I know it's been oh-so-quiet around here. I haven't stopped thinking, and I haven't stopped writing. I'm just feeling a little shy and awkward with my words right now. So many things are going on, and I will update soon. I promise.
Sunday, December 31
Friday, December 22
Thursday, December 21
I am so stressed. So so very stressed. It's not because of Christmas or anything like that, but because two little bugs have crawled up my kid's butts causing them to act anything but the two little loveys I know they can be (and ARE, I suppose). I don't think I've had as much as ten minutes peace and quiet in the past week.
But, I just wanted to wish everyone (who happens to read this anyways), a Merry Christmas with a photo of me during Christmas in 1982 (I am barely two).
Saturday, December 16
I am feeling rather pathetic right now. I had some sort of epiphany this morning while drinking my coffee--it was cold, and it was cold because I haven't had time to drink one cup of coffee straight through during the morning because of my kids. Realizing this, I poured out my cold coffee, poured a fresh hot cup, and went to the only place where a girl can get a few minutes alone to drink it.
Yes, I drank my coffee while sitting on the toilet this morning.
Thursday, December 14
Well, you should know that with a last name like,"Reed," I have gotta like books. Especially half-priced used paperbacks from the Hill Road's Jellybeans. Here I am trying to recapture some youth looking for a copy of,"Blubber," by Judy Blume, to read during my week off from the Writing Center.
I didn't find the copy I wanted--the one with the old style cover, a sketch of the "Blubber Girl." I think it is green. All they had was a newer version, and so I am still looking.
Wednesday, December 13
At some moment during the day, when I am feeling SOMETHING--love, frustration, depression, satisfaction, happiness--I will take ONE photo and one photo ONLY and post that no matter how unsatisfied I am with it. The whole point being: THAT'S WHAT LIFE IS! I can't change the moment, I can't keep living it and taking that picture over-and-over trying to get it perfect, and so I will just let my life and the year of photos be.
Sunday, December 10
Yesterday we took Molly and Logan to see Santa at VGs, our favorite local grocery store, which made much more sense than going to the mall to see the old crusty guy.
It was nice getting the Santa-thing out of the way while shopping for groceries (something we do every week, sometimes twice) rather than lugging two small children though the mall amongst crazy shoppers (something we never do), waiting in line with three dozen screaming children and their parents only to end up paying $10 for an overdeveloped blurry photo. The VGs Santa photo was free, and they didn't care if I snapped a photo of Logan with my digital. We pick up Molly's "real" (read: with a film camera) photo on Wednesday. I can't wait to see the photo of Molly. Chris says that Molly looks like a deer (no pun intended) caught in headlights.
Molly was a bit too shy and intimidated to stand next to the Big Guy, and so I had to stand next to him while she stood next to me as I urged her to smile (she was getting a bit teary-eyed). "I don't want to sit on Santa's lap. Not until I bigger," she whispered, and I assured her that sitting on his lap wasn't part of the deal--she only had to ask him for what she wanted. That made her feel better, and she warmed up a bit. Santa, sensing the ease proceeded with his Santa bit:
"What's your name, Little Girl."
"Me is Molly Jean Reed."
"Have you been a good girl, Molly?"
"What would you like for Christmas"
And after a series of about a half-dozen "Ummmms," she proudly asked for a comic book (she makes her daddy so proud). Everyone gushed at how positively adorable she was, and we went on our way.
Later, as we walked through the store, Molly started crying, to which Chris and I prodded, "What's wrong?"
"Aw, poor baby, did you want to ask Santa for something else?" Thinking she forgot to ask Santa for a pop-um, whatever that is...
"Yes. I have something me forgot to tell Santa."
And so we lugged our cart back to the front of the store. No other children were in line--save Santa, his helpers and a couple of old ladies (Santa is adorable after all, and even though he is taken, he still is quite the old lady chick magnet)--so Chris and I figured it was okay for her to get another go at asking for presents.
Molly crept back up to Santa. Her face got all serious trying not to forget what she was going to say, and then with a shy little smile she gushes like a true Santa Claus groupie, "I watch all your movies."
My guess is that this year she is going to get TWO comic books in her stocking.
Saturday, December 9
Friday, December 8
Thursday, December 7
Chris had his surgery yesterday, and everything went a-okay.
Chris is okay. He is one-handedly typing a letter to his mother.
The kids are okay. Molly is playing in her room listening to her Christmas CD. Logan is slumbering peacefully with his darling little bottom up in the air.
As for me, I'm okay. I'm brewing a pot of coffee and I'm about to get some work done. Life is good, and there is not much more I could ask or wish for. I need to start believing in our family's mantra more: Things always work out for us. It may be at the very last possible second, but it's oh-so-true.
Tuesday, December 5
Months ago, my hubby had a horrible shop accident--he smashed his thumb in a press. The best way to describe the way his thumbed looked is to imagine a sausage nuked in the microwave so long that it splits in several places. Now take that image and imagine rolling over the sausage with a rolling pin until it is smashed flat.
Except it wasn't a sausage.
That was my husband's thumb.
It was a mess of bone and flesh and blood, but thanks to the hubby's amazing orthopedic surgeon, it now looks nearly normal except it's kind of flopped over to one side, and so tomorrow Chris is having surgery to have his thumb cosmetically altered so that it will be nearly normal looking. It won't bend at the middle joint, but it will look OK, which is great.
I'm not worried or nervous about his surgery, but more so the after effects of it. He will be in a cast for six weeks again, which means I will have to take on a lot more responsibility--he will be unable to do the dishes or change diapers or fix bottles or give Molly her bath.... etc. and so on and so forth, and so I will be left with those things PLUS my job, and that scares me. I may need to call my shrink to see if he can up the dose on my Prozac. So, yeah, I'm scared, and I hope I will be OK.
Monday, December 4
This morning I came across a link, where kids can send an e-mail to Santa. Yes, an e-mail (I guess even Santa has to keep up with the times), and he will "write" back with a very kindly computer generated e-mail addressed to your kids. Jolly good fun!
Well, here is Molly's letter she had me write. She wants toys, but I guess getting a wrapped box of Nerds last night from Daddy and some pop-ups (whatever those are) will be enough. Oh yea, and Santa coming to play with her would be nice, too.
|Your Five Factor|
Sunday, December 3
"Mama, look!"She is so totally cool even though her circle does look more like a square. Maybe she knows something I don't.
"What?" Lazily. Looking up from my laptop. Intrigued."What ARE
you doing, Molly?"
"Makin' a circle...!"
"Yeah, seeeeeeeeeeee?" Motions to the TV while
"Oh! A circle. How very cool."
Friday, December 1
My lovely Internet friend, Dep, who I met on Flickr (her photos are AMAZING by the way--do look), is feeling a bit blue because of her looks and body and all that mommy jazz, and this is my response to her response to herself.
I thought I'd share because it's been my mantra of sorts every time I stand naked in front of the mirror nitpicking every part of my new mommy-body:
oh dep. I so know what you mean and how you feel. i am only 26, and had two children in 3 years, and i am already so saggy and flabby and have wrinkles around my eyes and i get so jealous of other 26-year-olds who have wonderful perky tittys and flat smooth tummys....but when i look at my children and realize how positively wonderful and amazing they are, i think:
"My god, woman, who gives a damn about how your body looks... ?? Because just LOOK at WHAT it DID: My body created TWO amazing little humans!!"
And then I feel better.........
.....until the next tight-bodied young something walks by!