you have five minutes (or if you're like me, you might need more because you'll get mesmerized by the wonderful sarcastic writing and lose all sense of time), you must read yesterday's post.
I can so relate to watching people buy sand at Pottery Barn. But I kinda want to buy those sticks.
September 24, 2008
This summer holds such sweet memories and good times.
Like Madeline's first birthday, which was more fun, emotional and special than I anticipated. (If I can dare offer one "I know you didn't ask for it but here it is" piece of advice, it's this: if you are planning a big first birthday bash, plan for special family time on your child's birthday as well. We had so much fun celebrating her birthday with our large family but I'll always cherish the memories on her actual birthday with just Joe, Madeline and me.)
Or how hard she cried when she got her first injury, a goose-egg after she fell down the stairs. And that I cried with her.
How everyone told me I should dread her walking but they forgot to mention how sweet it would be to hold her hand.
I'll never forget her look of sheer excitement when she realized I understood her for the first time after she pointed to a fish and said "ish!" And how the talking hasn't stopped since then.
Or the night she christened our floors with its first poop.
Or all the afternoons she and I read books side-by-side on our porch swing and how my heart would actually hurt with the realization that she's growing up.
Like all the memories we have of reading her first favorite book together, "How Does a Dinosaur Go to School." We've renewed it NINE whopping times from the library. Please don't request it or I'll have to actually buy her a copy.
How she never was interested in watching the TV until the Olympics. And how I laughed behind her back as she imitated the gymnasts by gracefully extending and twirling her arms and legs.
Or how funny it was to watch her vehemently hate sand. And then love it.
Or watching her utter joy at chasing bubbles around the backyard.
To me, it's sad that she will never remember these moments. The million trips to the park. The visits from grandparents. The snuggling at dusk.
But I'll remember them and tell her about this summer when she's older. And I'll let her know she exceeded my expectations of being a mom during summertime.
September 23, 2008
Joe e-mailed this story to me and asked if I was driving any buses recently. (For the record, it wasn't me.)
School Bus Crashes Into House After Sleeping Student
The Charlotte Observer reported Wednesday the 15-year-old girl had fallen asleep and missed her drop-off at the Northwest School of the Arts. The driver was in a neighborhood on her way to pick up students for another bus route when she saw the teenager wake up.
The driver lost control, hit a curb and plowed into the house.
The 81-year-old woman inside the nearly destroyed house, the driver and the student weren't seriously injured.
Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools officials said the driver, whose name hasn't been released, has been suspended with pay after failing to confirm all students had gotten off the bus.
September 22, 2008
She already knew about lips and mouth so it felt counterproductive to point to my mouth and declare, "This is a smile!"
So I resorted to an exaggerated smile every time I said it. I would cheese a huge grin, wrinkle my nose, squint my eyes and say, "Smile! Eeeee."
(I'm not sure why but saying "Eeeee" seemed like the appropriate sound effect for smiling.)
Anyways, the point of the story is... she got it! She now knows what to do when we ask her to smile.
It comes out like this:
It's a smile that scares strangers but I think it's darling. Especially since she says, "Eeeeee" every time she smiles.
Also, seeing this picture reminded me of most of our wedding pictures. I was a little too enthused that day and wrinkled my nose and squinted my eyes for most of the shots.
Like mother, like daughter.
September 19, 2008
Yup, I successfully gift-wrapped "In Your Face!" bragging rights, tied it with the ribbon of my dignity and handed it to him on a silver platter. Darn.
We still operate on kindergarten playground rules in our household so there will be a never-ending succession of victory dances and trash talk after this one.
I bet I'll be rocking out fantastic blue hair at 80 years old when my great-grandchild runs up and says, "Grandpa wants me to ask you: what's the most logical place for the TV remote?" And Joe will be leaning on his walker, smirking.
To answer everyone's question about why in the world I would ever place the remote on the TV:
It's not a question of laziness. Trust me, I am the reigning Midwest champion of Couch Laziness. (Why else would I watch Hole in the Wall??) But if you always put it on the TV, then a sincerely lazy person (moi) will always grab the remote before they sit down. It becomes a habit.
And I don't like it on our end tables because it becomes clutter. As my friend Janna stated, "I'll put it on my end table when a remote can be disguised as a lampshade or picture frame."
Although, I an now open to maybe, just maybe putting it in the drawer of our end table after that was mentioned. Something to ponder...
Anyways, this experiment really showed me
It's one of those topics you need to discuss when you start living with someone else. Other topics include but are not limited to: big utensils in the drawer or in a container on the counter, Colgate or Crest, reading books or watching TV in bed, cooking corn in water, etc.
(For the record: in a container, Crest, reading and no.)
Thanks for participating. Even though I now know many of you think I'm crazy, I really loved reading your responses, even the heated ones.
September 17, 2008
Resting places for the TV remotes.
Let me explain. Every time I straighten the house, I put our TV remotes in the same places. I've been doing this for three years. However, Joe says my remote resting places are not logical and so he's continually asking, "Where's the remote?" He's been doing this for three years.
Last night, we had our discussion yet again (during which I may or may not have declared that every living person would agree with me) and decided we need to move toward reconciliation by putting aside our differences and behaving in a mature fashion.
We decided to put it on my blog and get your input.
So I hate begging for comments and I promise you'll never see this again, but can you please let me know
AND if you know a man who could cast his vote too, that would be tremendous. Joe says this poll will be one-sided since primarily women read my blog, even though I say this is about logic and not gender. And I know all my readers are highly logical, smart people. Right? So here we go:
Where is this most logical place to keep a TV remote after straightening up the house?
On the couch or side table (living room) or on the nightstand (bedroom)
On top of the TV
I'll reveal the results and whose answer is whose on Friday. Now vote!
CLARIFICATION: In no way, shape or form is this debate causing actual harm in our marriage. We have no deal breakers. As Savage Garden circa 1997 would say, we're still truly, madly, deeply in love and always will be. The end.
September 16, 2008
I gave up on Feb. 15. (Note to self: set goals higher.)
So I decided to start again. I dusted off my Pilates video but found it's a little different with a toddler.
PILATES VIDEO: Now that you are sitting perfectly upright, gently roll backwards into a lying position. Envision your back as a string of pearls as you carefully lower it to the floor.
KATIE: Ugh! Ow! Madeline! Please don't sit on Mommy's tummy.
End result: Snapping upright to recover from having a 25-pound load of moving arms and legs dropped in my stomach and then falling backwards like a string of pearls dropped from a high tower and splattered across the ground.
PILATES VIDEO: Gently roll up and over your knees so that your chest nearly rests above your knees and stretch your fingers past your toes.
KATIE: Madeline, please don't climb on my back. It's not time for a piggy-back ride. Ow! Let go of my hair!
End result: Once Madeline was pulled off my back, I looked more like a "greater than" symbol than someone sweetly folding themselves in half.
PILATES VIDEO: Lying on your back, stretch one leg straight above and circle your leg. Pretend to draw a circle no wider than your shoulders in the air.
KATIE: Madeline! Don't grab Mommy's leg! No, don't climb between my legs. Ow! Sit next to me, not on top of me.
End result: My leg was never straight, much less circling. Apparently, the sight of one leg in the air is ridiculously funny and had to be pulled down. Repeatedly.
That's about as far as I got but I'm determined to try again tomorrow.
Only this time I'll accept the fact that Pilates makes me look like a human jungle gym. So she'll be in her high chair. Strapped down. Surrounded by mountains of Cheerios. Wish me luck.
September 12, 2008
There's a good chance it could become the most cited example of why some people say nothing good is on TV anymore.
The contestants are dressed in skin-tight metallic jumpsuits and have to contort themselves to fit through holes in a foam wall which, once unveiled, quickly speeds toward them. If they don't fit (and I don't think any of them did), they fall backwards into a pool where studly guys and bikini babes who are cast as lifeguards glance around fearfully as they realized they're supposed to help this poor foil-wrapped person who has just been smacked. Also, the host is dressed in a tux and is more melodramatic than Amy Poehler on crack.
But on the bright side, I don't think it had a British judge so that's one positive distinction from every other show.
I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard. Well, maybe I do.
Please find this clip as funny as I do. I'm still laughing at it.
September 11, 2008
As I pulled off the pictures from a trip to the park, I realized they were image after image of Joe helping, guiding and playing with Madeline. They pretty much melted my heart. I am so thankful to have a husband who takes his role as a father seriously by frequently not being serious.
During the day with me, she does incredibly exciting activities like reading "Boundaries in Marriage."
When Joe comes home, it's time to kick around the soccer ball, pick fresh tomatoes from our garden and ride around on Daddy's back.
Going to the park was no exception. I snapped pictures on the sidelines while Joe jumped on the equipment with her and showed her all the park had to offer.
And I loved watching it.
September 10, 2008
September 9, 2008
So I wasn't surprised when she picked up a book to read while I was folding laundry yesterday. But then I realized which book it was: Boundaries in Marriage.
She leaned against the couch and "read" it for 15 minutes. I'm not exaggerating. It's not even like she stares at the cover. She actually browses the pages.
Finally, I had to snap a picture. Call me crazy, but I don't think the authors wrote it for someone to read while wearing a onesie.
This girl cracks me up and scares me at the same time. She is constantly watching me for cues on how to act, behave and participate in this life. Parenting really is an amazing, hilarious and frightening adventure.
September 6, 2008
Just allowing her take all of the books off the shelf because it guarantees me at least 15 minutes. And since I probably couldn't stop it if I tried, I might as well clean the kitchen while she's at it.
Anyways, I organized the junk in our house yesterday. Our kitchen junk drawer, nightstand drawers and Madeline's toys were in desperate need of attention. It felt good but it meant I needed Madeline to be entertained by something other than messing with all the piles of paper, batteries, hair clips, coins and other random items.
But she was drawn to the coin pile like a moth to a flame. She was so happy to carry coins one at a time from the living room to "somewhere" in the house and I let her. (She was happy for over an hour. Need I say more?)
After a little while, I realized I should discover her stash and she led me to our bedroom.
September 4, 2008
- Hearing "ish!" 37 times before lunch. (M's first word - fish)
- September means we're one month closer to the end of political ads.
- Four walls and a roof. And it's cute, too.
- Eating out tonight = not cooking dinner.
September 3, 2008
For nearly a week, I couldn't figure out why Joe kept turning on a certain light before he left for work. When I finally asked him about it, he said it wasn't him.
This also explains why the light would turn on throughout the day, even though I kept turning it off. I was relieved to find out I'm not an insane person, just a slow mom.
And it's not just the light. Doors now open and shut on their own, often followed by the bewildered cry of a trapped child. Keys disappear and turn up under couches or in toy baskets. Voices call out to me from my phone, "Katie, KATIE! DID YOU MEAN TO CALL ME?"
And my personal favorite: DVDs randomly play at incredibly obnoxious volume levels throughout the day. There have been numerous occasions that I've banged my knee into the table to grab my child and am about to push the second "1" in 9-1-1 before I realized it's just Mr. Darcy coming through my speakers and not someone breaking in.
Unless it's someone who is breaking into my house just to declare that he loves me and he is vexed. And that my family is in total want of propriety.
One thing is for certain: life will never be the same. We are a family of three.