Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Birdie has taken a hard stand against morning naps and so we wrestle it out in the rocking chair. She slaps me in the face with her flailing free hand and works up a froth of spit and boogers to try to repulse me. To any regular person it would be a great defense. But I'm a mother, and it takes more than snot to send me packing.
It's our morning smack down. I hold her close to me and I make sure to never ever lose.
And I sing. Sometimes hymns, but mostly I sing Native American chants that I make up while I pat her bottom to the beat.
We sing a lot in this house. Not well. But we do sing.
I thought I had a hang nail this morning and I went to bite it off with my teeth but it wasn't a hang nail. It was salty.
I went ahead and swallowed anyway, because after all, I am a mother. These things don't phase me anymore.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
The stress has come home to roost. And when I say "come home" I mean on my thighs.
I may or may not have been eating Now and Laters and Fritos into the wee hours of the evening on more than one occasion.
I was totally game when I came downstairs to find that Natalie, a.k.a. Rosie, had typed up a weight loss plan for me. Evidently she was a little tired of hearing me complain about tight jeans as I stuffed as much bread pudding into my mouth as possible.
I was genuinely excited about our twice a day work-outs and smaller portions of healthier food.
"And", she added, "Only one sweet per week."
"Yes. Yes. You're right. No more bread pudding! Skinny jeans here I come!" I was really getting pumped up.
"And..." she held up her hand to calm me, "and I hid your secret chocolate stash."
Excusez moi si vous plait?
When Rosie was little, her taste buds didn't develop correctly and she doesn't like chocolate so she had no idea what she had done. I stood in stunned silence and watched her prepare to eat her lunch.
That chocolate stash was there for my health! I heard once on Oprah that eating an ounce of dark chocolate everyday was like taking a vitamin and I have lived that gospel for some years now.
I tapped my finger on the counter and slowed my breathing.
"Okay then, put the moussaka back in the fridge." I said right before she took her first bite.
"Yes really. Healthier food. Remember?"
So far, I'm up two pounds.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
I'm going to level with you here.
I'm in over my head.
I've been running a show that is too big for me to handle. I'm at my limit. Strung out. Kaput.
And Jenny is to blame. She is the one that said, "You can do it! You have to do it! Everyone will help." Dear sweet girl that she is. God love her, she's just a sucker for a good party and she couldn't abide the fact that I wasn't going to throw the Meeker Extravaganza this year.
She talked me into it. Damn her.
I've have spent the last few weeks of my life in a haze, choking on what I had bit off.
Rosie worked diligently to save my sanity. She picked up the slack. She changed poopy diapers and loaded the dishwasher and and cut and pasted and arranged things to look just the way I like them. She is a saint and when I look at her I think I can make out the slight aura of a halo about her head.
I had a moment earlier this week when I swore that I was going to call everything off. No party. No Secondsister Winter collection. No church stuff. No more screaming baby. No more getting showered in the morning.
My little sister sent Thom an ant farm for his birthday. Isn't she sweet? Isn't she just a peach? I was so thankful I sent her daughter a full pack of Lick-Um-Stick sugar powder.
Anywho, she sent these ants and I was sitting, in despair, on The Boy's bed watching the ants. Let me tell you, those ants, they are hard workers. They seemed to be in a frenzy to move the sand around to create a little cozy space deep down in the habitat. They moved the sand grain by grain until they had it just so.
In my delirium, I realized something. And bear with me here, because this may seem like a very odd analogy, but like I said, I was a little crazed at the time. I realized that I could really learn something from those ants.
For the past month all I've heard is bad news. This person is getting divorced. This person's child has scarlet fever. Bankruptcy, family fights, death, rehab. No one had good news to tell me. I was getting down right depressed.
I realized Jenny was right. We needed a party. We needed to create a cozy little space where things were good and fun and lighthearted. And the way to make it happen was to take it on grain by grain.
So Rosie and I worked like the ants. At times crawling over each other to get the job done. And Jenny, because she is true blue, showed up at the eleventh hour to bust her tail and help us out.
And then the guests showed up. Fifty or so people with smiles and veggie platters and baba ganoush. And some of them had really good news to share. This person is pregnant. That girl just sold her first novel. This couple is being considered by two birth mothers! Weight loss, new jobs, goals met, birthdays!
And in just a few hours, it all became worth it. I nestled with my friends in our happy little space in the Universe and we celebrated. AND we raised a nice chunk of change for a family in need. I always have a raffle with really great prizes donated by all my uber talented friends and this year we raised more money than ever before.
I find that each year, more than anything, this party, this crazy party, reminds me what great friends I have. They are generous and funny and interesting and I really don't feel worthy.
So the truth is this:
It is only possible for me to live a creative, artful, fulfilling life because I am surrounded by people willing to help me. In a way, my entire life is photo shopped before you see it here. I seldom mention all the dirty work behind the scenes, but you should know, the truth is, there is dirty work to do and I have an army of amazing cronies that are there for me.
So if you are reading this, and you are one of those cronies, I just want to say thanks.
I owe you one.
The quote at the beginning of this post was taken from Richard Nixon's nomination acceptance speech.
Now that you know my secrets, the truth of how I do all the things I do, we must never speak of this again. I really like the photoshopped me.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
I know some of you are wondering what this Spark thing is that I have been talking about. Go here and all will come to light.
The inspiration behind Spark is this talk by Dieter F. Uchtdorf which I think every women should watch.
I created a stamp just for the Spark event.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Or so we thought.
On his third day at the Meeker house Eugene went on the lamb.
I was on the phone with my dad when I spotted something in the far corner of the kitchen wedged underneath the cabinets. I got closer to have a look and gasped into the receiver when it dawned on me that I was looking at Eugene's corpse.
It seems his gamble didn't pay off.
But what a display of sheer determination! People, this little crab crawled out of the tank and down the bathroom cabinets. He must have gone through Thom's room, down the hall, took a hard right, and scaled down two flights of stairs. At that point I can only imagine his excitement to see a door leading outside. Freedom at last! But he still had a ways to go, down the hall and through the kitchen. He must have been simply exhausted. I wonder what went through his mind as defeat overcame him, as he realized the door was shut tight, that he was slowly drying out with no where to go.
"What am I going to tell him?" I asked my dad. "He's going to be so upset! He only had him a couple of days!"
I tried to break the news to Thom as gently as I possibly could. I put him on my lap. I stroked his hair and explained that Eugene was no more. I waited for the tears.
"Good." he said. "Now I can get those fish that I really wanted at the pet store."
Monday, September 07, 2009
Family. Faith. Fashion. You know, stuff like that.
But political things boggle my mind and although I surround myself with opinionated people, I am usually reluctant to take a hard stand on things. I don't want to be like all the people walking around blabbing that the world was flat just before Magellan debunked the whole system.
I like to keep my options open. What's that about saying less and seeming smarter?
But I find that I have become down right passionate about the lowly plight of the honey bee. Did you know that they are dissappearing?
Antropologie recently got on board to shed light on the problem.