Category: Family

Valentines Drama

.Reading time 7 minutes.

On Monday Gene asked if I want to go out for Valentines
night.  At that time, I was feeling for some inexplicable reason not really
in the mood.  It was probably because I
had already purchased strawberries for Valentines evening and had big chocolate
dipping plans.

On Valentines morning I realized that, Oh wait, this is a Holiday to celebrate
love, and I had not a card or even a shred of anything resembling a nice
gesture for my husband. (I did nag him about some fencing, but I don’t think
that counts as a nice gesture)  I knew
myself well enough to know that last minute running to a store to buy a card
wasn’t going to happen, so while he was on his way out the door, I mentioned to
him please don’t get me anything, because I got you nothing.

We shared a nice little moment of understanding that our love would not tank
even if we didn’t really celebrate hugely. (Namely by exchanging cards for
roses)  We’ve also kind of adopted a
family night tradition with Valentines.
It is a Big Deal to Elena.  I was
good with doing the family thing.  No I wanted to do the family thing.

Fast forward to suppertime.
I made a meal of tiny bites. Tiny barbeque sandwiches, shrimp, tiny
salads at every plate.  Tiny little
chicken bites wrapped in filo.  Elena was
in charge of the décor.  She had
completed her own valentines weeks ago, and was stressed out trying to get her
little brother to care.  She forced him
to make one for Madi, and then he petered out.

We sat down and had prayer.  The meal
spiraled downhill from there.  Gene had
bought those candy necklaces on a stretchy string.  (double gross yuck yuck, I am not fond of
them)  Madi saw them and was not having
any other type of food.  She started out
by flinging her shrimp on the floor.
Loud crying.  Screaming. Taking a
bite of sandwich.  Spitting it like it
was gagging her.  She was sent to her
room.  Gene asked if she had had a nap. I testily answered “yes”.

Brandt suddenly became torqued that his valentine from Elena didn’t have
chocolate with it like Gene and mine did.
He kept saying rude (but funny) things about it.  THE CHILD DOES NOT EVEN LIKE CHOCOLATE, but he
was so upset that Elena chose to give him a pencil instead of candy.  It was a lose/lose situation.

Dessert was my chocolate dipped strawberries, and regular strawberries.   Brandt asked if he could please have cereal
instead. We said no.  YOU WILL EAT THOSE
STRAWBERRIES AND YOU WILL BE HAPPY, SON!  Madi joined us again at the table.  She ate nothing for supper, and then she
sneaked a candy necklace and we pretended not to notice.

By 7:00, the children had abandoned the table, and I was left with a messy
kitchen.  Gene was having problems with
the silo, and had to go climb it.  I sat
down and thought Really, I said No to a
date night for this? Can’t I go back
in time and change my mind?

I cleaned up the kitchen while the children tore apart the
living room.  And so that ended my 2012
Valentines day.  It was kind of like
expecting a baby kitten, but getting a baby gerbil instead.

And I tried to stay off of facebook because everybody else seemed to be having the time
of their lives.

I learned my lesson.  I will never say no to a date again.

Now if you’re wondering if I’m the kind of person who always
has horrible things happen to them, and is a real Debbie Downer, its not
true.  I usually choose to write about
the less glorious things in life.

Stephen King was asked once why he always writes horror stories, and he said “What
makes you think I have a choice?”  That’s
how I feel.   I physically cannot tell a story about myself
that ends glowey.  Don’t feel bad, if something wonderful would have happened last night, there
would be no post today because that’s just no fun .

And so I’ll end with some pictures.
Captured by myself and my offspring.
Do you know the feeling when you want to make sure people KNOW that you
suck at something, and you want them to know that You Know you suck?  That’s how I feel about photography.   I feel
compelled to post the most awful pictures of myself. Please forgive.


Our table, with our youngest daughter wearing a swimsuit.
Because thats what she wears every day lately.


The Happy One

The One with the Smeary Mouth


Titled:  Motherhood makes me Glow. or
 It will be a happy day when Andreas Triple Chin Resumes is Status as a Double  or
Elena please stop playing with my camera!


Titled
The Magical night  or
Husband Drapes over Wife or
What is that Cool New Sepia Tone?

Real Time

.Reading time 6 minutes.

Most times when I write, I don’t get it posted until at
least a couple weeks later.  So if you
are of the sensitive sort that can’t handle when some the statements I say
aren’t exactly true, like “yesterday I was talking to friends” actually it
wasn’t yesterday.  By the time it gets
posted it was like weeks ago.  It is the
way I roll.

Anyhow, for me to write about what I do day to day, is
really hard for me, I’m not sure why.  It
just seems dull, like everybody will fall asleep while I explain my fixation
for my daily coffee.

But today, my friends I am writing in Real Time.  Written and posted on the same day.

Should I tell people that I lost my camera? It’s true.  I lose cameras. I buy a new one.  I break it.
I buy another new one, and a child drops it into the bathtub.  This is my third camera in a year’s time.  This makes my husband very frustrated. Can you believe it?

Shall I tell people how first grade is kicking my butt?  Right now I want my little preschooler back,
who is sweet and helpful.  Why the snark?
Why the tears? Why the incessant whining for an ipod?  This week we (me and Elena) are this close
(imagine my fingers are pinched together) to having a crying melt-down every
single day.

Can I tell you of the many mishaps my husband’s family has been having?  In November my sister-in-law had a preemie
baby, born at 27 weeks.  My SIL nearly lost
her life as she hemorrhaged.  A tiny baby
boy was born, 2 lb 3oz, and finally this week little Jevon has finally come
home weighing a whopping five pounds.  I’m
not even being sarcastic by saying “whopping” because that’s how it feels to
me.  I can’t believe he has doubled his
birth weight!  I can’t believe the
miracle of life, and how these tiny babies can survive and develop even if you
wished they would have stayed in utero longer.

The day he gets released from the hospital the phone rings, and we hear the
story of Gene’s nephew who was on a mission trip to Haiti, and after arriving,
was robbed, and then shot in the stomach.
So the last few days it feels like I’m on the computer searching for
updates, wishing there was something we could help with.  And I am amazed that with the fallout of the
shooting, things “Just happened” that Chad’s life could be spared.

I will tell you that I am a person who lives and let’s live.  If someone near and dear to me is having a
hardship I am not the first one
knocking on their door with a covered casserole.  I value privacy, and am an introverted
loner.  I have been realizing though,
that this is not the best way to live.  I
felt like God calling several months ago, to do more reaching out to others
instead of shrinking back in fear.  Do
the awkward thing, and invite people over, offer to bring meals, and stretch
myself. By golly, though I didn’t mean for everyone in my family to start
having super-stressful lives.

And right this instant its 5:00 pm and I should be making supper, but I decided
pancakes and eggs will be good enough for tonight, and that I can afford to
keep on writing.  The kids are upstairs
running and yelling with their cousins who dropped by to play.  I am ignoring them.

My life is good, but now I’m in a little bit of a winter.   You
know when you list all the things you have going for you, and intellectually
you know you have it SO good? Yet, you still feel a little lost?  That’s me right now.  I’m looking forward to spring.

And now it is 7:00, the pancakes have been eaten, my husband is working late
tonight.   I’m settling down with Elena to watch The
Biggest Loser.  Clearly I am not so busy
feeding the hungry, needy people that I have no time to bond with my eldest
child over people’s “weight-loss journeys”. (most over-used phrase on the show)

And now it is 10:00 and the children are all soundly sleeping.

Good night.
And God bless.
Especially after you read this somewhat depressing play by play of my evening.