Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
It takes a village to raise a child, and apparently it takes a village to give a two year old a party, in the rain, in a teeny-tiny house after you've invited approximately 20+ children (and their loving parents) and thoughtfully planned for an OUTSIDE party.
To celebrate our BABY turning TWO, I had planned a lovely outside party for a boat load of kids and as luck would have it turns out they actually had to go home in boats. So, I guess you could say fate took a funny turn. ;o)
The party was planned from 3-5 p.m. which seemed like a smart idea when we planned it. The kids could eat a semi-healthy dinner, get lots of energy out (did I say - OUTSIDE???), get sugared up, and then go home, bathe (presumably - I'm not judging here), and GO TO BED. Yippee for the parents, eh? Well, like I said, it seemed like a great idea. And then a little thing called Hurricane Julia (??? I have trouble with names, but you get the idea) decided to hit the coast and wreak all kinds of havoc with our normally drought-like weather. Thank you, Julia. Note to yourself: You are NOT welcome in my village.
So, just to give you folks that were not actually a part of this party (by the end of this post you will be thanking your lucky stars) a little idea of how things progressed yesterday, here is a time-line of events.
8:00 a.m. - It could go either way weather-wise. I say LOTS of prayers for NO RAIN at church.
9:00 a.m. - The weather seems to be holding. Thank you, God.
10:00 a.m. - I am feeling fairly good about going ahead with the party - it's important to know that Saturday night I did NOTHING party-wise because it was POURING so I just assumed we'd have to cancel it (darn). So Sunday morning I had to kick it into HIGH gear. Cupcakes are started (48 of them), taco bar is on, pinata is stuffed and put up, yard is cleaned (again - since it rained non-stop through the night and all the work husband and son did Saturday is now ruined), and house is 'cleaned.'
11:00 a.m. - Sky clouds up and it looks like rain. Um, God: WHERE ARE YOU??? I question our decision. Husband lays down the law and says, "The show will go on unless there is a downpour before 3:00 p.m." Thank you, husband for making an executive decision because I am unable to do that.
12:00 noon - I think the sun may have made its first appearance in two days at this point.
1:00 p.m. - I tell husband, "Let's change the party from 2-4 because I am having a 'feeling.' Husband basically says, "No feelings."
2:00 p.m. - Still bright (not so much SUNNY, but not doom and gloom).
2:30 p.m. - There is a GIANT and very black cloud moving toward our house.
2:52 p.m. - Three other children that live in this house announce, "IT'S RAINING MOM!!! But, just sprinkling. DON'T WORRY, MOM!!!" Apparently God is somewhere dealing with something else. World peace?
3:00 p.m. - It's raining harder. We decide to break from time honored tradition that dates back to days in early Mexico and do the pinata FIRST before the sky breaks open.
3:10 p.m. - The sky breaks open and we barely have time to yank the pinata down from the tree and haul it inside.
3:10 - 5:00 - My wonderful friends save me in several ways. Here are just a few ways that my AWESOME friends helped so that the party was still a success and not total and complete chaos (well, okay it WAS total and complete chaos, but I'd like to think it was a success ;o).
- One quick thinking friend suggested dividing up all the pinata loot and actually RETURNING the pinata (how fab is that???). AND she graciously volunteered to divide the loot (and LABEL the treat bags). I think a couple other friends helped. THANK YOU!
- Friends were so kind about the food. Again, we broke from time honored tradition and did a 'taco bar' instead of our usual hot dogs, queso, and other assorted junk food. THANK YOU for eating it all and saying it was yummy.
- One mom braved the upstairs and watched tiny tots play in L's room for almost the entire party. THANK YOU!
- All our guests acted like it was perfectly normal to proceed with the party in the pouring down rain in our tiny house after inviting like 2000 people. THANK YOU for being so sweet and acting like everything was normal. ;o)
- All the parents kept tabs on their kids to keep damage nonexistent. No mud inside the house!!! THANK YOU!
- No one was peeved that we skipped opening presents.
- Everyone headed out at 5:00 even though it was still pouring. THANK YOU!
Our friends are truly the best. THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! I could not do it without you.
P.S. - My kids and the husband are pretty great, too. My sweet husband cleaned the whole yard.........twice. Thanks, babe. ;o) My GREAT kids helped me and their dad so much beforehand AND cleaned the upstairs and downstairs toy chaos after the party. What troopers! :o) I think I'll keep all you guys till the next party. :o) HAPPY DAY AFTER YOUR BIRTHDAY, LITTLE L. And now I am going to bed. ;o)
Monday, September 13, 2010
i carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
You tell yourself.
Joyce Carol Oates, Missing Mom
"I have dreamed several times about the last time I saw my mother."
"Mmm. And are these dreams an accurate representation of your last time with your mother? Or, are you fantasizing the situation, again." She says 'again' the way a mother might say it to a child who has stolen a cookie and is eating it. And when the mother has discovered the child this child still has chocolate on her lips and a delightful smile on her face. And the mother says, "Have you stolen a cookie, again?"
I stay silent and while I do her lips purse together in a way that could be perceived as thoughtfulness or frustration. I am not sure.
Finally I say flatly, "They are pure conjecture. Pure fantasy. They are dreams."
"And why do you suppose you are fantasizing while you are asleep about the last time you saw your mother?"
The undertone in her voice suggests she does not believe me. She does not believe that I am dreaming? Or, she does not believe that it is not the way it actually occurred? It is almost comical how she is the one asking the questions, not me. After all I am paying for this hour. Shouldn't I be able to ask the questions? In a strange twist of reality, it reminds me of my mother. I can almost hear her saying into my ear, "Well, honey what do you think?" And I can almost feel my frustration with having to analyze yet another situation. In the present, in this office, I look vaguely and distractedly at her crisp white linen blouse, and I decide to ignore her question.
"In one dream we are on the beach. This is my favorite dream. There is a window in a cabin and I think it is some sort of family reunion. I am looking out the window with my hand pushing the thin cotton curtains aside. I can see my sisters and my brothers and their children and they are all building sand castles. I am not participating, but I am inside watching. And mom is behind me. Doing something, but I am not sure what. But, she is busy. I feel this strange sense of.........calm. Like peace. And I know that this is it. This is our last time together. I know that she will die. In the dream since I know this I am trying to feel everything. I am trying to memorize every detail. In the dream I plan to hug a little longer. I plan to let my hand linger on her face so that I don't forget how soft it is. I plan to soak in her scent. I plan to breather her in. I plan to be able to go back later and relive the last moment in amazing detail."
I pause and glance her way. I am not sure she is listening to me. Until she says,
"And do you have a chance to 'soak her in'? Before the dream ends?"
"I am not sure. I mean, I don't think the dream has ended. Yet. Not yet."
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
This house is under construction. If you are not directed to another house in the next two seconds, please click here.
That's all I got, readers. I am barely able to make it to my laptop due to boxes, dust, grime, and PEOPLE. So, until this job is completed and I have some of my "stuff" put back where it goes you will just have to IMAGINE what I am thinking.
I promise I will make it up to you with some great posts upon my return. If I am not back in a week..........send help.