*leah, post-saturday-night bath, pranced naked out of our bedroom where she had been hiding for a few minutes and said: "daddy, do i look different?" and then i heard a huge gasp . . . and i ran, and saw a little girl with a curly mullet, kind of cindy lauper/boy george style (one side long, other side really short). curls littered the bedroom floor. i couldn't help but bust up; it was tragic, yet hilarious.
wish i had a camera, because it would have been so priceless. dang, that canon! anyway, i swept her into the bathroom and did a little here-a-little-there-a-little snipping and !viola! she is a new girl. i was worried that she was going to hate it....about 13 months ago i decided to cut her hair short because it was getting pretty gnarly/nappy/dreadlocky. and right after i did it, and she saw the new her in the mirror, she started sobbing, "i look like a boy!" i answered, "you look darling and girly." she sobbed, "i look like a girly boy!"
this time around, she cried for a minute and then started dancing around. i said she was a pixie, and she loves that idea.
awhile later, as jon was tucking her into bed (he always does, and that's one of the reasons i married him, because i knew he was going to be the tucker-inner type, and as i type this i realize that i'm really missing out because the person who tucks in is the person who is the most special, but oh well...), i overheard him ask her, "how did you get this idea [to cut your hair]?" one word answer/giggle: "mulan." dang disney! funny thing number 1.5: i initially typed "damn disney," but then edited myself because i don't swear in word or in print, and only at drastic moments, i spell swear words. as if that makes it okay or somehow immune to the whole dilemma. it works for me; maybe you should try it too.
******
*we (me, leah, esther) stayed home from church on sunday because i was tired/apathetic and had a trace of a sore throat. let's just say that i needed to chill. so we chilled. and, in a moment of wanting to maintain some sunday holiness, i told leah that sunday is a day to thank Heavenly Father for our bodies and our spirits. next thing i knew, she was out dancing in the peace room, singing, "Heavenly Father, thank you for my body and my spirit." It was priceless...so I ran out and told her that I love her SO MUCH, and then she smiled and said, "Mom, when you were a baby, we were best friends." Couldn't help but think that our spirits ARE the same age, and that we ARE best friends (and no, i'm not going to be the non-disciplinary mom who helps her daughter sneak bad behavior under the dad's radar . . . i just don't think there's anything wrong with being a best friend of your kids and still being their parent figure, ok? maybe i watch too much gilmore girls.)
*************
*a few means at least 3, and i can't think of another funny thing to save my life. so, i'll tell you what i'm listening to at this very moment: jack johnson's curious george soundtrack. i went to noggin.com to print off some coloring pages for leah in a moment of desparation this afternoon, and i saw that you could listen to said album in its entirety. so i clicked, and now i'm listening for the second time. i recommend it. i especially love the sondre lerche remake and the lullaby . . . it's very mellow. ENJOY! Here's the jack johnson link.
********************
oh! one more un-funny thing: i got the most awesome table at target for $27.99 on saturday. it was 90% off in the global bazaar section. it was a minor miracle that no one else figured out that it was THAT cheap. it's a black lacquer table (shiny) that seats 6. i'm pretty happy about it. mostly that i got such a rocking deal. now all we need to do is save the $10K to do the kitchen remodel so we can fit a kitchen table into our kitchen. minor detail. i'll keep you posted.
2.27.2006
2.14.2006
2.12.2006
i think these be crazy
Dick Cheney
The woman at the California State Fair 2005 who had this emblazoned in tattoos across her chest: "These be the n****** I love" with ensuing list. (Unfortunately I didn't see it...as told by a friend, and Jon asked me to edit the word because he says it's too offensive to put on the internet. I guess I agree....it's the whole "I can call my brother a jerk, but the minute someone else says it, they're busted" thing. Get it?)
crazy yum? make this.
crazy beautiful? go here.
crazy nostalgic (and seriously enjoyed by me, right now)? dig out your old albums and live it up!
crazier than crazy facts (found on this website....and this is all quoted.)
"If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would produce enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee. (Hardly seems worth it.)
If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb. (Now that's more like it!)
A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes long. (In my next life, I want to be a pig.) **My note: this is so freakin' disgusting. Jon's comment: "No fair."**
A cockroach can live up to nine days without it's head before it starves to death. (Creepy. I'm still not over the pig.) "
crazy cute: just one click away
The woman at the California State Fair 2005 who had this emblazoned in tattoos across her chest: "These be the n****** I love" with ensuing list. (Unfortunately I didn't see it...as told by a friend, and Jon asked me to edit the word because he says it's too offensive to put on the internet. I guess I agree....it's the whole "I can call my brother a jerk, but the minute someone else says it, they're busted" thing. Get it?)
crazy yum? make this.
crazy beautiful? go here.
crazy nostalgic (and seriously enjoyed by me, right now)? dig out your old albums and live it up!
crazier than crazy facts (found on this website....and this is all quoted.)
"If you yelled for 8 years, 7 months and 6 days you would produce enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee. (Hardly seems worth it.)
If you farted consistently for 6 years and 9 months, enough gas is produced to create the energy of an atomic bomb. (Now that's more like it!)
A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes long. (In my next life, I want to be a pig.) **My note: this is so freakin' disgusting. Jon's comment: "No fair."**
A cockroach can live up to nine days without it's head before it starves to death. (Creepy. I'm still not over the pig.) "
crazy cute: just one click away
and that's it for now. what do you think be crazy?
2.10.2006
A V-Day Poem for all the ladies in the house
especially jet set carina and this post. I say you beat him to it:
FORTY SOMETHING
She says to him, musing, "If you ever leave me,
and marry a younger woman and have another baby,
I'll put a knife in your heart." They are in bed,
so she climbs onto his chest, and looks directly
down into his eyes. "You understand? Your heart."
--Robert Hass (yes, one of my fave poets, and the ex-poet-laureate of the usa)
p.s.: at valentine's day at vaca high (where i taught for 2 of my teaching years), i shared this with my students, along with some pablo neruda that was far too steamy for horny high schoolers. I thought they'd like the violent side of love with this one, but I think they just thought I was a bit scary. One of my bad judgment calls as a teacher.
FORTY SOMETHING
She says to him, musing, "If you ever leave me,
and marry a younger woman and have another baby,
I'll put a knife in your heart." They are in bed,
so she climbs onto his chest, and looks directly
down into his eyes. "You understand? Your heart."
--Robert Hass (yes, one of my fave poets, and the ex-poet-laureate of the usa)
p.s.: at valentine's day at vaca high (where i taught for 2 of my teaching years), i shared this with my students, along with some pablo neruda that was far too steamy for horny high schoolers. I thought they'd like the violent side of love with this one, but I think they just thought I was a bit scary. One of my bad judgment calls as a teacher.
2.09.2006
don't have much to say...so why am i saying nothing?
I've wanted to post this quote for a long time, but just haven't. Don't know why. Sometimes I squirm at the "quote" culture. But this one is well worth it. Memorize it:
"Courage for the great sorrows in life, and patience for the small ones. And when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake." --Victor Hugo
oh, and that crappy drawing of my family is done by yours truly. someone (beccalecca) asked if it was leah's drawing. so i'm not much of an artist....and i didn't scan it in just for my blog. i had it in my computer because i sent it to my jonnie-o-jonnie at work so he could see that i was doing something semi-educational (making books) with our daughter. she's bound to be an english major.
"Courage for the great sorrows in life, and patience for the small ones. And when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake." --Victor Hugo
oh, and that crappy drawing of my family is done by yours truly. someone (beccalecca) asked if it was leah's drawing. so i'm not much of an artist....and i didn't scan it in just for my blog. i had it in my computer because i sent it to my jonnie-o-jonnie at work so he could see that i was doing something semi-educational (making books) with our daughter. she's bound to be an english major.
The way it is...
Leah really wanted to write books on Tuesday. She wanted me to write one too. And this is my book. We bound them with yarn and she's been carrying her book around with her ever since. It has pictures of her best friends, our family, Dora's house, and her pillow. Oh, the brown squiggles in the upper right hand corner of this picture say "rachel."
2.06.2006
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy
If you want to read about/see a beautiful birth experience, check out my dear friend's blog. Chantel, you're amazing! Congratulations!
2.05.2006
friends and fellow country[wo]men
I had a glorious weekend and I must tell you why:
*I left home Friday (toute seule) at 10:00 a.m. and drove to San Fran. The drive was so beautiful. No traffic. Greenest of green. February is one of the most beautiful months in California, and so I felt obliged to document the verdancy on the way down. I was taking pics with my camera as I was driving 85 mph on 80 (and even 90+ once). Oops. not a good idea. But I enjoyed every minute of it. (The pictures didn't turn out very well, but that's o.k. The act was more important than the result.) As I neared the Bay Bridge Toll Plaza, I realized I was accidentally in the FAST TRAK (intentional misspellings drive me crazy!) lane, and since I don't have a fast trak pass, I needed to get over--and quick. I guess I used my best pleading eyes, and a nice gentleman in a blue truck waved me in. I felt so thankful to this stranger . . . and then I remembered that I've always wanted to pay someone's toll, but really never had a good excuse to do so. (NOTE: sometimes no excuse is the best excuse, but somehow i had never thought of paying someone's toll for no reason while I was at the toll booth before.) So I told the worker that I wanted to pay the "guy-behind-me"'s toll; he totally got this happy look on his face and said, "I'll be sure to let him know you did it!" After I was let through, I went pretty slowly, staring intently in my rear view mirror. I saw the incident play out behind me and I was so happy. Like almost dancing-a-jig happy. And then I sped up really fast because I didn't want to see the guy in the truck; the anonimity was somehow more refreshing than an awkward wave on the bridge later on.
*I spent a day at the SF Gift Center, hobnobbing with other buyers and the agents of some of the lines I intend to buy for my darlybird biz. It was fun and envigorating to feel like I was entering the world of business, even though I kind of feel like a sham. Meanwhile, Jonnie was being a fab husband and father---taking sick girls to the doctor, and then to the wildlife refuge in Davis, then to In-N-Out Burger (have I ever told you how Estie sees the in-n-out sign and starts frantically giggling? First time it happened, she was barely 12 mos . . . says no words, but can sure express pure joy and anticipation for her favorite patty joint. [No buns for these wheat-free girls.] I started laughing hysterically and had to call jon at work immediately. He was a proud father---even though he goes vegetarian-style every time!)
*Tho it was fun to be alone, I was so thrilled to pick up Susannah, my fabulous older sister, at the CalTrain station (fresh from Palo Alto) and then meet up with Phoebe, sister in Zion, and Eroo (emily ann cox, another friend for life) a little bit later. A delicious dinner at La Taqueria (forgive the frighteningly drab name and go there next time you're in san fran . . .25th and Mission . . . the tacos DO NOT disappoint!) After saying hasta to the eroo, the three of us drove to North Beach and drove around for 30 minutes looking for a parking spot. We would not be denied Stella Pastry!!! We found a garage that charged $3.75 for every 20 minutes. After telling garage attendant to take good care of Phoebe's "ghetto mobile" (she named it, I just repeated her)--and not do anything Ferris Bueller style, we enjoyed patisserie---but quickly. Time is of the essence when you're paying through the nose for parking. And then the attendant tried to rip us off by over-charging us. We didn't realize it until we were pulling away, but I still got out of the car and confronted him about his oversight. He tried to hold strong on his claim of more-minutes-than-we-were-actually-there, but I won out. Ah yeah! Fight the parking garage attendant power!
*The hotel room was so quiet that night. It was surreal to sleep a night without children, and the sleep interruptions thereof. Divine!
*Next morning, back to the Gift Fair with a few serendipitous moments, or at least a lot of great possibilities, and a whole lot of fun to be with my chica-friends/sister. And then a good karma moment at the parking garage with a lost ticket refound, and a great ride home singing at the top of my lungs along with my special "San Fran" mix I made the morning prior.
A few truths found out on this trip:
--Practicing "random acts of kindness" makes me so happy I could scream.
--It is ESSENTIAL for ME (all women? maybe not) to get out and away from my normal routine every once-in-a-blue-moon or more and just be me--no kids=no restraints.
--Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I totally missed my cute little family---in a very GOOD way. It was actually the longest I've ever been away from my children. EVER. Isn't that bizarre? On the way home I saw a white owl flying over the causeway, and it reminded me of Esther. I think the only similarity is that they are both ? I don't even know if there is a similarity.
And now that I'm back in the grind, with Leah giving Esther zerbs on her naked butt (oh my!) right now, and Esther screaming (and barfing and coughing in the night), I kind of miss my hotel room. But there will be more opportunities for freedom. Right now, I've got to go tame the wild things.
*I left home Friday (toute seule) at 10:00 a.m. and drove to San Fran. The drive was so beautiful. No traffic. Greenest of green. February is one of the most beautiful months in California, and so I felt obliged to document the verdancy on the way down. I was taking pics with my camera as I was driving 85 mph on 80 (and even 90+ once). Oops. not a good idea. But I enjoyed every minute of it. (The pictures didn't turn out very well, but that's o.k. The act was more important than the result.) As I neared the Bay Bridge Toll Plaza, I realized I was accidentally in the FAST TRAK (intentional misspellings drive me crazy!) lane, and since I don't have a fast trak pass, I needed to get over--and quick. I guess I used my best pleading eyes, and a nice gentleman in a blue truck waved me in. I felt so thankful to this stranger . . . and then I remembered that I've always wanted to pay someone's toll, but really never had a good excuse to do so. (NOTE: sometimes no excuse is the best excuse, but somehow i had never thought of paying someone's toll for no reason while I was at the toll booth before.) So I told the worker that I wanted to pay the "guy-behind-me"'s toll; he totally got this happy look on his face and said, "I'll be sure to let him know you did it!" After I was let through, I went pretty slowly, staring intently in my rear view mirror. I saw the incident play out behind me and I was so happy. Like almost dancing-a-jig happy. And then I sped up really fast because I didn't want to see the guy in the truck; the anonimity was somehow more refreshing than an awkward wave on the bridge later on.
*I spent a day at the SF Gift Center, hobnobbing with other buyers and the agents of some of the lines I intend to buy for my darlybird biz. It was fun and envigorating to feel like I was entering the world of business, even though I kind of feel like a sham. Meanwhile, Jonnie was being a fab husband and father---taking sick girls to the doctor, and then to the wildlife refuge in Davis, then to In-N-Out Burger (have I ever told you how Estie sees the in-n-out sign and starts frantically giggling? First time it happened, she was barely 12 mos . . . says no words, but can sure express pure joy and anticipation for her favorite patty joint. [No buns for these wheat-free girls.] I started laughing hysterically and had to call jon at work immediately. He was a proud father---even though he goes vegetarian-style every time!)
*Tho it was fun to be alone, I was so thrilled to pick up Susannah, my fabulous older sister, at the CalTrain station (fresh from Palo Alto) and then meet up with Phoebe, sister in Zion, and Eroo (emily ann cox, another friend for life) a little bit later. A delicious dinner at La Taqueria (forgive the frighteningly drab name and go there next time you're in san fran . . .25th and Mission . . . the tacos DO NOT disappoint!) After saying hasta to the eroo, the three of us drove to North Beach and drove around for 30 minutes looking for a parking spot. We would not be denied Stella Pastry!!! We found a garage that charged $3.75 for every 20 minutes. After telling garage attendant to take good care of Phoebe's "ghetto mobile" (she named it, I just repeated her)--and not do anything Ferris Bueller style, we enjoyed patisserie---but quickly. Time is of the essence when you're paying through the nose for parking. And then the attendant tried to rip us off by over-charging us. We didn't realize it until we were pulling away, but I still got out of the car and confronted him about his oversight. He tried to hold strong on his claim of more-minutes-than-we-were-actually-there, but I won out. Ah yeah! Fight the parking garage attendant power!
*The hotel room was so quiet that night. It was surreal to sleep a night without children, and the sleep interruptions thereof. Divine!
*Next morning, back to the Gift Fair with a few serendipitous moments, or at least a lot of great possibilities, and a whole lot of fun to be with my chica-friends/sister. And then a good karma moment at the parking garage with a lost ticket refound, and a great ride home singing at the top of my lungs along with my special "San Fran" mix I made the morning prior.
A few truths found out on this trip:
--Practicing "random acts of kindness" makes me so happy I could scream.
--It is ESSENTIAL for ME (all women? maybe not) to get out and away from my normal routine every once-in-a-blue-moon or more and just be me--no kids=no restraints.
--Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I totally missed my cute little family---in a very GOOD way. It was actually the longest I've ever been away from my children. EVER. Isn't that bizarre? On the way home I saw a white owl flying over the causeway, and it reminded me of Esther. I think the only similarity is that they are both ? I don't even know if there is a similarity.
And now that I'm back in the grind, with Leah giving Esther zerbs on her naked butt (oh my!) right now, and Esther screaming (and barfing and coughing in the night), I kind of miss my hotel room. But there will be more opportunities for freedom. Right now, I've got to go tame the wild things.
2.02.2006
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