My Daughter Cracks Me Up

Eliza [while playing baseball against the computer on our new Wii (thank you Grandma)]:  Show us what your momma gave you!

(she swung and missed)

Eliza: Your momma sure gave you somthin'!

******

A few days ago I stumbled upon Eliza playing with her Barbies.  She hasn't had a male doll and she got some paper dolls for Christmas including some princes.  So, I find her with two female Barbies making out.

Me: Eliza, why are those girls kissing?

Eliza: They love each other.

Me: Are they married?

(For Eliza, our discussions about marriage have been the right to kiss on the lips; we explained Grandma and Grandpa's divorce by saying they couldn't kiss each other anymore.)

Eliza: Yeah, to him.

Me:  They're both married to him?

Eliza: No, all three of them.

Me: He has three wives.

Eliza:  Yep.

Apparently, for some children, polygamy is just intuitive.  And the sexual relationships within that marriage are, oh, flexible.

Happy New Year!

My aunt, my mother's sister, was dared to join a Polar Bear Dip in exchange for $200 donated to a charity of her choice.  My aunt, kindly, and oh so thoughtfully, invited me to join her.  My aunt is 65 and since I always like a friend to go with me I said, "Sure.  Why not?"

Of course, I figured that I would need financial incentive as well so I invited all my facebook friends (feel free to join in) to donate to the Children's Miracle Network in memory of my nephew Rayden League.

New Year's came and I braced myself:

• swimsuit - check.
  
• towel -  check.
• five layers of clothes -  check, check, check, check, check!
• two sets of little hotties hand warmers (one for hands, one for toes)- check and check.
  
• hot chocolate - damn forgot that.
• armload of wood for the fire - double damn.

But take the plunge I did.

 There's something wonderfully wild and crazy about lining up with like-minded insane people to plunge into the ocean when the ambient temperature is a balmy 23 degrees Fahrenheit.  My aunt was the first one in the water and I followed her lead; when she dove, I dove.

The wonderful thing about plunging into such cold water is that 23 degrees suddenly feels like a warm summer day.  Then every thing becomes tingly and I could literally feel every pore on my skin.  I felt energetic. I COULD CONQUER THE WORLD!!!

Then the adrenaline stopped, my body decided that I was NOT in an emergent situation and that it didn't need to worry and should leave me to my own stupidity.

I got cold.

I must say, though, that the hand warmers on my toes, inside my wool socks, were the most perfect thing and the best idea I had the whole day.  That and the grande hot chocolate from a local coffee shack.

When I got home, I slept the afternoon away.

Shocking, I know.

But in the end, for only about 2 minutes of work and a few hours of cold, I managed to raise $76+.  (You could make it more....)

I'm thinking this could be a new tradition.

**PS - do you see how big my chest looks?  Holy big bosoms batman!

Distraction Is a Mother's Best Friend

Q:  What was Eliza's first word?

Me: Mmmm....I really don't remeber.

Q: What was my first word?

Me: Ah, honey, I don't remember this stuff.

Q: You should really write things down so you don't forget.....What was Rafe's first word?

Me: Cookie.

[Pause]

Q: Why do you remember Rafe's first word but not mine or Eliza's?

[Pause]

Me:  Ooh, hey!  Look at that giant Christmas Star over there?!

Deep Thoughts

Why is it that I can studiously examine my chin and the right corner of my mouth for those three dark, thick hairs that crop up from time to time and never find one, but as soon as I'm far away from my mirror and tweezers, usually driving somewhere with all my children in the van, I find one and it's about 1/2 an inch long? 

Gifts from Heaven

I was rifling through the pantry to find something to make for dinner when I stumbled across a bag of Ghirardelli's dark chocolate squares with caramel.

*mmmm*

Better than finding a random $20 in my coat pocket.

Old Things Are New Again

I discovered recently that a number of films I like (notably Notting Hill and Wimbledon) are produced by a company called Working Title Films.  They also produced Four Weddings and a Funeral.  I watched the movie back when it came out and was horribly disappointed.  But the movie was playing on TV and I like dark chocolate and bleu cheese, which I didn't as a child so, why not?

I watched the movie and was still horribly disappointed (well, maybe only disappointed) but there were moments of brilliance that I failed to appreciate as a youth.

My favorite was at the one funeral in the movie.  Matthew, Gareth's partner, mourns the loss of his love and recites the most perfect poem about grief and loss.  He had me at the first sentence as I remember feeling that exact feeling at the loss of my mother.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

So while the movie was a waste of two hours, for the second time, the poem was well worth it.  I can now express verbally what's in my heart when I have my moments of grief and needing words I don't have for an emotion I can't wish away.

Coincidentally, in one of those great circle of life moments, the poem is by W.H. Auden, my senior year roommate's favorite poet.  I should have known she was on to something; she was a brilliant woman who took seriously the proper use of adverbs, knew a great deal about diamonds and could make an amazing gorgonzola cream sauce.

Feeling the Need

...the need to blog.  I know, it would be so much better if it rhymed but somehow I think "the need to bleed" would not quite convey my current craving.

The only issue is, I haven't much to say.  "But when," you cry, "when has that ever stopped you before?"

Too.  true.

So, I'm here to tell you that my toes on my left foot are sticky and I have no idea why.

I'm here to tell you that I have found a new Christmas tradition that has brought the whole season into my heart; I chase my cat and yell, "Run Fuzzy Butt!  Run!"  It's really quite fun. (And to all of you card carrying members of PETA, may I say that I only do that when she begins to enter my dad's cat's territory; really it's for her own safety.)

I'm here to tell you that my daughter is finally wearing size 6 clothing.  It's weird, but this new wardrobe makes her look all grown up.  No babies at my house.  Is it wrong to sob with loss while I party with glee?

Mmmm....what else could I possibly add to this utterly scintillating post? 


I have decided that my daily light therapy is a fabulous excuse to nap early morning.  Hobbits eat all day; I find excuses to sleep all day.

I guess that's it.  I'm trying to overcome this innate need to make all my posts looong.

So, adieu. I'm off to sip my delicious dark chocolate cocoa and wait for the Mentalist to start.

What a life.