I realize I have neglected you, and it isn't because of anything you've done. It's not you, it's me. I've been squandering my time on other things like raising small children, fixing up my bike for cycling season, spring cleaning (inside and out!) and... yes, CrackBook. I personally think it oughta be called Fast Food for the Soul. Anyway, my point is, I'm sorry I haven't spent more time with you lately. To be forthright, I don't know if that's going to change anytime soon. I just don't want you sitting up late at night wondering if I'm going to post something to you and going to bed sad if I don't.
I'd say more, but I'm pretty certain that right this minute, one of my friends has posted a new and humorous status update and I'm missing the opportunity to offer the first snarky-but-friendly witticism in response. So, I'm out. Catch you later.
Sincerely,
Me
[just a moment ago] [comment] [like]
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-- my housemate Jefe, as he poured me a second glass of the evening's new discovery, Unibroue's Quelque Chose. (Thanks again, Jefe.)
]]>Oh, and yeah, I'm on Facebook now. Thanks to Jefe for shaming me into it.
]]>You heard me.
It took the better part of half an hour, and my legs are a little sore (seriously, try it sometime), but it was a fun little game and a welcome diversion from the daily routine.
If you're saying to yourself, "Man, that's just sad," I'd almost bet money you aren't a stay-at-home mom with very small children. This post isn't for you. It's probably best you just move along.
No, this post is dedicated to all the other SAHMs out there. You other ladies who find yourself saying things incomprehensible outside our circle, like "oh, it's just pee"... who know what a rare and slightly surreal experience it is to go [shopping] [potty] [damn near anywhere] without an entourage... who find yourself standing in the checkout line still doing the standing-on-a-cruise-ship sway even when you aren't holding your baby... this one's for you.
Oh, the freaking irony: my son just woke up from his nap... crying. Guess I'm done with this post.
Can one of you take over from here? :)
]]>*sigh*
Yeah, I'll probably have an account there sometime next month. Look me up.
]]>Four years later, the victim has made amazing strides... not toward her recovery, but toward being able to sue her friend for the injuries she sustained.
Yes, the California Supreme Court ruled last Thursday that unless a person is administering emergency care, he or she can be sued for injuries resulting from attempts to render aid. In this case, since the car didn't blow up after all, it turns out it wasn't an emergency.
Is there a way to know that except for in hindsight?
Here's what else I'm wondering: couldn't she just as easily have beed sued for negligence if she'd done nothing and the car had exploded?
I'm envisioning a new line of greeting cards just for the state of California: the cover would read, "I only know of one way to show my gratitude for all you've done." The inside would say, "Bend over."
]]>...I've conquered several new recipes (one of which was a pastry crust that should have earned me technical points for difficulty), much to the delight of my housemates, who serve as guinea pigs for my culinary experiments.
...I've figured out a morning routine wherein both my toddler and my newborn get clean diapers and breakfast before either has a chance to be upset about having to wait for them.
...I've started wearing a bit of makeup again, stopped wearing so many things that look like Western society's answer to the burqa, and even started occasionally wearing shoes at times when they aren't mandatory.
It's weird. I'm not sure what's happening to me. The best way I can describe it is... I feel like I'm in bloom.
It isn't that I hated being a stay-at-home mom before now. I've just never felt as deeply satisfied with that role as I have lately. No small part of the blame credit goes to Crunchy Granola Ami for passing me a copy of Edith Schaeffer's Hidden Art (which has since been re-released as The Hidden Art of Homemaking), wherein some tasks I once viewed as mundane are revealed to be what they truly are: opportunities to create beauty and show love in an increasingly ugly and heartless world.
Don't get me wrong -- I'm still no Stepford wife, and my organized-chaos approach to housekeeping is the stuff of Martha Stewart's nightmares. I'm a long way from where I'd like to be as a wife and a mom... but unlike Russia, I think I can see it from here.
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She's six weeks old today and looks so much like her Daddy, I might even feel a little slighted if our son the internet celebrity didn't look so much like me.
We're falling behind on pictures because we left the camera at my in-laws' house across town and haven't had a chance to retrieve it yet. So when we get more photos, so will you. Meanwhile, a parting shot: at VISION, our last ArtLoveMagic event of the year, Jenice Johnson snapped a picture of me showing off my latest masterpiece...
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The first time he called, she thought it was a joke by a local radio station, so she hung up on him. When he had Rahm Emanuel call her back, she hung up on him too. It took a third call -- this time from a representative she knew personally -- to convince her the call was legit.
One has to wonder if Obama got a glimpse of what God feels like when He's trying to get through to us and we keep blowing Him off as though it were a prank call...
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