January Book Review

I am in such a reading slump.  I have really struggled the past two months to get through my nightly books.  Maybe it’s because it’s winter and I’m just so blah and tired by bedtime, or maybe I’ve just picked a lineup of stinkers to read, but I usually fall asleep 2-3 pages in.  It might also be because I’ve been doing Words With Friends/Hanging With Friends/Scramble with Friends on my phone and have about 5 games going that I usually get caught up on before my nightly reading, and all that thinking is obviously not good for my tired brain.

So anyway, here are my last five books.  I hope they keep you awake.

Wish You Were Here by Stewart O’Nan- Tara at Taradactyl said in her last book review that she is really loving Stewart O’Nan, especially his book, Emily Alone.  Unfortunately, my library system didn’t have Emily Alone, but it did have this one, which apparently is the sequel to Emily Alone (though it can stand on its own).  I can’t say I was crazy about Wish You Were Here, but I liked it enough that I will try to read Emily Alone when I can get my hands on a copy.  It had all of the elements I usually like in a book:   good character development, the story was told from multiple characters’ perspectives, an interesting premise and family dynamic, but since I fell asleep every 2-3 pages (darn that Words With Friends!) I really just felt like I never connected with it.  By the way, it’s about an extended family’s last stay at their mountain cottage….Emily (title character in Emily Alone, remember this is a sequel) is going to sell the house after the family spends one last week there.

Then Came You by Jennifer Weiner-Again, this had a great premise, but I just couldn’t connect!  This is about four women who are all connected by a baby:  the egg donor, the surrogate mother, the intended mother of the baby, and the stepdaughter of the intended mother.  I have to say that I don’t think this one was all me.  There was too much backstory (and I don’t usually mind that) and I really didn’t like the stepdaughter and found the intended mother’s whole background unbelievable.  Bottom line:  I wouldn’t recommend this one.

 

All is Vanity by Christina Schwartz-  Finally, I got a good one!  This novel follows two women, friends since elementary school.  Margaret has always been the overachieving star, while Letty has always been the wind beneath Margaret’s wings, so to speak.  This novel is a satirical look at vanity today.  Satire, if you remember from high school English, is when an author makes fun of or exaggerates someone’s shortcomings in order to teach a lesson.  In this case, Margaret displays vanity by wanting to be a famous author (and these are some of the funniest parts of the book, when she tries to write her novel) whereas Letty’s vanity is illustrated by her over-the-top need to “keep up with the Joneses” as she slowly works her credit cards up to an insane amount of debt, all the while obliviously making excuses for her choices.  If you decide to read this, know that the first third of the book, as you are slowly introduced through flashbacks to both women’s formative years, is fairly slow reading, but things really pick up when Margaret makes a bad decision and Letty’s expenses start to go crazy.  (By the way, this author also wrote Drowning Ruth, another good one you might want to try.)

Nightwoods by Charles Frazier-Have you read Cold Mountain by this author? That, my friends, is an excellent novel.  It was made into a movie sometime in the last decade starring Nicole Kidman, which was also good, but read the novel, please.    Anywho, Nightwoods takes place in the mountains of North Carolina and is a much quicker read than Cold Mountain.  Luce inherits her sister Lily’s twin children after Lily is murdered by her husband (which the children witness).   Bud, the husband/killer who is not convicted of his crime, tracks down Luce and the children, partly to make sure the kids don’t squeal, and partly because he’s certain that Lily has hidden a large amount of money with the children.  The novel is somewhat suspenseful, but Frazier’s gorgeous writing is the reason to read this book.  He’s the kind of author that doesn’t just tells a story, but puts it all together with vivid imagery, subtle, dry, sly occasional humor, and who, unfortunately, is not afraid to have bad things happen to his main characters.  Having read Cold Mountain and knowing that both his good and bad characters are sometimes equally “punished”, I was not entirely certain that all would be well in the end.  And I’m not going to tell you what happens either.   So there.  Nyah.

By the way, this one is not showing up on my Goodreads widget over there on the right, but I did read it!  (Actually, no books are currently showing on the widget…I’m not sure what’s going on.)

Matched by Ally Condie-This is another one recommended to me by Tara.  This young adult novel is set some unspecified time in the future, where society has become near perfect.  Most cancers and diseases have been cured, and everyone lives long (at least until age 80) because “the society” makes all of your choices for you so that they are all healthy ones.  You are matched with your spouse based on statistics, your food is delivered to you and based on your own dietary/caloric needs, every hour of your day is scheduled-- you know exactly what time your work and school hours are and even your leisure hours are programmed and the leisure choices presented for you.  Unfortunately, the society has its downside, and that is what Cassia, the seventeen year old heroine of the novel is starting to see.  In the beginning of the novel, Cassia is “matched” with her future husband, but she soon starts to fall for someone else.  Also, her grandfather, whose 80th birthday occurs days after her matching ceremony, is euthanized by the society, as the society has determined that 80 is the best age to die (before you get too sick or useless, they think).  This bothers Cassia too (but apparently doesn’t bother anyone else).  So…the book really kept me reading, but I felt like the author could have told this novel in about 80 pages (and then killed it before it started to get old and useless…hahaha!)  I found myself skimming occasionally as Cassia thought and thought and thought things through.  Geez, figure it out already and do what you’re going to do!  This book is the first of three, and I will definitely read the next one (Crossed) and the third is still being written, with publication due next fall.  It’s the next Hunger Games, people!  Get on board!

Instagram January

I’ll begin this month’s stunningly riveting review with a peek at our New Year’s Eve.  We started off the afternoon with a trip to see The Adventures of Tin Tin.  It was excellent!  There was action and adventure, humor, a mystery, and the animation was amazing.  I can’t believe this movie wasn’t nominated for an Animation Oscar.  It’s probably not in theaters anymore, but make sure you see it on DVD.  After that we headed to our favorite Japanese restaurant where the kids drank Shirley Temples this time and we successfully kept our eyebrows from getting singed.

After a visit to my mother-in-law, whose birthday is on New Year’s Eve, we headed home and played The Diary of a Wimpy Kid Cheese Touch Game.  This game is very fun, and the kids love it, but it gets hilariously out of control quickly.  Which I may not have been entirely in the mood for at 10:30 pm.

After the game was mercifully put away, we watched Bedtime Stories (with Adam Sandler) and this guy started fading even faster than me:

Finally the ball dropped, we counted down to the New Year and drank our carbonated grape juice, hit some pots and pans outside (and Dave even set off some leftover fireworks from this summer) and headed to bed.  Jack was so tired.  He cried when I put him to bed, saying he was going to miss this year so much, and that next year couldn’t be as good as this year was.  My sweet baby.

Then the kids went back to school (yay!), however, all three of them have had a turn of a day or two or three home sick this month (in fact, Maddie is home with me now as I write this).  Here’s Ben, not feeling great early in the morning, but smiling because he’s not going to school!

 

We had family photos taken for my in-laws as a Christmas present this year.  Here they are in one, posing with the grandkids:

I celebrated my birthday this month with my favorite dessert:

                 Oh, crème brulee, how I love you.  You helped me turn 33 so much more easily.

Jack and I visited the police station with his Tiger Scouts.  Oh my Lord, 17 first grade boys surrounded by handcuffs, scanners, weapons, and very nice police officers makes for some ultra-bouncy, hard-to-contain seven year olds.  When our police officer/tour guide led the boys out to the garage and even lit up one of those traffic flares for them, joy burst forth in chaos and never-ending movement and chatter. When the police car was opened up, they all fought for seats inside, and each took turns in the driver’s seat.  The photo on the left below is the Scoutmaster, pretending he’s being taken away by the police. The kids loved this!  It was a really fun night!

We enjoyed a night out with friends at a craft brewery nearby which opened up recently.  I’m not a huge fan of beer, but they have one called the Javasomething that I swear tastes like coffee!  It was good!  You can get these little sampler trays (flights) so you can taste all of their brews.  We had a great time, and hope to make ourselves do it again (isn’t it sad when you get to the age [yes---33] where you have to make yourself go out?  Or probably, that’s just me.)

I know I’ve shown you this before, but this just keeps getting weirder.  Every time Maddie holds Herbie the guinea pig…

…he arches his head back and falls into an ultra-relaxed state, and even lets you pat his belly and tickle him under his chin.  This is very unusual for guinea pigs as they are always afraid something is going to swoop down and pick them up and take them away to their nests as appetizers.  They are always alert and ready to run and hide.

But when Maddie holds him he just gets all limp and happy.  We call her the Guinea Pig Whisperer.

Thanks for sticking with me to the end.  You can see it was all worth it, just for the Guinea Pig pictures alone.  Happy January!

Swim Photo Fail

Maddie’s on our local swim team and loves it.  And you just know I’m at every meet with my camera in hand, trying my darnedest to zoom in and get that perfect shot of her popping out of the water for a breath.  Unfortunately, I haven’t even come close, because winter swim meets all take place indoors with fluorescent lighting, so everything’s slightly blurry and a little dark.

And also, neither the camera nor the photographer is the greatest.

It’s kind of freaky the way it appears that she’s looking right at me!

Even set on the Sport Setting, everything was blurry, darnit!

Nice shot of her chin and nostrils.

Hey look!  It’s Deb from Confessions of an Ugly Mom’s son, Mason!  Still blurry but he’s looking good!

Do you see any familiar faces in the crowd??

Rude, dude.

But finally last week, we had a meet at a pool with a wall of windows!

Maddie’s the one at the top of the picture.

And that made all the difference!

By the way, did you know that when you win a swim meet, you get to throw your coaches in the pool?

Good thing they all know how to swim!

I Am Crafty AGAIN!

The last time I was crafty was last fall when I made this.

And now, I have been crafty again!  Traditionally, at Christmas time, I embellish my fresh wreath with red gingham ribbon and white snowflakes, and it usually lasts me through to Valentine’s Day, because it’s not too Christmas-y looking.    But unfortunately, this year I went with a boxwood wreath instead of my usual pine wreath and the boxwood got dried out and brown way more quickly than the pine usually did.  (Sorry, I didn’t think to take a picture).  This spurred me into action.

I pulled out an old grapevine wreath and pulled all of the stuff off of it, and then gluegunned some felt flowers and hearts onto it that I picked up at Hobby Lobby.  This craft took me about 32 seconds to complete, just the way I like it.

The red heart hanging in the middle is actually a Christmas ornament I bought at Target several years ago.  I think the wreath would be totally cute covered in those red felt flowers, but there were only two packs of them at Hobby Lobby the day I was there. Maybe they’ve restocked, but I’m okay with it as it is.

I also decided to spruce up my mantle the day I was wandering the aisles at Hobby Lobby, which I normally don’t tend to do, as I am generally stuck in a decorating rut for most of the year.  But I saw this cute rose covered wreath which was marked 50% off, and then I decided to make a little garland to go along with it:


Basically, I bought these felt heart ornaments, gluegunned the little felt heart into each center, then glued them each to the ribbon so they don’t slide.  If you look at the picture above, you can see I’ve screwed little hooks under the wooden mantle.  These are our Christmas stocking hooks, so I just pulled them out of the Christmas box.

The other things that are on the mantle are there year round, no change there.   But I like it!

I think Maddie and her friend totally appreciate the wreath and garland, in fact, I’m pretty sure their Wii scores are higher, their blood pressures are lower, and they each have a warm feeling in their little hearts just knowing that lovely mantle is so near to them.

I’m totally sure of it.

How to Drive Your Mother Crazy

If you recall, in my last post I asked for some help with my writer’s block, and you guys came through with flying colors!  I requested that commenters give me any number from 0 to 8,092, and I would use those corresponding photos in my next post (this one) strung together into something of a story.  I got eight responses on here and one response on Facebook, so now it is my job to produce some kind of blogpost, stringing those nine photos together.

If this blogpost stinks, I’m blaming you people for choosing such crappy photos.  Just so you know that from the start.

So….

How to Drive Your Mother Crazy in Eight Simple Steps:

1.  Squish your little selves onto a pig, and push and cajole for the best spot until everyone is crying and someone eventually falls off.

Photo chosen by Pam via Facebook, #2011, in honor of her son Vincent’s birth year.  Thanks Pam!

2.  When posing with your siblings and cousin after an egg hunt, shake your fist at the camera and say, “Why I oughta…” real menacing.

Photo chosen by Mary, #1979, in honor of the year she got married.  Thanks Mary!  And Happy 33rd Anniversary!

3.  Massage your Cream of Wheat into your hair, and then cry when Mom attempts to clean you up.

Photo chosen by Tara, #2127.  This number does not represent her pant size.  Thanks Tara!

4.  When Mom begs you to “please smile for the camera!”, put on your shades, suck on your lollipop, and look the other way.  That’s right, my friends, do not make eye contact with your mother.

Photo chosen by Maria, #3,333.  Thanks and hi Maria!

5.  You’re at the beach, it’s family photo time, maybe even Christmas card photo time, but trust me…there’s never a wrong time to give a little shove to your brother.

                         Even when you’re thirty feet up on the railing of a walkway over a sand dune.  Go for it!

Photo chosen by Kathryn, #1217, in honor of her daughter, Jemma’s birthday.  Thanks, Kathryn!

 

6.  Wear the kitchen table on your head. 

Photo chosen by Jaime, #753.  Thanks Jaime!  (Doggone it, isn’t Jack cute in that picture?  How could he have ever driven me crazy??)

7.  Man I used to be thin.  I mean, not thin-thin.  But way thinner than now.  Hmmm.  If you really want to drive your mother crazy, show her pictures of herself when she was thinner, but thought she was fat, but really wasn’t, and then say something like, “Mom, do you have a baby in your belly?” or “I love how you’re so squishy, mom!”

Photo chosen by Sue, #1506.  Thanks so much for the reminder, Sue.  (I’m shaking my fist at you and saying “Why, I oughta…” right now).

8.  Someday you will be too big to hold your stuffed kitty while sucking on your pacifier and reading books with your sister at bedtime.  It will drive mom crazy when she sees you now, a big boy who prefers his xbox to her company, a big girl who no longer needs books with pictures, a reminder that those baby years, though challenging and fraught with frustration and boredom (on the part of the mother) are fleeting and precious. Sniff, sniff.

Photo chosen by Deb,"#40, in honor of her 40th birthday, just last week!   Thanks, Deb!

Bonus Section--Ways to Make Your Mom Happy:

1. When it’s your turn to be in the Hairdresser’s Chair, not only should you allow the girls to fill your hair with barrettes, but you can even help them by combing it out for them and making suggestions like, “Anyone want to paint my toenails?” or “Wouldn’t I look awesome in a kickin’ beret?”

Photo chosen by Stephanie, #45. Thanks and hi, Stephanie!

Choose a Picture, Any Picture!

Well, I’m stumped with a bad case of writer’s block again, so I’m going to do two things:

1.  Tell you about my weekend.

2.  Ask you to pick a number.

First, the weekend!  Dude.  It was booooring.  That’s why I have writer’s block!

Next, to help spur a blogpost for me, pick any number between 0 and 8,092.  Because apparently I have 8,092 photos stored on my computer.  Yikes!  Anyway, please pick and type a number down there in the comments and I will use the accompanying photo in the next post, linking all of them (please let there be more than one comment) to make a little story.  Maybe I will mention your name too, and you will be famous!  (In the event that you pick a number that is of a photo that has been deleted, I will go to the next photo up.)

Thanks for your help!

Beth

Friday the 13th

…is today.  Did you know that?  My friend Jenny and I went to see Friday the 13th part 29 (or something close to that) in high school once.  I’m really not sure why we even attempted that, because I have always hated those stupid horror movies.  Anyway, during the “prologue” they showed clips of the earlier Friday the 13ths, so you’d be caught up on the “plot”, and it was so terrifyingly horrible that we left and went to the other theater which was showing Romancing the Stone and saw that instead.

   vs. 

photo source                                                                                                                                  photo source

No contest, really:  Jason vs. (early) Michael Douglas, horror vs. romance, gore vs. jungle love, bloody hockey mask vs. Danny DeVito in a sweaty undershirt.  I really don’t know what we were thinking.

I’ve never really been afraid of Friday the 13th (the day, not the movie), nor was I ever really bothered by most superstitions (although I don’t walk under ladders, and I do knock on wood when I don’t want to ruin my good luck, and I don’t open umbrellas in the house, and I don’t step on sidewalk cracks, but those are not because I’m superstitious, but rather because I’m smart and caring.  My mother has me to thank for that healthy back of hers, you know.)

I googled “superstitions” for you and found out some interesting information:

-When cows lift their tails, it is a sure sign that rain is coming. Hmmm.  First of all, if you’ve lived in central Pennsylvania for most of your life as I have, you know that when cows lie down, that is a sure sign that rain is coming.  According to my mother (the one with the healthy back), it is because they want to pick out a nice dry seat for the approaching rainstorm.   Also, I’m pretty sure that cows lift their tails for a completely different reason.  And I am too much of a lady to detail that for you.

(No I’m not!  It’s for pooping, people!)

-A cricket in the house brings good luck.  False.  This one I know for sure.  A cricket in the house brings chaos and terror.  Not one child in my house can sleep with a cricket chirping somewhere (even Bug Boy).  They are all sure that the cricket will eventually end up in their rooms on their pillows or will cozy up under their covers with them.  Even a cricket in the garage must be found and returned to its outdoor home if it’s anywhere near bedtime.

-Seeing an ambulance is very unlucky unless you pinch your nose or hold your breath until you see a black or a brown dog. What?  This seems complicated (what if it’s a dalmation?) and life threatening  (no dog=no oxygen=passing out).  At least there’s probably an ambulance in the immediate area to take you to the hospital to revive you.  This particular superstition reminds me of when I was in high school.  One of my friends had a bridge superstition.  Whenever the school bus went over a bridge, she’d hold her breath and her nose and lift her feet off the bus floor until we made it to the other side.  That was all very well and good until we headed to Virginia Beach on our band trip one year and went over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge/Tunnel.  That was exhausting.  Yet exciting, I will admit.

-Place a hand in front of your mouth when sneezing. Your soul may escape otherwise.  The devil can enter your body when you sneeze. Having someone say, "God bless you," drives the devil away.  I seriously thought this was all just good hygiene and manners!  I have to say, this is quite a burden to realize that I am responsible for keeping that sneaky soul of mine from running off into the night and for keeping the devil away from a sneezing friend.  On the other hand, it is good information to know for when I don’t like someone and want to call in the devil for a few favors.

-A spider is a repellent against plague when worn around the neck in a walnut shell.  Ew.  I think I will just stick with vaccines and immunizations, thankyouverymuch.

-First is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the hairy chest.  This one is all the rage in my house right now, particularly with Jack.  He refuses to enter any room, restaurant, the car, etc. first, and will push you out of his way so he won’t be third.  Maddie and Ben used to fight him over this one, but have recently either matured or grown tired of always having to jostle around for the best order.  Not Jack though.  The other day he held out his arm and said, “You may go first, madam”, and I thought, “Oh, how cute and polite!”  And then he yelled “First is the worst!  Second is the best!”  And I realized that he had just screwed my good luck for the day.

Here are some new superstitions I’m hoping to start:

-Three kisses for mom, bad dreams will be gone.  Whining ‘bout bed?  Bad dreams you will dread.

-A toy on the floor means bad luck at your door.  Put the toy in its bin or you will sit on a pin.

-Eat your veggies, every last one, and then your homework will be magically done!

-Rub your mother’s feet with care and love, the angels will wink at you from above.

 

Happy Friday the 13th, People!  And remember this very famous and cautionary superstition:

-Leave a comment below, or have a day full of woe.

Scary, but true.

Decisions, Decisions

The shoelaces in Jack’s shoes take a beating.  Even though he got new sneaks in August, the aglets (thank you, Phineas and Ferb) had long  since broken off and the ends were all tattered and splayed out like those fuzzy little heads we used to put on the eraser ends of our pencils.

We headed to Wal-Mart to buy him a new pair.  He was thinking he wanted  blue, but when we got there, they only had baby blue, which he thought was too girly looking.  They had pretty much every other color there except navy blue, and they also had the curly ones that don’t need tying, which added yet another candidate to his ballot.

Eventually he saw a pair with flames on them and he got really stumped.  He thought they might make him run faster, so they not only looked cool, but served an actual purpose (besides the obvious shoe-tying purpose).

We stood there for 20 minutes while Jack went back and forth, making his final choice but then changing his mind, weighing his options, doing eenie-meenie-minie-mo, holding each pair up to his sneakers to see how they looked, and slowly, but surely, eating away at my patience.  I really do try, at times like these, to appreciate that these are big decisions when you’re seven.  It takes me a long time to choose a purse, or a scarf, or even a new kind of tea, so why shouldn’t I give him the chance to arrive at his own happy conclusion?  But I was getting annoyed.

Finally I suggested holding two pair together and choosing the best of those two, then holding the winner up with another pair and choosing the best of those two, and so on, until we finally got our winner, which was the red pair of curly laces.  We bought them, took them home, put them on his sneakers and…

He hated them.  He cried.  He didn’t know that they would stay so curly and would stick out so much.  He wished he would have gone with the orange pair and felt such remorse that he hadn’t gone with his gut but was instead swayed by the glittery promise of not needing to tie his shoes ever again.  I said we would go back to Wal-Mart and he could buy the orange pair (this time with his own money), and we did, and he loved them. 

That was back in December, and I’m sad to say, here’s what they look like now:

Which means <sigh> that another trip to Wal-Mart for replacement laces is on the horizon.  Dear Lord, give me strength and patience and please whisper in the Wal-Mart Shoe Buyer’s ear to order in some laces in navy, pronto.  Amen.

Knee Deep in Playmobil

About two weeks before his birthday back in October, Jack discovered Playmobil toys while on a playdate at a friend’s house.  This was excellent timing, because usually my children discover a want or a need a week or two after their birthdays or Christmas (for instance, Ben’s iPod screen shattered only a few days before Christmas this year, and now he needs to wait until August to even think of replacing it…this is our usual timing with toys).  Anyway, Jack asked for, and received, Playmobil toys from us and from many relatives.  And then two months later, Santa brought him more Playmobil, and all of the relatives came through for him big time.

We are knee deep in Playmobil.  Would you like to see a picture of my dining room Playmobil Room?

Tiny little spoons and flowers and juice cartons and veterinary instruments scattered underfoot, boxes torn open and strewn about, while the actual Playmobil table is filled to capacity and has overflowed onto my dining room table, and I see I’d better head into the dining room fast and rescue that laptop which is perched perilously at the edge of the table. 

Playmobil is awesome though. Jack will play for hours on end with his Playmobil toys, the detail in these sets is amazing, and I love the creative play they foster. 

They are a bugger to put together, however. 

Santa brought Jack the Playmobil school.  The box warns you that assembly is expected to be 120 minutes. One hundred twenty minutes, people!   Unfortunately, the box, besides being delusionally optimistic, did not predict that the seven year old owner of the toy would dump all of the pieces out, open each bag of posts, floor sections, screws (oh yes, screws!), windows, and desks/books/people/paintbrushes/toilets/flowerpots/etc. and deposit them randomly throughout the first floor of the home.

My lovely, dear Maddie enjoyed putting Jack’s birthday Playmobils together so much, that I just assumed she’d put his Christmas ones together too.  Of course, I didn’t take into consideration the fact that she would rather be trying out her new Harry Potter Years 5-7 Wii game instead of putting together hours and hours worth of Playmobil.   At one point on Christmas day, she actually did start assembling the school but gave up after getting a small section finished, frustrated that the pieces were hard to find, and daunted by the hours that this project was taking her from Harry Potter.

After a day of whining from Jack, I gave in and said I’d put it together.  I really had no idea what  I was getting myself into.  After ten minutes into what I was beginning to call “Mission I Hate This”, I tried to bribe Maddie back to the job, but she was too smart.  For the first hour of the job, I grumbled and complained, loudly and violently to anyone unfortunate enough to walk into the room.  Completely clueless, Jack hovered nearby, singing songs, chattering incessantly, and occasionally pounding out “Rock Around the Clock” on the piano while asking me every ten minutes when I thought I’d be finished, until I finally barked at him and he left the room and told Dave he was afraid to go into the dining room for awhile.  True story. 

Here’s what the directions looked like:

That’s right.  No words.  And that’s only one page out of twenty.  Twenty freakin’ pages! 

After the first half hour though, I got into the groove of the whole thing and actually started to enjoy the whole process. Around Hour Four Maddie joined me and we finished the job together.  I estimate that, including the time Maddie spent working on it the previous day, the school took about 7 hours to put together!  That’s just a tad over 120 minutes, wouldn’t you say?  And then we still had to do the Treehouse, the Gymnasium, the Merry-Go-Round, The Spy Center, The Pool and many, many more.

But look at that detail! (And try not to notice that fence section above…I obviously didn’t notice it when I took the picture.)  Take note of the abacus blackboard to the right of the picture….this is a good example of the detail in this thing.  Each of those abacus pegs needed to be found and then attached to the sliding part.)

The instructional booklet tells me I used 320 screws and 1,000+ parts to hold that sucker together, and I’m telling you, it had darn well better hold together until it’s time for my future grandchildren use it as well.

12!

Twelve years ago today, Dave and I were guests at my in-laws’ house for supper.  I was 9 months pregnant, but not due until January 20.  During the delicious meal of homemade pot pie (with my mother-in-law’s homemade noodles) I began to notice that things weren’t exactly right with me.  Things seemed moist where things should not necessarily be moist.  I felt as though I may have even wet my pants! 

I quietly checked things out in the bathroom, but I ruled out my water breaking, because I knew from watching television sitcoms that that would happen in a gush, at the most inopportune time, like when one was trying to convince the landlord that they weren’t pregnant or when one was taking a communion wafer from the priest.  This was just a mere, occasional trickle.

I sat down again, but it kept on trickling.

I nudged Dave and whispered “I think my water broke.  Or maybe not.  Shh.  Don’t tell anyone, they’ll think I’m a crazy woman.  Also, can I have your noodles?”

I ate Dave’s noodles and then we excused ourselves, headed home, picked up the suitcase, and drove to the hospital, where they used some kind of litmus test-like paper to determine that I was indeed trickling amniotic fluid, that I must have a tiny tear, and that we were to stay the night, because the baby was on her way! 

Nothing really happened.  I just kept trickling and having the occasional light contractions. The doctor gave me pitocin the next morning which was no fun and only made the contractions hurt more with very little progress, as the baby seemed content to hang out with me for another couple of weeks. Gradually things did start moving along and my sweet Madeline Elizabeth was born that evening, January 4, 2000, at 6:45 p.m.  I never knew a person could be so happy.  I had no idea how much I would love her right from the start, how the world had entirely changed for me at 6:45 p.m., and how I could feel such outrageous joy and fear at the same time. 

I cried on the way home from the hospital because I saw a school bus and knew I’d have to put her on one some day. I cried at night because she wasn’t safe inside me anymore, but out in the world which I now saw as a very dangerous place.  I cried a lot and was a little bit crazy for a few weeks while my hormone levels sorted themselves out and I adjusted to very little sleep and to breastfeeding that wasn’t going so well, and loving and cuddling and swooning over my Maddie.

She is a joy.  She’s smart, kind, caring, friendly, cute, creative, and now she’s almost as tall as me.  Booo.

Just look at those thighs!  Oh!  She was so squeezy!

Happy 12th  Birthday (tomorrow) to my best girl.  I love you so much.