Almost there

I'm glad you thought it was funny that I wet my pants at the park. I'm just hoping you would continue to laugh if I told you that I wet my pants again-- this time on the treadmill at the gym as I was nearing four miles. I need help? Pleeeaaase. Tell me something I don't already know. Needless to say, I was doing kegels like a crazy woman all the way home from the temple yesterday, which is like three hours. And no, I did not go to the temple seeking answers regarding my pelvic floor muscles. Can you imagine what would happen to me if I had another baby before getting back "in shape" down there? I'd be wearing bloody depends at the tender age of 30! Anyway...




Oh my heavens. I'm so excited to start working in my yard again. I always liked working in the front yard as a kid. I remember planting a lawn for the first time in our Prince Lane house and not being able to wait to mow that bad boy. I remember that these little tufts of bright green grass would start to push up little patches of the manure and there was little I could do to keep myself from popping the little cow pies off the top of the tufts, because I was so excited to see the grass. Doing that was really bad because the grass was still very fragile and not ready to be exposed to the sun. The tops of the blades of grass were white, and left unbothered by weird ten-year- old girls, would eventually become green and strong and push through the manure when they were good and ready. Anyway, mowing a nice green lawn has always given me the same high (if not more, because of the chance of getting some sun) that vacuuming does. I can hardly get enough of it. So I'm just super excited that the time of year has come when we can start mowing the lawn and planing flowers again! (Brian usually mows the lawn--and that's the way he prefers it, so if I want to do it, I have to do it while he is away. I guess my lawn mowing skills are not quite up to his standard.) I just recently went to Costco and got my first round of little color spots for my yard. Oh, and I got the most darling little miniature Canadian spruce trees to put on either side of our garage. (I can't wait to have a house whose garage does not face the front.) They have this bright green fuzzy new growth all over them that is so fabulous. I had planned on shaping them into topiaries, but now I'm thinking I may just leave them the way they are. What do you think?




And Camp had a good ol' time making a fort--pardon me--a "squirrel trap" in our yard the other day. Can you see the duct tape with the leaves stuck to it? I know it all makes our yard look like the ghetto, but it is so worth it to have Camp playing outside. Isn't that the kind of stuff that little boys are supposed to do? I love it.

Progress

So I haven't been able to come up with anything to write about lately. Why is it that sometimes I can't fit all of my thoughts in my head, and sometimes I'm just wishing there were any up there.
Things are good with us. We are all healthy and happy and Brian continues to have the work he needs to provide for us. We have felt so grateful for the work that Brian has had--especially considering the nature and the origin of this recession. For the last several months, he has been the general on the new dentist office of our good friend (and next-door neighbor) Brian Holmes. I swear, Brian and Tammy Holmes would be able to get into heaven just because of the wonderful things they have done for our family. I've always considered them our benefactors. They have always had work for us when it has been needed and they have been so amazingly generous to us in so many ways. I can't wait until the day when Brian and I are able to do for someone else what Brian and Tammy Holmes have done for us...
Speaking of Brian and Tammy and their generosity...Every year they give Brian and me tickets to attend the Rotary Auction and Dinner. Many years they have not even been in town to attend themselves, so they have just gotten us a bunch of tickets to give to other couples to attend with us. Anyway, this year they were able to make it, so we attended it with them and two other couples they had invited. So we're sitting there at the table a couple weekends ago and I experienced the same scenario that has been played out so many times in my life--I am chomping away at my food and the thought occurs to me to take a breath and look around at the other plates at the table...Did everyone get their food at the same time? Yep. Did everyone get about the same amount of food? Yep. So what a strange phenomenon it is that my plate always seems to be nearly empty so much sooner than everyone else's! I've told you before how much I eat--and that is embarrassing enough. But the fact that I eat as fast as I do is almost more embarrassing. Why haven't I yet been able to establish a relationship of trust with my food? My food has always remained faithfully on my plate--even when I have bent over to scratch my ankle or paused to get a drink of water or speak for a moment, etc., but still I find myself obviously subconsciously worrying that my food is going to run out on me. I just don't understand it. What I do understand is that being a mother has not helped the problem. I find that I have about a 30 second window in which to eat my own food--the time between my filling the last person's plate and everyone needing more cheese, a refill, a spill wiped up, a smaller fork--you all know how it works. But anyway, that is beside the point. I still need to slow it down BIG TIME. And it's always these times of self-reflection that the haunting words of my parents echo in the back of my head...Learn how to whisper! Learn to treasure silence! Take smaller bites! Take smaller bites! That's it! Why haven't I ever listened? I don't know, but I'm going to start.
And last week wasn't the greatest of weeks. I was in charge of an Enrichment Activity (which went well--I think) which is always a bit stressful. But I don't think that was it. I think it was the fact that I wet my pants while we were at the park. I had just left Brian's shop--checking the progress of the armoire--and had decided to let Jane and Danin play at the park in the half hour or so we had before needing to pick Camp up from preschool. And as I was getting out of the van, I realized that I really needed to go the bathroom. (By the way, this story is a perfect example of why doing those Kegel exercise things would really have been a good idea for me. Anyway...) The thing was, the bathroom was like 100 yards away, and it is NASTY. I would have had to hold Jane and Danin on top of me while I emptied just so that they didn't touch anything. It's seriously sick. And they don't have soap. Sooooooo, I just did what any resourceful mother would have done--I looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then I squatted down right there by the van and started letting it go. The only problem was that the coast suddenly became unclear (is that what you'd say?)and I had to try and whip my pants back up in time to spare some innocent passers by an indecent exposure. So anyway, because my muscles down there are shot, the urine just continued down my leg, all over my pants and into my sock and shoe. Nice. Unlucky for me, I had forgotten the diaper bag with the change of clothes FOR ME inside it, so I did again what any person would to do and I climbed back into the van, took off my wet clothes, and drove home half naked. Thankfully, I did not get pulled over for speeding like I did a month or so ago. That would have been interesting... And I know--the irony of the situation is perplexing even to me. I don't want to go potty in a nasty bathroom with no soap, but I will readily pull my pants down and go right in the middle of a parking lot? And what kind of person does that, anyway?! Welp. I just happen to know the answer to that one: the same kind of person who inhales her food at the Rotary Dinner. Sigh. Another thing to work on in my quest to become amazing.
Thankfully, my Sunday was much better than my Friday, though. Justin and Rachel were visiting Chris and Sonya, so we got to join all of them for the day. Going to Chris and Sonya's ---especially while Justin and Rachel are visiting--always makes for a good time. There is tons of space and it is totally relaxing. Thanks, guys.







And the armoire? Oh, it's coming along just swimmingly. I think we've pretty much decided that we're going to rough it up a bit once it's done, but I still haven't decided for sure what color to stain it. At this point, I'm thinking maybe I'll stain it (or have Brian stain it, rather) the same color brown as the bookshelves but then put a black glaze over it. We'll see... It won't be long now!

I'm going to bed.

I really had good intentions to write something interesting tonight, but anything even remotely interesting escapes me at the moment, so I'm going to bed. I will tell you that my girls' reunion was as expected--fabulous--albeit a bit too short, and now I'm back to real life. A good life, thankfully.

P.S. Did I ever mention that Brian got me my own drill kit for Christmas? I LOVE it.

I've got connections.

I have to admit I've always felt a little bitter toward people with connections. (Jealousy alone could likely keep me out of heaven, if I'm not more careful...) Do I get free cookies because my family member owns a bakery? No. Did I never have to apply for a job because I was always able to work for my dad's company? No. Do I fly free because so-and-so that I know works for the airlines? No. Do my kids get lots of great hand-me-downs because I know some stylish person with kids just older than mine? No. Do I get free stuff and money for education because my grandpa was an Indian? (Dang it, Grandpa.) No. Do I have perfect, sparkling white teeth because my dad's a dentist? No. Do I get to go to fun, exciting places because I "know someone"? No. I take that back. I do know my mom, and I do get to visit her house this weekend with my sisters which will definitely be fun and exciting, but you know what I mean...Can you feel my bitterness?
But you know what? It turns out I've got the biggest hook-up a girl who loves to decorate could ever hope for--a husband who builds furniture. Man, I love it. And you know what he is working on now? A new armoire. I told you how Brian is saving for a big LCD TV, right? Well, I told him that the only way I will let him get one at all is if he builds a new armoire to house it. That's fair, right? So this is how it works. I draw a rough sketch of what I want, (or in this case, I find a picture in a magazine) and Brian drills me about every detail, and then he makes a real drawing to scale. Brian always gets a little frustrated at some point in the design phase, but I love it, and he loves it when he gets to start building. So anyway, here are some pictures of the design we've decided on. Brian is at the shop working away as we speak--I mean as I type...(The little sliver of an armoire to the far left in the magazine picture was my inspiration this time. Wouldn't it be rad to have a dark colored armoire in a kitchen of light cabinets? Brilliant! My aunt Deena taught me the coolness of accenting your primary cabinets with an island or section of decorative cabinets of a different stain or color. Someday...) I was thinking that Brian's sketches alone would be really cool decorative art in our home if I were to have them matted and framed really nicely. Anyway, I have no room to be bitter anymore. I feel like the luckiest girl alive. I'll post pictures of the finished product soon. Brian said he could be finished by April 2nd, on which day I will be hosting Book Club. Do any of you want to read A Girl Named Zippy with me? Sarah recommended it, so it's sure to be a winner, and I'd love to have you all join us.

P.S. I lied. I did have a connection one time. When I worked at the Gap, I was able to get some canvas-covered drawing books that had been used in props. Does anyone remember the yellow book?