Thursday, September 29, 2011

It's Fall y'all!

Morgan and I spent yesterday (my day off -- something I'm still not quite used to having) with my mom. It was the perfect fall afternoon! We went on a bike ride, first to a little park and then to the most adorable farmer's market I have ever seen, complete with baby cows, a gourd tunnel and a straw maze for the kiddos.

Here are some pictures from the day:



Yes, we all played on the slides and swings. Because I'm a cool mom like that. And I have a cool mom like that.


Morgan wanted to be sure someone was at the bottom to "catch" me.


At the farmer's market:

      



 











  
Thanks again, Mom! We had so much fun!

Oh! And for those of you who have never ridden a three-wheeled beach cruiser, I highly recommend adding it to your bucket list.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Shylee-isms, or "Ladies don't fart"

Shylee has always been quite a talker and has a history of saying some pretty funny things. I know I should be better about writing them down, so this post is (probably the first of many) dedicated to some of the funny things Shylee has said recently.

Me: What do you want to watch?
Shylee: The Incorrectables.
Me: Um... what?
Shylee: You know, The Incorrectables.
Me: I'm still not sure what you mean.
Shylee: You know, with the masks and they save the people.
(It wasn't until she actually showed me which movie she wanted that I realized she was talking about The Incredibles.)

After Adam told her that he wouldn't be able to fight all her battles for her, Shylee thought for a minute then sighed and said, very sadly, "And I guess Jenny-Mom can't fight them for me either, huh?"

To Morgan: "Ladies don't fart."

To herself, when she thought no one was listening: "Everybody likes it in my world. Oh look! I'm there right now... and it's BEAUTIFUL!"

Monday, September 19, 2011

Out of the ashes


Looking around me tonight, I feel an incredible sense of gratitude for the things I have. My rundown little house. My bed. A fridge with food in it. Clothes in my closet. My TV. Framed pictures on the wall. All of these are things I usually take for granted, but when I really take a minute to think about it, I realize how fortunate I am to have something as simple as my hand-me-down couch.

This morning I learned that a friend (and coworker) of mine lost her house to a fire over the weekend. The structure itself is still standing but as far as what was inside the house, it was a complete loss. The only possessions she currently has are the few things she had taken with her on a short weekend trip. Her furniture, her clothes, all of her belongings are gone and she is literally homeless.

I'll say it again, I'm SO THANKFUL  for the things I have.

What really stood out to me today is the kindness that people have shown. Things like furniture, clothing, and money have already been donated. Within a matter of hours, a substantial amount of money was pooled together to help her buy the basic things she needs to survive (she's not even aware of this yet). I'm told that someone is getting an apartment ready for her to move into while she gets back on her feet. All of these things came together and were made possible only through the kindness of others, some of whom don't even know my friend.

So even though it has been a very sad day and thinking of the long road she has ahead of her breaks my heart, I'm also glad that I got to witness firsthand something that I've always believed but need to be reminded of sometimes:

When given the opportunity to be good or kind or caring, people generally rise to the occasion.


Any thoughts, prayers or positive energy you could send
my friend's way would be greatly appreciated. 

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Role reversal

"What do you want for lunch?"

"Um, soup and grilled cheese sandwiches."

"Sounds good. What kind of soup?"

"Tomato."

"Ew! Tomato? Gross."

"Have you tried tomato soup before?"

"Yeah, lots of times. I don't like it."

"Well, maybe you should try it one more time."

"I don't wanna."

"Please, Jenny-Mom, do it for me."

"But Shylee, I DON'T LIKE TOMATO SOUP!"


She also makes me eat my vegetables before I can have dessert.

Monday, September 12, 2011

And so it begins

Morgan refused to sleep with me last night. As in: literally screamed at me when I tried to put her down in my bed. She doesn't normally sleep in our bed anymore but Adam was working a graveyard shift and I thought that the warmth of another person in my bed sounded nice. Morgan, however, felt differently and made it very clear that she would NOT be sleeping with me. Like, suck it up, Mom. You're a big girl.

And she's right. I'm no stranger to sleeping alone so I wasn't too put out by the fact that I'd be flying solo again. What bothered me is how adamantly she opposed the idea. Should this be happening so soon? Shouldn't she still jump at the chance to sleep in my bed? I mean it's pretty much a total party, what with the TV and the occasional cookie in bed and everything. (Shhh, don't tell Adam.)

I know it won't be long before she thinks I'm totally uncool and I'll have to follow her to school in my ratty pajamas with curlers in my hair and beg her to love me in front of her peers. (I don't use curlers, but I'd make an exception for something like that.) But I like to pretend that day is a long, long, very long way into the future -- that she'll want to hang out with me for many years to come. It's hard to believe I have very much time left when my two year old is looking me directly in the eyes and sternly saying, "No, Mama! Sleep in crib!"

Ouch. She might as well just rip my heart out right now and get it over with. No sense in waiting until puberty.

But then tonight she didn't want to leave my side. I could have made a much bigger dent in that mountain of dishes if I hadn't been holding her on my hip the whole time. But I just couldn't resist those big blue eyes and that sweet little voice saying, "Hold you me. Hold you me." And then at bedtime, after we said prayers, she crawled into my lap and wrapped her arms tightly around neck. Last night's rejection was completely forgotten and my heart turned to butter when she said, "Need you, Mama".

And just for that I promise that when I chase her to school carrying the sack lunch she left behind and then force her to kiss me goodbye in front of her friends, I will at least make sure I've brushed my teeth.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Wherein I go just a bit more insane

I haven't been sleeping well lately. I'm being totally honest and vulnerable when I say this so please try not to laugh at me. I think my house is haunted.

I'm not afraid of people breaking into my house with ill intentions nearly as much as I'm afraid of seeing/hearing/feeling/basically coming into any contact whatsoever with an unearthly presence. I know that thoughts about the supernatural vary greatly from person to person -- are ghosts real or aren't they? can they hurt you or not? -- to be honest, that's a little deeper than I care to venture right now. Suffice it to say that my thoughts on the subject are pretty simple: THAT SHIT IS SCARY!

The past few nights have been rough. I've been hearing something that sounds like a scratching or rustling of some kind, seeing flashes of movement out of the corner of my eye, and freaking out every time Dixie (also known as She Who Is Too Lazy To Bark) starts growling under her breath and charging at seemingly nothing but thin air. I was honestly beginning to think that we were not alone in this house.

What happened tonight proved that I was right.

After I put Morgan to bed I began hearing the same scratching noise I've heard all week long. Only this time I'd had enough and instead of turning the TV volume up and cowering under a blanket on the couch, I began searching for the source of the sound. Eventually I determined that it was coming from behind my cedar chest (a high school graduation gift from a very special family, and my favorite piece of furniture in the entire house). I stood there silently for a few moments, wondering what exactly my next move would be, then I got down on my hands and knees and slowly peered under the cedar chest.

And that's when I saw it.

I screamed when I saw it's dark eyes staring back at me. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest as I quickly backed away. I then ran directly to Adam's gun safe, opened it, and grabbed the first thing my hand touched. A bit dramatic, maybe. But in my defense, logic has a way of going straight out the window when you find yourself face to face with a creature like THIS:








(wait for it)






(wait for it)





AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! 


This is not actually my mouse. I was far too panic-stricken at the
time to worry about taking a picture.

Yep, I've been losing sleep over A MOUSE! And not even a giant man-eating mouse. Just a regular ol' cute little mouse with big please feed me eyes. For the record, I didn't shoot it but we will definitely be purchasing mouse traps tomorrow. And I believe I'll sleep a bit easier tonight.