An Ecstatic Bystander

I left at 3:45 this morning to pick-up our friends Jimmy and Melissa to take them to the airport so they can go to California for the birth of their soon-to-be SON. (up until last night at dinner we thought it was a girl... he's going to look might cute wearing that sweater I bought him, y'all)

It's so rewarding getting to be on the "outside" watching this process...this blessing...unfold. It conjures up all the anticipation and excitement Keith and I had going to get Daniel and my stomach is in knots for them as they embark on this new chapter in their lives. As we left their house this morning, it was surreal to know it will not be just the two of them residing there when they return. Soon there will be a little person sharing that space...and their hearts.

You know, it's funny when you think about how this whole love thing works. You have two people that are sharing life together. Then you bring a child into the picture and logic would make it seem like their hearts and love would then be divided...no longer solely focused on each other. But, it's quite the opposite. For us, the love we had for each other actually multiplied when we brought Daniel home. It strengthened our love for each other as we jointly sought to meet the needs of this wonderful new creature in our lives.

I am overjoyed that there are two people waiting to board a plane to California right this moment that are on the verge of discovering this for themselves. I'm an ecstatic bystander and can't wait to share in their joy...

What a Wonderful World

A charming video sent to me by my friend Melissa...
(course, you'll wanna pause my playlist to be able to listen!)

10.0

I was at the height of teenage angst when the 1984 Olympics aired. What young girl in America didn't want to be Mary Lou Retton, standing up there on the podium, accepting the Olympic gold metal?

Never having much of a gymnast body (or talent for that matter), I could only dream of floor routines, double twisty things on the uneven bars and pulling off a vault worthy of a 10.0

But, under water I can.

Tonight, the husband and son unit accompanied me to the pool for a late night swim. As my husband rocketed my five year old through the air, I did somersaults and floated on my back in the cool water. As I was performing my best aquatic acrobatics, I realized that--underwater-- I can be whatever I want to be... especially a gymnast. The weightlessness that the water provided allowed me to stretch my body and perform everything from a tuck and twist to a fully outstretched layback position. Of course, when I landed (simultaneously on both feet like any respectable gymnast aims to do...) I threw my arms back in a victorious manner...10.0...the crowd goes wild....

OK...wayyyyyyy too many people read this that know me. What in the heck and I doing giving them even MORE fodder for ridicule than I already have? :-)

Perspective

Today was a rough day.

Without going into all the nitty gritty details, suffice it to say that I received a one-two-and maybe even-three punch with some expenses dropped on us... we had a planned renovation of a guest bath that ended today... "cha-ching"...then our home study expired for our adoption so that expense is upon us...cha-ching... then my golden retriever gets sick from a bone she ate and I take her to the vet. Twenty minutes later the doc comes out with a diagnosis of "let's keep an eye on her" and they bring in the bill. $500.

FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS, Y'ALL.

X-rays, blood work... and a wait and see and I'm suddenly $500 in the hole. It's not that she not worth it...or that their expertise is not worth it...it's just that I was expecting something around $100.

Later on, I was reminded by a friend (kiddingly) about a nice chat I had with a deputy sherrif on the way home from Florida that resulted in a a little yellow piece of paper. Oh yeah, that, too. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.

So, I was sharing my financial woes with hubby who's traveling on business. And, he just so happened to be traveling through a city where we used to live and he had this thought on my our situation:

"You know, there was a time when we were right outta' college and you used to drive a long way to work, twice a day for next to nothin...and then your car broke down and we didn't have the money to fix it...and that time our power went out and we lost all our groceries and couldn't afford to replace them...you know what? We've come a long way since then. No matter what, we're gonna be O.K."

That's all I needed. A little reassurance from my glass-half-full guy. I love that man.

Lullabye Dreams

I stood there and surveyed the room. The light yellow walls were soft and pale and gave off a soothing glow in the late afternoon sun. The crib was ready and the rocking chair sat patiently waiting in the corner...waiting to engage in its gentle back and forth motion as lullabies fill the room.

On the other side of the room was a changing table with baskets of tightly rolled washclothes...all freshly laundered and in neat little rows. The diaper stacker contained the exact number of brand new diapers that it would hold and a box of unopened baby wipes stood at its ready position. I felt a lump in my throat as I watched my friend Melissa point out all the new "baby things" she received at her shower. Soft-sided building blocks and a basket of snow white bibs await the child that is soon to be theirs.

They received the call earlier today.

The birthmother is having contractions and all the signs point to a soon-to-be-delivery. Airline reservations were hastily made, suitcases were sitting atop the bed and the anticipation floated in the air...the same air that held wishes and dreams of a child of their own...the very air where prayers had been uttered night after night and where two wonderful people talked of one day starting a family.

As hard as I tried to hold them back, the tears flowed freely as I watched her proudly move about the room. It was ready. This once guest/catch-all room had been transformed into the perfect nursery. My emotions got the best of me as I recalled the evening before we flew to pick up our own son. Even now as I write, tears well up in my eyes as I thank God for bestowing upon our friends this very special gift.

Not long from now, they will hold their baby and they will discover the limitless love presented to a parent the moment they behold the face of their child. Very soon there will be laughter and tears and sweet, sweet dreams...lullabye dreams there in the pale yellow room.

I can't think of anyone more deserving.

Friday's Feast: August 17, 2007

Appetizer: Describe your laundry routine. Do you have a certain day when you do it all, or do you just wash whatever you need for the next day?

Laundry routine? [Katiebod is laughing. Katiebod is rolling on the floor, holding her side laughing] My laundry routine is to do laundry when I run out of underwear. Or, when my husband runs out of underwear. Yep, that's my routine.

Soup: In your opinion, what age will you be when you’ll consider yourself to truly be old?

I honestly think it depends on how I feel. I used to think late thirties was old. Until I hit my late thirties. Now I think I'll feel old in my sixties. But, by then, I'm sure my 80's will seem old. It's all relative. My child thinks I'm ancient.

Salad: What is one of your goals? Is it short-term, long-term, or both?

Short-term-- to finish our guest bath renovation!

Long-term-- to owe no "moolah"... to anyone. ever.

Main Course:

Name something unbelievable you’ve seen or read lately.

This. Sicko people, I tell ya:
http://blogs.usatoday.com/ondeadline/2007/08/report-on-peopl.html

Dessert: On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how happy are you today?

I'm home from a two-week trip. On a scale of 1 - 10, I'm sitting at a solid 14.

Home Sweet Home

...truer, more cliche words have never been spoken.

My husband. My dog. My own bed.

Ahhhhhhhh. So good to be home!!!!

Irrational? Perhaps.

If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you probably know I'm terrified of lightning. Call it irrational, call it what you want...it scares me to death. The seemingly randomness of it. A bolt of something striking you outta nowhere. EEeekkk, I don't like to think about it.

So here I am, visiting my sis in the LIGHTNING CAPITAL OF THE WORLD-- Tampa, Florida. Let's say you're afraid of spiders...so you go for an extended stay in the SPIDER CAPITAL OF THE WORLD. Get my drift?

One website explains: "...the odds of being stuck by lightning are like the odds of hitting the lottery, but if you live in Florida your odds are unfortunately greatly increased."

Breathe, Katie. Deeeeeeeep breath.

It started on that roller coaster I told you about yesterday. An announcement came over the intercom while we were in line stating that "impending inclement weather could cause us to close down this ride." OK, so we may get some rain. Lightning didn't cross my mind. Until I was strapped, buckled and five-point-harnessed into a metal seat perched at the very tip-top of a metal roller coaster. That's when my sister...a person who has been in my life for over three decades and knows the depths of my fears... chooses to exclaim "did you see that LIGHTNING? Cool!"

Are you kidding me? Again, to use the spider example. You're strapped in and someone shouts out that there is a spider crawling toward you. Panic set in. Hyperventilation neared. It certainly took the thrill of the coaster to a different level.

Then, last night we get a severe thunderstorm. This was no normal lightning storm. These were bolts unlike any I'd ever seen. Straight as a board, cloud to ground, bright bolts...popping everywhere. We were headed to my sister's school to do some work and, when we got there, we had to make a run for it.

You'd a thunk FloJo hopped out of that car. I really shoulda won a metal or somethin. For bravery, at least?

As much as I'm gonna miss my sis, I think I'll breathe a little easier getting back to Georgia where my biggest fear will be the mound of laundry I'll have to tackle when I get home.

I Came, I Saw, I Paid an Arm and a Leg

It was 592 degrees and hotter than the surface of the sun. Sea World in August, that is.

We paid a sum of money to get in...a sum that I won't disclose here to protect the innocent. A sum so high that I should have received a golden whale tail necklace and a lifetime supply of Shamu pops. It was expensive enough to cause my darling husband to shreik into the phone, "IT COST HOW MUCH?????!!!!" He really is an understanding man, you know.

So... we pass through the golden gates into a sea of sweaty individuals. As we approached our first line, beads of perspiration began to form on my temples and the nape of my neck. And I DO NOT SWEAT, Y'ALL. An hour later, I look like I'm fresh off a water ride (which woulda been nice since it was 789 degrees. Did I mention how hot it was?) There were lines everywhere. We waited 40 minutes in the broiling sun for Daniel to ride this bounce-you-up-and-down ride only for him to have this PETrified look the entire time. Great, I suffered a near heat stroke to pyschologically damage my child. Wonder when my Mother of the Year application is due?

Then we tried to find a bite to eat. Finding a table in a theme park restaurant is daunting at best. Have you ever tried? I feel so vulcheresque...scanning the room for any sign of completion...a last slurp of a drink or the wadding up of a napkin. It's a science, a trained art if you will. First of all, the eaters avoid all eye contact. They know that we are lurking and they try to keep as low a profile as possible. If the table vulcher senses any movement, they'll lunge forward as if a gun just went off for a 50-meter dash. It's crucial to send your best man (or woman) in to scout a location. Overt actions of desperation will only turn off potential table-giver-uppers. It is the innocent, gee-where-can-we-sit attitude that usually garners some sympathy. This time it was a table of four and the gentle walk-by with a casual glance around the room worked. It's one of my trademark moves.

But, y'all, it wasn't all bad.

Yeah, it was hot. "Straight-from-the-bowels-of-the-molten-earth" kind of hot. But, there were some nice parts, too. There were some shade trees and a nice family who gave us their double stroller. (I swear I saw halos above their heads, I'm not kiddin) There was also the fun, fun, fun roller coaster my sis and I went on while saintly bro-in-law watched the kiddos. And then, there was the Shamu Show. It was spectacular (I'll have to post some pics when I get home) I actually teared up...or maybe it was a stray bead of sweat, who knows? But, in the midst of a 956 degree day (it gets hotter in the late afternoon) it was so nice to see those beautiful creatures leaping out of the water, the thrill on the faces of too-tired children and to sense a wee bit of magic in it all.

Even if it did cost our life savings, it was worth it for that moment.

Slowing Down

I dined alone
And, in the absence of company,
took the time
to take it all in
noticing the
little
often unnoticed
things

The flicker of the candle
and the serene way the
snipped rosemary
floated on the surface
of the olive oil
on my plate

Shiny green olives
with their tanned interiors
bursting with tartness
contrasted by the
sweetness of the sangria
in my glass

Clear lightbulbs draped
crisscrossing above
and lively Italian music
adding to the festive
atmosphere

Slowing down
once in awhile
taking it all in

a nice change of pace...

Karaoke...for No Good Reason

yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...let's get somethin' goin up in this place, ya'll.... everybody put your hands together...

My feet are tired
My brain is, too...
I gots me a blister
From my brand new shoe

Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeah

I miss my hubby
My house and pup
How much longer
can I keep this up?

Yeah yeah yeah
Yeah yeah yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Bloggin karaoke
It's what I have to do
My mind can't think of anything
To write for all of you...

Yeah yeah yeahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The end. Pitiful, I know. I'm now of the firm opinion that sometimes it's better just to not write anything at all.

:-) Hope you're having a good week. ~ Katiebod

I Need a Valium...or Three

At 2:00am this morning I finally got to my hotel room in Orlando, pulled back the covers, crawled in and went straight to sleep.

Now, lemme back it up for you.

It's 2:00pm yestersday and hubby and I arrive at the Chicago airport in plenty of time for his flight back to Atlanta which departs at 5:00pm. Mine leaves an hour and a half later (6:30pm) so I was there 4.5 hours early. But--I'd have extra time with Keith since we wouldn't get to see each other for two whole weeks.

We check in at separate airlines (me Air Tran, him Delta). After checking in, I ntoiced a 3:30pm flight that would get me back to Orlando at 6:30pm. Tempting--but that would only give me an hour with Keith so I kept walking. I found him in line to check in and, when I did, the agent had just informed him there was plenty of room on the 3:45 flight if he'd like to go. He looked at me and I knew he really wanted to get home to get ready for work the next day, etc. so I told him I'd go try to get on the earlier flight myself.

I hurry back to the Air Tran counter and ask if there are seats on the 3:30pm flight.

"Yes," the ticket agent replied.

"Can I switch to that one? " I ask.

"You could, but you checked luggage. Regulations state that you cannot check luggage onto a flight you're not on. You have to be with your luggage."

At this point, I wasn't going to fight it. I'd read, browse in the gift shop, grab an early dinner...no big deal. It's 2:30pm.

Then I saw Keith. I guess my "PMS-tainted-we've never been apart this long" emotions got the better of me. Yes, y'all, there were tears. Here I was stuck in the Chicago airport (the smaller one at that) for 4 hours and it was all of my own doing.

Fast forward to four hours later. We are on the plane, buckled up and ready to go...some of us more than others. A cheerful captain comes across the intercom announcing there have been some weather delays so we're gonna hold off departing for a little while. Lawd have mercy.

7:00pm: "Folks, we have to go out to the runway to take a spot in line but we still haven't been cleared to fly. Sit tight."

Somewhere during this time, condensation from the coolant starts dripping on our heads. People are agitated. Babies are crying (2 babies and a toddler sitting in the seat behind me). Flight attendants are passing out paper towels for us to stuff in the cracks by the air vents. It's not looking good.

8:00pm: "Folks, they've come up with a new route for us but it takes us out west (remember, we're going to Orlando) so we have to return to the gate for more fuel. Don't wanna get over Iowa and run out now do we?" He chuckles. OK, Mr. Last Comic Standing...are you gonna get me to Orlando or what? The natives were getting restless.

9:00pm: "OK, folks looks like we're ready to take-off. Our new estimated arrival is 12:30am." Groans are heard throughout the cabin.

I think to myself that I could have gotten in at 6:30pm if I'd been able to take that earlier flight. BUT--I understood regulations, safety,having to be with your bags. So, oh well...I'd deal with it.

12:30am: we arrive in Orlando. Child behind me (bless his heart, I really do feel for him) has screamed the ENTIRE flight. We deplane and head to baggage claim. Obviously they haven't had time to pull the luggage off yet so I'm setting off to find somewhere to plug my phone in to call Keith.

That's when I spot them.

Two black bags with white polka dots. Sitting alone in the dark outside the Air Tran window. You have to be kidding me.

Yep, you guessed it. They arrived...safe and sound...six hours earlier...

...on the 3:30pm flight.

I won't even go into the ordeal of getting to my car. There's only so much a girl can blog about without her head exploding you know?

Come Sail Away...

...come sail away, come sail away with me...

Keith and I have spent the weekend in the Windy City and have had a blast. Of course, I've had to work quite a bit touring four different properties...but we have managed to work in a little sightseeing, too. :-)

My hubby surprised me last night, though. He had booked a late night cruise on Lake Michigan that provided breathtaking views of the Chicago skyline at night. It was quite chilly with a sprinkling rain shower as we set sail on the tall schooner-style ship named the "Windy II." What a treat!

As we cleared the jetty and entered the open water, the engine was cut off and the sails took over. The most remarkable part was the silence...the city was abuzz with lights, cars, the normal hub-bub of a weekend in the city and we could not hear a thing. It was as if we were watching a colorful silent film before our eyes...only the sound had been replaced by the sound of gulls and our boat creaking as it bobbed up and down on the waves. I could feel every ounce of tension drip out of my body. I vowed then and there to live my life at sea. Forever.

OK, so not really.

But, it was a wonderful evening capped off by fireworks with the skyline as a backdrop. I can't convey how safe and content I felt...a summer evening with a cool breeze whipping through my hair, my hubby's arms wrapped around me for warmth and the gentle knock of waves against our boat...

Bliss. Sheer bliss, I tell ya.

Momma Eluding the Po-Po

It started out well. Our road trip to Florida, that is. Bright sunny skies, an open road and a CD case full of movies that my son loves...what could go wrong? I mean life was good. I had energy, good music and folks, I even had cute hair goin on.

Yeah, well...fast forward 10 hours later.

The Florida Turnpike is a long, longgggggggggggggggggggggggggggg endless road completely devoid of civilization except for a service plaza every 45 miles. I was drivin, singing and READY TO GET OUT OF THE CAR. My journey began at 11:30am and it was now knocking on 9pm. It was dark, ya'll. NO LIGHTS to be found...on the horizon or otherwise. Where is Orlando, I asked myself? Shouldn't I be seeing some sign of life somewhere?

I began to worry.

And, to add to the fun--I have less than a quarter tank of gas. To say panic was setting in would be putting it lightly. So, I call my hubby. After finding me on the map based on the last mile marker he shouts into the phone, "YOU PASSED IT FORTY MILES AGO!"

Yeah, I was on my way to Miami.

"Turn around!," he shouted, um, I mean ... gently encouraged.

"I'm trying! There's no turnaround!!!" I screamed, um, I mean... calmly replied.

My heart was racing. By this point, I'm watching the needle dip below the 1/4 tank mark and my oh-so-distracted child is now paying attention.

"Why are we lost, Mommy?"

"We're not LOST, baby...Mommy just missed the turn. We're turning around."

"Where, Mommy? And are we gonna run outta gas?"

For the love of Pete. Why does he choose to pay attention now?

My hubby calls again and I explain that there is a cut-through that is for police only but I'm going to have to take it or I'll run out of gas. Well, that's all it took.

"Mommy, that is illegal. You can't turn around there."

"Sweetie," I said with words dripping with tension, "it'll be OK."

Silence.

I whip through the cut-through and head back north.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Who am I gonna be with when you get arrested?"

I couldn't help but chuckle as I rub my temple--now throbbing.

We finally pull up to the next service plaza and there are, of course, 3 police parked near the entrance.

"Uh, oh," Daniel exclaims. "They're here."

That child cracks me up.

I pull up to the cops to ask them how in the heck to get to the Orlando airport area. As I was getting directions, Daniel is shouting in a loud whisper from the back seat: "tell 'em, Momma! Tell e'm what you did!""

Thank heavens that my child has sense of right and wrong. Now I just need to work on his timing! :-)

My New Home...Florida.

Kidding. Sorta.

I will actually be there tomorrow through the 17th of August so I'm sure it will begin to feel like home. I'm doing an event in Orlando next week then spending a week with my sister the following week. The catch is--she'll be keeping my son the week of my meeting and I'll be keeping her daughter the next week when she goes back to school... so, lots o' quality cousin time. We may both rethink our desire for a second child after the trip is over... :-)

Besides a quick trip up to Chicago this weekend with my hubby (woo hooooo) I'll be in Florida but will still be bloggin away. 15 nights away from home (gulp).

My next entry will be from the road.

Anyone have a good wireless internet "rain dance" I can use to ensure connectivity? [grin]

Florida...here I come.

I Survived Everest (and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt!)

OK, so maybe it wasn't Everest. Maybe it wasn't even a mountain at all. It could have just been the hill from "h-e-double-hockey-sticks" in our neighborhood. Yes, it WAS my idea to start taking that route every morning-- but it's hard, ya'll. It's a gradual incline that gets steeper and steeper and since it now comes at the end of our 3 mile jaunt...it makes it that much harder.

But I do it.

Yeah, my calves were on FIRE...but maybe, just maybe, each day we do it will get a little easier.

The key is going to be sticking to this walking routine when my uber-fit and always encouraging walking partner goes back to being a teacher next week.

I will say (and not just cause I know she reads this)...she's so good for me. Kim calls faithfully every night to reconfirm that we're gonna go at 6:15am and she lovingly listens to me groan up and down the hills and she keeps me motivated.

Thanks, Kim. Are you SURE you wanna go back to school to educate our youth?? [sniff, sniff]

Tales From the Scales Karaoke

OK, leave it to someone anonymous reminding me (with love, of course) that it's Tuesday and time to weigh in. To be honest folks, I've stopped weighing in because my scale is from the devil and has a mind of it's own. I can get on it three different times and it will say three different things.

BUT-- that should not have stopped me from reporting in how I was doing otherwise...and from checking in on those faithful still doing the challenge. So, I'm back. And, of course...it's time for Tuesday's Tales from the Scales Karaoke:

(sung to the tune of "Old MacDonald".........)

Katiebod stopped weighing in
A couple months ago
She'd grown real tired of
Watchin the scale
Up and Down it'd go

With a pound lost here
And a gain of two there
Loss of one
Gain of three
Every day an up/down

Katiebod stopped weighin in
A couple months ago

But on the net there was a friend
Pulling her back in
Reminding her
Of Tuesday's chore
It's time to weigh again

So she's here to say
That she's back again
Workin' hard
Walkin' hard
Every day a walkin' walkin'

Katiebod is here to stay
Until the very end....

*****************

UPDATE: The scale says I've lost two pounds this week...don't know if I trust Mr. Unreliable......but, here's what's more important:

* I've cut out sodas completely (including my beloved Diet Coke)
* So far this week, I've walked 16 miles!!!
* My clothes are looser and I feel better!

Coincidence? I think not.

Daniel was just downstairs in the kitchen playing with his Leap Frog magnets that sound out words and letters. He was getting frustrated on a couple words and I was trying to encourage him not to give up.

me: "don't get frustrated...put one of the red ones in the middle (the vowels) and put letters on either side and see if you can spell a word."

daniel: [places the letters B - O - M in the slots] funky little sound signals an invalid word

me: "why don't you try another one?"

daniel: [inserts the letters P - I - H in the slots] funky sound....Daniel sighs..... "I don't wanna do this anymore, Mommy"

me: hey! Don't give up...let's try one more."

daniel: sigh.....[slaps three letters into the holder... N - A - G]

Nag? Are you kidding me?

game: "Great word!"

Some things are just not a coincidence.

One of those moments...

I just had one of those moments. A moment in life when everything is exactly as it should be and you feel so content that your heart just overflows with gratitude.

My son awoke from an all-too-short nap, opened his door, and called out to me, "did I take enough of a rest, Mommy?"

"No," I thought. But instead of sending him back to sleep longer, I asked him to come up to my office. I had soft music playing and when I reached out to him he asked in a soft voice, "you wanna dance with me?"

And so we danced.

His arms draped around my neck and his head laid on my shoulder, we slowly spun around and swayed back forth as his long, lean legs dangled down and occasionally tapped up against my knees.

As the gentle, breezy sound of the ceiling fan whirred above, I realized that all I need in the world was right here in this house.. a loving husband taking a much-deserved Sunday afternoon nap, a sleepy, snuggly 5-year old son and a slow song to dance to.

Life doesn't get any better.

I always loved Duckie. You'll need to hit "pause" on my playlist to hear this...one of my favorite 80's movie scenes of all time:

And the Winner Is..................

Tanyetta from
Days Like These!

Thank you to all who stopped by to enter my drawing... my site meter is getting some rest after working so hard this week (not that I'm complaining...it's been GREAT!)

Please be sure to drop by again in the near future for more philosophical insights into crucial topics like bathroom renovation, 5-year old banter and my feeble attempts at domesticity.

It's must-read stuff, I assure you.

Congrats again, Tanyetta. I'll be contacting you for shipping info.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

He Gets It

As open as we are with our son about the details of his adoption, I often wonder if he "gets it." Does he really understand the process and is he as excited/anxious about our next child as we are? I think I got my answer tonight.

We were watching a show that my hubby had recorded about teenage mothers giving up their children for adoption. I got pretty emotional as I listened to their stories and realized the enormity of their decisions. Tears were streaming down my face as I overheard my husband explaining what was going on to our son.

"You see, the mommies giving birth aren't able to take care of the babies so they have chosen a new family for them to grow up in..."

"And what's next?," my son asked.

"Well, they have to find a family that is waiting for a child to love."

"Then why don't they just call us?!," Daniel exclaimed.

By george, I think he gets it.

Blog Comments

How cool to check your blog and have 140-something comments on a post (see the Bloggy Giveway posted on July 23)! Now if only my everyday posts generated that much interest. :-)

Speaking of comments, several friends have remarked that they'd love to comment but don't have an account. Fear not! All you have to do is enter a comment with the "anonymous" button selected and you don't have to be signed in. Of course, it will show up as "anonymous" so please leave your first name of you'd like so I'll know who you are.

But, that's it...that's all you have to do.

To me, comments here are like receiving a letter in the mail. It sure brightens my day!

A Trip Down...

...the scratchy musical path of my past.

I'm at my Dad's house and happened to notice a shelf in his office containing 13 x 13 snapshots of my childhood...our family collection of record albums. The edges of the albums were lovingly shredded by cats through the years and, when I spotted them, I was drawn like a moth to flame.

I immediately plopped down on the floor and flipped through the stacks with eager anticipation...memories flooding in with each one. There are the Christmas albums by various artists as well as covers featuring evertone from Johnny Mathis to Madonna. All my high school albums transported me back to my lipsynching glory days ... Bruce Springsteen, Lionel Richie, Debbie Gibson and even soundtracks like The Breakfast Club. Suddenly, I am standing in my teenage bedroom with hairbrush in hand. I was invincible. Life was a series of torturous break-up songs and I loved every minute of it.

Oh, the drama of it all.

I could resist no longer, I dusted off an ONJ and put the needle down (for you poor sheltered souls...ONJ is Olivia Newton John) The crackly-crunchy scratchy sound was amazingly comforting to hear. No digital mastering here... but, I must admit, I got a chuckle when I stood up to forward to the next song like I do so often on my iPod.

I know I struggle to breathe in the absence of my electronic music doo-hickeys...but, there's something about a tattered, battered, doodled-on album cover that fills me with joy. I may be up all night reliving album-induced memories. Days when all I needed was a hairbrush, a trusty record player and an infatuation-induced heartache to stew over...

ahhh, the good ol' days.

OK...it's time for a Bloggy Giveaway, folks. Shannon over at Rocks in My Dryer is hosting a giveaway "carnival" and I'm getting in to the game, too. Beginning today, I'll be taking entries via the comments section of this post. On Friday, July 27, I'll randomly draw a name and the winner will receive the following:

"Becoming a Woman of Grace" Bible Study
by Cynthia Heald
New, unused (extra copy that I had)

and...

A floral-designed photo album
Holds 200 4x6 photos

The winner will be drawn from comments to this post only. Once a winner is selected, I'll contact you for shipping information (shipping is included, of course!)

I look forward to "meeting" you this week and good luck!

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me...

OK, I may be the last person on the internet to view this ... um ... interesting video clip. I'm riveted, I tell you. These are inmates from the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center in Cebu, Philippines practicing Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

Perhaps if we implemented this type of activity in our own penal system, the crime rate would drop dramatically.

And, I ask you, what IS that in the white tank top?

Star Wishes and Shadow Games

It was the perfect summer evening.

My 5-year old Daniel and I were in the back yard of my inlaws with a blanket of fresh cut grass underfoot and a pitch-black sky freckled with clusters of diamond-like stars. He and I were alone in the dark with only the light from a street lamp illuminating sections of the yard. We played tag, hide 'n seek, and a "pretend we're animals" game he learned in school. Surely if a neighbor had come out and seen these two figures walking around on their hands and knees in the dark making all sorts of strange sounds they would think it quite odd.

One of my favorite parts of the evening was using the side of the garage to make shadow puppets. Our figures were cast larger than life as we fashioned alligators, bunny rabbits and even reindeer with our hands. At one point, the interlacing of our fingers and the way we were twirling them about looked like the inside of a kaleidescope I had as a kid. It was a good, old fashioned way to spend a summer evening and I enjoyed every minute of it.

Not long after, my hubby came outside and asked Daniel if he'd like to make a wish on a star. He squinted his eyes real tight and said, "I wish for transformers...the good ones and the bad ones...you know, like Megatron..." then he started to race inside the house. He suddenly stopped in his tracks and shouted, "Oh yeah! And a baby for my Mommy!"

Oh, if wishes on stars really came true....

The Fun Continues...

Let me give a quick shout-out to some of the good stuff about our trip--lest you think all I do is complain. You know "waaaaaaaaaa sand...... waaaaaaaaaaaaa hot...... waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa intertubes (yes, I said intertubes...see story to follow) OK-- good stuff:

shrimp
crab legs
blue skies
tan lines
air conditioning
sno cones
sunsets
what alarm clock?

Now, the intertube thing. We went to the waterpark today. NO SAND! Already my idea of heaven on earth. Then, I came face-to-face with my arch nemesis: a bright yellow intertube.

It didn't have a name, but let's call him Teddy for kicks. Teddy the Tube. Teddy and I met on a summer's day when life was good and all was right with the world. Our relationship seemed so full of promise... images of us riding along life's river, afloat in relaxation, flashed before my eyes. It was not to be. Instead, Teddy and I clashed as his strong personality caused us to go against the flow. As happy couples floated past us, our relational conflict became ever more apparent.

"Teddy, let's go in the same direction as everyone else," I would urge. He would hear nothing of it.

His desire to buck the system and set us apart from all the others became a barrier to our tubular bond. On the last leg, his stubborness caused us to simply spin in circles as we were continually sucked back into a waterfall and into the path of others as they plummeted full-speed toward us.

It didn't work out between Teddy and I. Perhaps he will be happier with another rider. On the lazy river of life, a good tube-to-person bond is virtually a necessity.

Tan line report: moderate

Relaxation update: in full swing

Must go make sure the alarm clock is still turned off. [insert wicked laugh here]

Greetings from The Sunshine State

I hate sand.

I'm all for the sun, the surf, the subtle blending of emerald and turquoise water as it laps at my feet...the gulls and the giggles of happy children as they race away from the water's grasp. Love it all.

But I hate sand. With a passion, y'all. There's not many things I'll actually use that word to describe. Injustice, maybe. Or greed. Yeah, I hate those things, too. But sand ranks right up there. Gritty-stick-to-ya-crunchy sand. Blech. And walking in it...well, let's just say I'm not gonna be training for the beach volleyball circuit anytime soon thankyouverymuch.

As I write this, I feel the crunch of sand on tooth enamel in my mouth. I wasn't eating the stuff. It just gets in there. Don't ask me how. I said don't ask me. OK, I might (just might) have shaken my towel out into a stiff breeze and it flew in my mouth.

You're mocking me, aren't ya?

I hate sand.

Love me some vacation with my two wonderful men folk (actually, one man folk and one boy folk).

But...

I hate sand.

More vacation chronicles to come. Betcha can't wait, huh?

Vacation....

"vacation all I ever wanted... vacation so happy to get away... vacation makes me feel special ohhhhhhhhhhh..." Did you know that I heard an oldies station playing 80's music? What in the world? It pains me to think that 80's tunes are what 1960's tunes were to me in the 80's. Sigh...

I digress.

Vacation. We're on it. (yes, I am advertising that fact...but all ten people reading this will be thrilled to know I have a wonderful alarm system and wonderfully attentive neighbors-- that and the Brinks Home Security guy housesitting for me. Yeah, that should be good. ;-)

Back to the vacation part. Or, the getting ready for it part which was pretty darn funny. In retrospect, that is. I was determined to leave a clean house. I'm not talking about just a house that was "straightened up'" I mean SPOTLESS y'all. I cleaned my hiney-hoo off all day Friday, packed all of our bags and gathered all the accessories needed for a weeklong beach trip. Once all the suitcases, baskets, cooler, etc. were assembled, we looked like a European family traveling to the states for four months. It was ridiculous.

So, our assemblage of goods is ready for loading in the dining room and I doing one last check upstairs. It's 4:00pm. Hubby is on his way home. The house is clean and I am ready to go. The love and light of my existence (my five year old child) is "helping Mommy" by carrying my cleaning supplies caddy down the stairs. All of a sudden, I hear "uh oh" and then hurried footsteps. Figuring if it was a disaster, he would notify me, I retreat into my bedroom to turn off all the lights. I then glanced over the bannister and gasped in disbelief.

My well-meaning child had dropped an open cannister of Comet (you know, bright green cleaning powder) and it had kerplunked its way down the staircase spewing forth it's contents like a barrel of gunpowder exploding. You gotta understand. Our houseplan is VERY open and there are lots 'o stairs. There was Comet EVERYwhere-- the walls, the stairs, the floor, the dining room, the entrance to the living room. And, to make matters worse, um... I mean more "challenging," the enterprising young lad had soaked towels in water (not ringing them out) and was carrying them back and forth to the stairs (which are wood) to clean it up--creating a green mush-like river across the main floor of the house.

I reacted calmy because it was an accident of course and he was doing his darndest to clean it up. It took an hour and a half to clean up the mess and to de-Comet the stairs. We then mopped them with wood oil soap to get the haze off ( a sort of light greenish haze which was kinda pretty but didn't really match the decor... :-) ).

6:00pm--left driveway EXHAUSTED.

1:30am-- drove into the driveway of the beach house.

Vacation has begun.

Friday's Feast: July 13, 2007

(to check out others "feasts", click the logo above.)

A Friday the 13th Feast...OH MY!

Appetizer: What is your favorite fruit? Strawberries.
Growing up, Mom would always slice strawberries and sprinkle them with suger. She'd store them in the refrigerator and they were always nice and juicy. Yummmmm.

Soup: Who is someone you consider as a great role model? Tough one! This one is hard because I have different role models for almost every aspect of my life. I have people that challenge me to be a better wife, mother, Christian, writer...people who challenge me to be healthy and people who keep me on my toes in the motivation department. But, if I have to name one person-- my husband, Keith. His laid back, steadfast, loyal, humorous, go-with-the-flow personality keeps me balanced. Grounded. In check. He models for me the true meaning of forgiveness every day. I want our son to be just like him.

Salad: If you were to spend one night anywhere within an hour of your home, where would you choose? Camping alongside a stream in the mountains. Camp fire, crickets, stars...sounds like a perfect night to me.

Main Course: Name something you do too often. Read blogs, I'm afraid. I have all of my favorites saved on my desktop and every day I go from one to the other to the other...then, I'm guilty of going to new blogs off those sites and usually end up adding a new one (or 2 or 3...) to my desktop and.... you see where that's leading?!

Dessert Fill in the blank: I really like ___________ because ____________.
I really like writing poetry because it allows me to express the beauty I see in the little things. Whenever I notice anything that I might want to remember about life, I either jot down notes where I am or scramble to do it when I get home. It might be something silly like a tree at an intersection or the way my husband's hands looked as he was driving or my child singing along to a song in the back seat. These are the things I want to remember down the road. So, I try to write them down. Sometimes its poetry...sometimes not. But it always captures the memory.

Things That I'm So Happy You Can't See Through a Computer: #1

Me. Lip-synching Mary J. Blige's part in "One" (with U2-- see playlist below)

I mean I'm "singing" it with all I've got, y'all.

After the Storm

I've been in a funky mood of late--very contemplative and reflective...analytical, even. Today is no exception. We have had a series of storms blow through over the past few weeks. It seems like every day has seen its share of sunshine, dark clouds, a "gulley-washer" of a storm, and then sunshine again.

Isn't that so much like life? (see, told ya...here I go again) Just 30 minutes ago, we were eating dinner while the winds whipped through the trees out back and the rain pounded down with fury. Now, a short half hour later, the sun is shining in exquisite patterns on the trees outside my window and birds are chirping back and forth to one another as if to say, "you O.K. over there?"

We all have periods of our life when it seems like everything is going along smoothly and then "wham!" out of nowhere, our life changes on a dime--much like a temperamental summer afternoon in the south. It could be small obstacles or bigger ones that have a major impact on our life or the life of someone dear to us. Regardless, it helps to know that when the storm blows in...there's usually a period of sunshine, birds chirping and relative calm on the way. My advice: always have an umbrella AND a tube of sunscreen on hand...you're prepared either way!

Wordless Wednesday

~snapshots from daily life~

300th Verbal Doodle

OK... I was planning on celebrating the 300-entry mark anyway and didn't realize it would fall on my birthday! I know 300 is a drop.in.the.bucket for some of you veteran bloggers out there...but it's a milestone for me. I wasn't sure when I started blogging that I would be able to hang in here that long but it's been fun. I've met so many interesting people and I look forward to my son having a record of his Mom's thoughts one day...thoughts that are difficult to convey to him at five years old.

And, selfishly, it's for me, too.

Days turn into weeks... turn into years and suddenly it's all a blur. I wanna remember.

So, here's to 300 posts and hopefully...many more thoughts, memories, observations to come!

ps--weight loss challenge friends... zero lost. zero gained. I'm OK with that. Now, post-birthday cake, it might be a whole 'nother story. :-)

Heavenly Thoughts

On the way out of the church parking lot today, I was looking up in the Bible the reference to the specific size of Heaven. As I was reading outloud from the book of Revelation, I was questioning unfamiliar measurements mentioned such as 12,000 stadia and 144 cubits. As always, my ever-attentive 5-year old piped in from the back seat:

"It's easy, Mom. Heaven is 20 stories of goodness."

Once again, my child's comprehension supercedes my own.

Adoption

I have blogged here for a year and a half...roughly the amount of time that we've been contemplating and pursuing the adoption of a second child. However, it never occured to me until this morning to get the "word out" here in case any of you hear of an adoption situation.

You know, we tried for so many years to have a baby and then God brought Daniel into our lives. I look back now and the timing seems perfect...but, it didn't make the wait any less painful while we were going through the process. I know there is a reason we have not been matched with a child...it's just frustrating not being able to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

We are currently signed on with an agency that ministers to birthmothers; therefore, their central focus is making sure the needs of the birthmother are met. The problem is, since we have signed on, the "pool" of birthmothers has dwindled and the ratio to waiting families makes the possibility of us adopting from them very unlikely. And, at this point, we don't have the money to adopt through an agency-- so, I come to you internet friends.

We are hoping to adopt a boy or girl 5 years old or younger but would be open to a girl up to 6 or 7. We are also open to a pair of siblings. Of course, a baby would also be a wonderful addition to our home...we just want to emphasize that we are open to older children since they are typically harder to place. As for open or closed adoption, I guess that would really depend on the situation.

It breaks my heart to hear my son ask, almost on a daily basis, "Mommy, when can I have a 'brudder' or sister?" Please think of us if you know of, or hear about, any situations that might present an opportunity for us to build our family.

Thank you, guys. You have been so supportive in other areas of my life...I thought I'd turn to you for this one, too. :-)

If you need to contact us, I may be reached via email here.

When Did It Happen?

I am the lyrics Queen. I pride myself on knowing every word. to every song. ever written. So, when did I become the old woman who watched the Today Show this morning in horror as a rock band was spewing out words I couldn't understand? To make matters worse, there were hundreds of people--of all ages mind you--singing a long like they actually knew what the kid was screaming, um, I mean singing.

"Who in the heck is that?!," I ask myself. FALL OUT BOY, one sign read. Is that a command or is it actually the name of the band? Now, for those of you much "cooler" than me, you might think it crazy that I was oblivious to this group... but here they were, on my morning news show, with throngs of fans doing the unified fist pump and I was lost. They were singing something over and over that everyone understood--except me. When did I lose my way? When did the winds of hipness and youth blow through town and leave me all alone... I must have been in the bathroom or somethin.

When it comes to music, I like a little bit of everything--pop, rock, country, rap, hip-hop, classical, folk--you name it. But, I think I know what happened.

I'm stuck.

I'm caught in that window of time between being young and "in the know" music-wise and having kids that are listening to the stuff. Something happens in the canyon of time when, to escape the sounds of Dora the Explorer and the theme song to the Backyardigans ("and we're your backyard friends .... the Back Yaaaaarrrrrrdigans..." ), I immerse myself in my favorite music courtesy of iTunes; thereby skipping all things new.

I'm sure there'll come a time when I am headbanging with my son to some current hit and he'll think me cool. But...for now, I think I'll go fist pump to some rockin' John Denver hit.

I am so hip.

Wordless THURSDAY...so far!

I'm bogged down with work right now but thought I'd post a couple of pics...mainly for Melissa who sweetly chastised me for not having a blog posted this morning. These two pics make me chuckle:

Daniels' T-Ball team... I chuckle because, of COURSE,
my child is the only one who didn't wear his cap for the pic.

My niece...because she looks SO much like my Mom in this pic and
because she is a GOOF ball. She definitely has her Aunt KK smitten.

Tuesday Karaoke: "Beverly Hillbillies Theme"

Ok, you know the tune ... c'mon and join in everybody:

"Now listen to a story 'bout a girl named Kate
She really was determined to put less food on her plate
Eatin smaller portions and layin' off desserts
Walkin every morning (yes and even when it hurts...)

A hilly neighborhood, it is...
Ups and downs
Big inclines

Well, the next thing you know, ol' Kate is on the scale
Squinchin up her eyes, afraid she might of failed
Little did she know that her dream indeed came true
She watched the needle move and it marked a loss of two!

Pounds that is...
7000 calories
A weight loss for sure

So, now you've heard the story of a Georgia girl's fight
Although she had some setbacks, she finally did it right
She's lookin' to the future with a little bit of hope
And thanks the friends around her whose words have helped her cope!

Cheerleaders they are...
Encouraging words...
Keeping her on track!"

Have a great week everyone. And for more Tales from the Scales, click here.

Loser Mommy Award

My 5 year old son is bored beyond tears today. I am plugging away at an event I'm planning and absolutely need most of the day to get some things accomplished. I laid out puzzles, I drew dots in separate boxes for him to count and write the number on, I gave him practice words to trace and, of course, he has a room and a basement with plenty o' toys at his disposal.

When all of those resources were exhausted in the first 20 minutes of the day, I gave in and let him watch a few cartoons. Surely he won't lose too many brain cells...it's just for one day, right?

He just came upstairs. Did he come to show me his number work? Did he want to recite to me the ABC's or possibly the continents or something? Oh no. He came to tell me (and I quote), "Mommy...did you know that you can save space in your closet by using the blow-up thingie that you can put your stuff in and then suck the air out and then you can put more stuff in your closet? And, know what else, Mom? It's moisture-free and bugs can't get in there or anything? You need one of those, don't ya Mom?"

My son is now a walking infomercial. I wonder if my Loser Mommy Award will be delivered personally or sent via mail?

All Sorts of Fireworks

I'm PETrified of lightning, ya'll. Friends usually razz me with their fingers all pinched together making a "kew kew! kew kew!" sound. It's bad. There's just something about the thought of a huge bolt of electricity striking me dead that, oh I don't know, SCARES ME TO DEATH. (no pun intended)

Let me insert a little factoid here:
"A single lightning bolt can be as hot as 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit - hotter even than the surface of the sun. Lightning will usually strike the highest object in area. This includes trees, antennas, a boat on a lake, or a person standing in a field. "

So, with that in mind, you'll understand why Saturday evening was one of the most terrifying nights... of. my. life.

Our friends asked us to go out on their boat with them. The sky was clear. Yeah, that lasted for about 10 minutes. Outta nowhere, a ginormous (yeah, really big) dark cloud settled over us and rain drops started to tickle our arms and legs. No worries. Love swimming in the rain. Woo hoo...swimming in the rain on a warm summer evening. Um, not so much. My friend, unaware of my abnormal aversion to a painful, lightning-related death, said "Ooh! Lightning!" My heart skipped a beat..or ten. Then another bolt appeared.

Now let's take stock of the situation, shall we? There's four adults, three kids sitting in a boat (lots of metal) out on an open lake in a lightning storm. What's wrong with this picture? Did I forget to mention that the waves are so big in the lake that the speed necessary to get us off the water quickly is requiring me to hold on to a METAL handle to keep from being tossed out of the boat. Yeah, color me the blonde with the big red target on her bathing suit screaming, "O.K. Lightning Boy! Come 'n get me!" I'm just sayin. My husband, compassionate soul that he is, is also pulling the "kew kew! kew kew!" stunt from the back of the boat. Gotta love that man.

We pull into their dock and, due to the lake being too low, we're four feet out into the water and have to wade in. The rain is pouring, the bolts are striking and the kids are fighting over who is going to let the ladder down for us to exit the Boat o' Death. Are you kidding me? A panic attack quickly approaching, I contemplate which small child I will have to toss overboard to get to that ladder.

I'll pause here. Ever wondered what you would do...how you would react...in a Titanic-like situation? The tragedy is in full swing and you have two choices...to be the coward who got in the life boat or Jack Dawson who stays behind so that the life of the one he loves can be saved? Yeah, well, I saw how I would react and ya'll, it ain't pretty.

O.K., forget the ladder, I jumped over the edge of the boat (after picturing my butt hanging off a METAL ladder that is rooted in WATER with the LIGHTNING striking around me) and grabbed my child to run uphill for cover. We made it and all were safe (yes, even the poor children who I contemplated tossing overboard. They were spared as well...no thanks to me)

But, the evening was not lost. The storm passed. We once again boarded the boat (no longer a deathtrap) and found the perfect swimming spot and enjoyed the rest of our outing swimming in the calm waters and laughing at our experience. And, to cap off a perfectly-perfect end to the evening, we were treated with a surprise fireworks display right above us courtesy of some houseboats docked nearby.

All sorts of fireworks occured last night. The first kind scared the everlovin' wits out of me and the last kind...well, they made me happy to be alive, floating on my back in a sea of darkness, laughing with friends and watching explosions of color fill the sky.

Rockin' in the U.S.A.

Boy howdy am I excited. A fellow blogger that I do not know but am SURE, based on what I've read, would be a close friend if we lived near each other... has bestowed upon me an honor. The Rockin' Girl Blogger Award. (see her comments here)

I gotta tell ya, this made my day. I write because I have to. If I don't, I'll shrivel up (hmmm, on second thought) and fade away. It's part of who I am. I'm not the funniest blogger out there. I'm not the most serious blogger out there. And, lawd knows I'm not the most informational/ educational blogger out there. But, I write about the little mundane things in my world. That makes me happy. And, to have someone say that my writing makes them happy, too? That knocks my socks off.

Thanks so much, GGW... now I get to select a few bloggers that knock my socks off. This is hard to do because there are at least 20 that I keep up with regularly.

Here goes:

• Queen of Dirty Laundry -- I loved her blog from the first time I read it. Sometimes I lurk. Sometimes I comment. But she's real. And, she's real funny. Her post about trying to explain baby making, etc. to her kids almost made me wet myself. You rock, woman.

• Overwhelmed with Joy -- she's a fellow adoptive parent whose blog has been one I've lurked on for some time now. It's pretty to look at but she always has something cool to share...whether it's ingredients, or tips, or just feelings about the adoption process. Check it out!

• My Quotidian Mysteries -- I simply love this blog. She's always good for a contest...or a touching post... her faith inspires me and she's just an all-around cool, rockin' bloggin' chick. I love her family mantra, too: "Trust God. Trust his process. Dispense and receive grace." There ya go.

• BooMama -- Doggone it. She's probably received about 50 of these things but I couldn't, in good conscience, list rockin' blogger chicks without listing the blog I do not miss, without fail, every day. She makes me hoot outloud. Love me some Boo Mama Blog. And hey, when you read hers for the first time and forget all about mine...just remember it's me that sent ya.

Congrats to these ladies...and keep up the great blogging else I'll have to really get down to business and attack my To-Do list. Who needs that kinda pressure?!

Tennis Balls and To-Do Lists

My 2 year old Golden Retriever Cassie loves tennis balls. I know that is a trait of retrievers, but this goes beyond anything I've ever seen. If she's awake, she has a tennis ball in her mouth. And, if she has a tennis ball in her mouth, she's gonna be giving me the old-fashioned staredown until I concede and play catch with her.

The funniest thing is when she has one in her mouth and I throw another one to her. She gets this perplexed, even panicked, look on her face and she drops the ball in her mouth and runs after the "new" one.

Don't we do that to some extent in our own lives? I know I do it with my time.

Like right now.

Daniel is at a friend's house for a playdate and I am bouncing around from chore to chore (or, truth be told, website to website) like a soldier on a weekend pass. Going from one thing to another without officially completing any task, I have "To-Do List ADD" of the worst kind today.

Does that ever happen to you? Please make me feel better. :-)

Billy’s Seafood

The swirling flock of gulls
Pause their flight

For a brief rest
On the dock

At Billy’s Seafood

Majestic shrimp boats
Bob up and down
On the salty waves
Fishermen donned
In crisp white waders
Unload their bounty

A day’s work is done

Inside the smell is unmistakable
Shrimp, oysters, crab
All await their fate
Gumbo or perhaps a nice Rockefeller

Outside oyster shells blanket the ground
A carpet of old homes no longer needed
A distant horn signals another arrival
The gulls beckon me to stay

Life appears simple in this world
Scoop them up, put them on ice
Make people happy
A nice existence indeed.

The Not-So Pretty Things

A friend of mine who I often consider "the male me" challenged me yesterday. We were chatting and he mentioned that he's noticed I only blog about "the pretty things." He was referring to the fact that our family missed a playdate with some friends (including him) due to my son's behavior on Sunday and that I mentioned it nowhere on my blog.

He's right. But, as I remarked to him, I don't enjoy writing about those episodes as much as I do the nice things that I want to remember for the long haul. Also, I give my readers credit for understanding that, although most of my entries about my son are touching or funny, certainly it is understood that raising a child is never without its trials.

But, the more I thought about it, it hit me that my Mom died a few years ago (before I became a parent) and I would give anything to know how I acted at my son's age and how she dealt with it. So, I hereby title this post the "Not-So-Pretty Things" post. In fact, it may become it's own category. Lawd knows I'd have enough to talk about.

Really the first not-so-pretty-thing I can remember came shortly after we brought our son home from Russia (we adopted him in May 2004). Does it count if it's sorta funny in RETROspect but not so much at the time? (which may be my friend's argument anyway--darn-it-all.)

Anyhoo, I was cleaning the kitchen and heard this loud "ka-thunk-ka-thunk-ka-thunk-KA-BOOM" and raced into the living room. It was then I discovered the tail end of a wooden rocking horse sticking out of the wall at the base of the staircase. Surveying the plaster pieces spilled out onto the floor, I looked up to find my two-year old son standing there, at the top of the stairs, eyes big as saucers and frozen at the sight of the destruction. He then turned to me and said (a new English phrase he picked up quickly)..."uh oh." He had pushed the horse down the stairs and, as relieved that I was he wasn't RIDING the horse at the time, he learned real quick the meaning of timeout.

The next was a few months later when he opened a bottle of red nail polish and emptied it in the middle of my champagne-colored living room carpet. I almost flipped my lid. But, I will tell ya that to get nail polish out of carpet, mix non-acetone nail polish remover with dry laundry detergent...make a paste and rub it in, the stain comes out. See! In sharing the yucky stuff I am able to impart my enlightening domestic tips as well. This may be a win-win afterall. (hee hee)

In the three years we've had him there have been many a time that I have prayed for patience (I know--it's the kiss of death) as well as relied on the advice and guidance of friends about how to deal with everything from tantrums to how he relates to other kids, etc. It's all one big learning process, you know?

Let's fast forward to Sunday, shall we? I am now raising a five year old that I'm pretty certain has a secret copy of my "hot button" manual and reads it in bed...at night...with a little flashlight. He also knows just enough back talk to get himself in a whole heapa trouble. On Sunday, he got mad because he didn't want to get some rest (that's code word for nap) after lunch. He was tired and I could tell he needed to chill out before our big play date that evening. He smarted off and yelled "fine!" as he went up the stairs and slammed the door. It went downhill from there. Keith went to have a discussion with him and, suffice it to say, calling your Dad a loser for getting on to you is not the best plan.

Because of his behavior (there was more smarting off that followed), Keith made the decision that we should stay home from the playdate. We both really wanted to go and see our friends but realized that parenthood involves sacrifices on many levels. So, we didn't go. And Daniel learned a valuable lesson that it's best to not use hurtful words just because he's angry.

Through it all I have learned that, although parenthood is most definitely a series of ups and downs, searching for answers, and trying different approaches to see what works, it is, bar none, the best job in the world.

(see, I can still end it sappy if I wanna) :-)

Tales From the Scales Karaoke: "I Will Survive"

O.K., everyone...it's Tuesday karaoke. Please summon up your best Gloria Gaynor and sing along with me. (Drop the disco ball and dim the lights, please.........) First I was afraid I was petrified Knew my weigh in was approaching Time not on my side But I spent so many nights Eating oh so very wrong I wasn't strong But I guess I'll carry on And so I'm back On this web space If this were done by video You'd see a sad look on my face I should have skipped that stupid snack Into my hand the cookies flew If I had known for just one second It would cause a gain of two! Oh but I I will survive As long as I have friends like you I know I'll stay alive I've got another week ahead I swear my sweet tooth won't be fed And I'll survive I will survive............Oh..........................

A Perfect Evening, Y'all

Harry, Harry, Harry.

Mercy...was tonight a ton of fun.

Last week, I won four tickets to the Harry Connick, Jr. concert at an ampitheatre here in Atlanta (or "Hot-lanta" as it's known this time of year.) Fearing it would live up to its nickname, we and our friends Jimmy and Melissa were dressed for warm weather and came prepared with a fan and plenty o' water. Turns out, we didn't need any of it. Lemme tell you, it was a perfect evening, ya'll.

Rain earlier in the day ushered in a cool evening that was breezy and overcast. Candles on the tables below flickered like fireflies in the night and the mood and relaxed and grateful. Grateful? Yes, grateful. I was grateful to enjoy the company of adults without hearing the words "snack," "transformers," or "light sabre" even once. Grateful to Harry Connick for donating the proceeds of such an entertaining show to help rebuild New Orleans--his hometown. And, most of all, grateful to spend an evening with my hubby just being myself...having fun, at ease and, yes, howling an occassional cat call at Harry down there on the stage. Hey, do you blame me?

It really was a perfect evening, indeed.

Orlando ~ June 2007

Sunshine, on my shoulders,
Makes me happy
Sunshine, in my eyes,
Can make me cry
Sunshine, on the water,
Looks so lovely
Sunshine, almost always

Makes me high...

Friday's Feast: June 22, 2007

O.K. sports fans...it's Friday and time for Friday's Feast. You can check out what other folks are serving up here. Bon appetite!

Appetizer: Name a funny habit you have.

I've revealed this in a previous post, but I absolutely must tap the side of a plane three times before boarding/taking off. No way around it. I gotta.

Soup: If you could instantly know how to play a musical instrument, which one would you pick?
It would have to be the accordian. And, I would form a killer Polka Band and hit every state fair possible. ;-) No, it'd be the guitar. Hands down.

Salad: How long is your hair? Short to medium (between ears and shoulder)

Main Course: When was the last time you forgave someone, and who was it?
My neighbor and friend, Kim, for making me walk this morning. When did I forgive her? At the top of the last hill.

Dessert: What is your favorite kitchen appliance?
My food chopper thingie. Great way to release pent up anger. Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! I feel better already.

A Quick Message...

...to the neighbor who is making me get up at 6:15 tomorrow morning to go walking.

I don't like you very much. I will afterwards. But now? Not so much.

The Five Year Old You

You are running in so many directions

Your interests unfolding

A new passion each day...

You are a baseball star, golf pro,
jigsaw puzzle-solver,
professional popsicle-eater,
bike-riding, karaoke-singing,
tree-swing swinging
delight to be around.

Your deep brown eyes implore me

Your toothless grin makes me smile

And your laughter warms my heart...

Your incessant questioning

Of the world around you

is both refreshing and frustrating

"How does that work?"

"Why does it work that way?"
"Can I try it, Mommy?"

A curiosity I wouldn't trade

For all the peaceful quiet in the world...

The five year old you

You've come so far

Yet you still have a lifetime

To find new passions

Dream new dreams

And I'll always be here

On the sidelines

Cheering you on.

I love you.

Works for Me Wednesday!

Yep, I'm an organizing junkie. The list maker. I make lists of my lists (ok, not really). But, I tried to come up with a tool for planning my meals that would inspire me to put pen to paper. So, I designed this weekly menu planner (I use it for dinner only). It provides a place for the menu and then a box to the side for notes. I use that box mostly for cookbook names, page numbers, substitutions, etc.

Now, if you really want to get your organizing "freak" on, keep these each week in a spiral bound notebook and you'll have weeks worth of menu ideas at your fingertips. Now that's what I'm talkin bout! :-)

(click to enlarge)

I had to convert it to a .jpeg to post here. If this doesn't print clearly, just drop me an email at ktbodiford@bellsouth.net and I'll email you the PDF version for a small donation of Hershey's Milk Chocolate sticks. Kidding. But I will be glad to send it to ya.

For more Works for Me Wednesday ideas, head on over to Shannon's blog.

Menu planning... works for me!

Scale Issues!!!

Got on this morning...seven pounds lost. woo hoo. or not. kept getting on to check it out and it was the same. until I noticed that the needle was returning to less than zero. so, I adjust the little dial to excatly "zero" and then it says I've gained a half a pound. And the next time it says lost a pound. who knows????

So, until I can get a new set of scales, I will say that I have done OK. Last week, not so good in Orlando (Disney junk food) but this week has been better. And, the best part is my body is telling me I'm full much sooner and in a much louder way. If I eat too much junk, I feel really yucky, really fast.

So, there. I think I'll go with the one pound loss (not as good as seven, but I'll take it).

Anybody have a good scale to recommend??? Is digital trustworthy or should I stick with the old fashioned kind??

Thanks for your advice! To see how others are doing, click here. Have a great week, folks!

I've got Spirit yes I do...I've got Spirit...how bout you?

That USED to be my battle cry...my mantra as a walking, talking billboard for Spirit Airlines. Now? Not so much.

As my son and I headed to the Atlanta airport last Tuesday to take advantage of our $9 airfare--yep, $9 one way...here I go advertising for them again--excitement filled the car. I was going to inspect properties for a meeting in January and he was getting to spend time with my sister and her daughter while I worked.

Long story short: arrived at the ticket counter 42 minutes prior to my 10am departure where I was promptly and rudely notified that they had closed the flight 3 minutes prior. What? Airlines typically have 30 minute windows for closing. But Spirit? 45 minutes. I begged, I pleaded, I offered my first born (seeing as I've never been able to get pregnant I didn't think it too risky) but no dice. She simply said, "Nope. It's closed. There is nothing I can do. It's non-refundable. You could go tomorrow...but it would be $140...and the $77 you paid for today's flight cannot be applied to any future travel." What? What? Double what?

The concept of customer service completely thrown out the window, this woman smirked at me and said, "there is nothing I can do to help you. You should have been here at 9:15." I began to explain to her that Spirit Airlines had NEVER been on time in my experience with them and I KNEW that would be the case today--she simply kept shaking her head "no."

I could feel the steam beginning to shoot out of my ears. My son, confused by the exchange, began to ask, with tears welling up in his big brown eyes of course, "why can't we go to Florida, Mom? Can we not go see Aunt Jenny, Mom?" For Pete's sake. I marched off, luggage and child in tow, searching for other airlines to get there by my 1:00pm meeting time--or even that day at the very least. No luck.

As I turned to find a place to sit while I figured out what to do, I glanced up at the departure board which now read "Spirit Airlines Orlando departure...10:10 am" I knew it! DELAYED. I went back up to the counter, requested to see the manager to which the rude woman replied, "I AM the manager." Could my luck get any worse? I'm just sayin.

I quickly pointed out that the flight WAS indeed delayed which meant I would have been there within the window and she put her hand on the desk and, in a raised tone said, "Look...that flight could be delayed for FIVE HOURS and you still would not get on." I had no words. I think I simply mumbled something about not being surprised they were so cheap and I walked off.

Let me tell you how the rest of my day went. I decided to drive. 9 hours. To Orlando. With no movie player or snack to be found. I remedied the second problem by stopping in Target where I purchased a lap desk, markers, crayons, snacks, and play doh and then we hit the road. It was wonderful. We talked, we laughed, we sang, he played with play doh and colored pictures and then fell asleep two hours out for the remainder of the trip. No whining. No complaining. He was an angel and I will savor that undivided time with him for years to come.

We had a great time in Orlando and made it home safely Friday evening. I realize that low cost isn't always the best option and that some together time can be a healthy way to reconnect with a kid that you may already spend the majority of your day with. It certainly helped us make some memories.

Special thanks to the rudest woman on the planet. Because of her unwavering commitment to poor customer service, my son and I had a GREAT time together and I'm already looking forward to our next road trip!

The Butterfly

It had been months since I had visited. As my car wound it's way through the imposing iron gates and traveled slowly down the symmetrical, tree-lined streets, I felt a sense of peace as I neared the location of my mother's gravesite.

As I pulled off to the side, my heart sank as I discovered a mound of fireants and bugs... its grainy architecture slowly creeping its way up the front of her headstone. Remembering her words, "do not fuss over my grave...I am not there...I am in a better place..." I fought back tears at the sight of how unkempt her resting spot had become. Determined to fuss over it anyway, I raced to the grocery store and picked up a gallon-size bottle of ant-killer which I used up promptly upon my return.

As I sprayed and raked, sprayed and raked, pulled weeds and tossed them into a pile, a monarch butterfly fluttered by and landed squarely on my mother's name on the headstone. The irony of this visitor was not lost on me...my mother ADORED butterflies and this one, out of nowhere, had landed on her name. It seemed to watch me and cheer me on--wings flapping open and shut, open and shut--as I worked to straighten up the mess. I soon realized that my newfound supporter had not moved...even in the face of constant motion on my part. It sat there, perched upon the deeply etched letters in her name, keeping a watchful eye on my progress.

Many will claim coincidence...and I'm sure it was probably so. But to me, that butterfly was much more. It was a reminder of my Mom. It was a peaceful presence that strangely comforted me as I wept for my Mom's absence. But, most of all, it was a sign that life goes on...and that, whatever the circumstance, and when you least expect it, something magical can happen.

As I packed up my tools and turned to walk away, the butterfly slowly danced away into the morning. It had come. It had comforted me. It had flown away.

It will always be a magical encounter to me.

Off to Alabama...

We're headed out for a visit to Dad and Jackie's house in Selma, Alabama. We're returning tomorrow and I'll post then about Daniel's new front-toothless status as well as his first T-ball game today (he did GREAT!)

More tomorrow...
Katiebod