Simple Pleasures

A simple pleasure? The first frothy sip of my latte. Mmm.

A Fall Night

It seems like fall just happened in the past week. The leaves are turning, the nights are crisp and clear, and now that the time has changed everything feels like it has fallen back into place for the winter. It feels restful. Unhurried.

I took the boys for a walk tonight through the leaves that had fallen on the sidewalks around our neighborhood. They were bundled in their winter coats, scooting their tiny feet through the piles of leaves that had been left there by neighbors to busy to rake them up. The moon was visible, the air clear. It was dark, and it felt much later than it was. My rosy cheek little ones were cold and tired. Content, begging for a warm bath and footy pajamas.

I loved it. It was the best time of my day.

A Sign of the Times

The little munchkin, Evan, wouldn't go to sleep because he had taken a nap during the day. Coral was tending to him, trying to get him to go to sleep. I was sitting down after a long day with conflicting thoughts like, "I don't think I can give up his nap time just so he will go to sleep at night." "I don't think I can have him not go to sleep at night." "What am I going to do with him!" "Why did God think I needed more patience."

As I was sitting there trying to relax a bit my cell phone rang. "Who in the world would be calling me on my cell phone?"I say to Steve as I race through the house to grab it. It is Coral. Yes, Coral. Remember Coral is upstairs in her room with the wide awake munchkin. I answer. She informs me that Evan needs changed, and she is sending him down.

The moment I hang up my cell phone I see Steve charging towards the stairs to chase Evan back up the stairs. This causes Coral to have to call my cell on her cell again. I am thinking to myself, "Thank goodness for free night and mobile to mobile calling plans."

Before I sound like I am judging Coral, I am not. I am guilty of this little convenience as well. It is much easier than standing at the bottom of the stairs yelling for her to come when dinner is ready, the house phone rings for her, etc. It just struck me as weird that we would place a call that has to bump off some satellite somewhere over Russia to reach someone on a different story of our house. That's all. Just a little weird.

Bathroom Habits

Me: "Ian, hold on a minute, and I will be right back. Mommy has to go potty."
Ian: "You don't go potty."
Me: "I don't?"
Ian: "No, you don't go potty, because you don't have a pXnXs."
Me: "Actually, mommys can go potty even though we don't have a pXnXs."
Ian: "You can????"
Me: "Yep!"

Note: I have to use X's remember to keep the yukies away.

My favorite word of the day? osmost
Interpretation? Almost

Beat the Gamas

Oh, it has been a long week. Everything this week seems to be taking three times the amount of time that it should. Today was...Fascinating in a way. I could tell you many stories from my day, like having no checks in my checkbook or elderly gentlemen running into me, but I will stick with my Jo Ann Fabrics' story. Everyone that sews decided that today was the day to go to Jo Ann Fabrics. I don't sew, but I do tie. So, I went to get some Denver Bronco material for some pillows for my nephews for Christmas. I tell the boys that if they are good in mommy's store we will go next door and get Joey a ball at Petco. I meander over to the fabric area, and it is PACKED!!@!@! I draw a number before I even get my fabric thinking there might be a delay if I didn't. I look at the little piece of paper in my hand that tells me my fate, and it is the number 9. I go to get my material and I hear..."Serving number 35 at the cutting counter. Number 35." I retrieve my little white piece of paper from Evan's sticky, sweaty hand to see if I miss read the number. Surely, this can't be right. SEVENTY-FOUR people before me. It is true... Evan speaks up then to a couple of gray haired ladies who have been there for 30 minutes and still have twenty numbers to go, "Hi gama." I sheepishly turn and tell them that is a compliment. Luckily, because he is so darn cute they smile and accept the compliment. Then I hear, "Mommy have I been good. Can we please go to get Joey a ball?" To this I respond, "Yes, Ian, you have been good. Let's go get Joey a ball." We smile politely at the older gamas and get the heck out of Dodge. Tomorrow I will rise early and set off to Jo Ann Fabrics to see if I can beat the gamas. Wish me luck. They are numerous and sewing is in the air.

Toothpaste

What can a two year old boy do with a tube of toothpaste while you think he is sleeping?

What does a mother of a two year old do with a two year old who just coated the bathroom and half of the master bedroom with a tube of toothpaste?

Stories from the Stall

I got a forward a few months back on women's experiences in public restrooms. It was hysterical, and then my mother-in-law sent me her own stall experience from her trip to Africa. I think I will ask her to share it with you. What do you think, Arlene?

Anyway, last night Steve and I went on a date, and my husband ordered me a HUGE pop. After not wanting to miss the ending of the movie I race to the bathroom only to find that many had been there before me, and it was dirty. More than the usual gross PR. After finding one that was at least flushed I proceeded to try and do the "gas station squat" as my sister and I call it. It just isn't as easy as it use to be you know! I tried to regain my standing position and my right knee locks up, and all I can do is laugh. Not hysterical or anything, but I was so amused at how many funny experiences one can have in such a confined space that I emerged with a smile on my face. Well, that is weird , you have to admit. What would you think if someone emerged from the stall with a stupid smile on their face? Don't tell me, but I looked ridiculous. Then I walk out to meet Steve, and I am still giggly. I try and explain it to him to no avail. He does not grasp the experience of women's public restrooms no matter how many times I try to explain it. For this I am actually grateful.
I then start laughing even harder thinking of my poor mother reading my next blog entry. I am sorry, mom. I just couldn't help it.
Good Luck, Ladies, with your next stall experience. Feel free to share...If you dare.

Yogurt and Butter

Yesterday I was going to tell you what a two year old can do with a container of yogurt. Today I could tell you what a two year old can do with a stick of butter, but I decided that after all I have been through with these two events I would just let you use your imagination. Any ideas on how to get soft butter out of a toaster?

New Tastes~Familiar Faces

Last night my amazing in-laws took us to a restaurant on the 23rd floor of a hotel downtown. It overlooked all the bridges and the river. We could see the harvest moon from the many windows. It was gorgeous. I had lobster for the first time. It was almost scary for me to order it. I always thought it was an almost sacred food because I remember my father taking my mother out once a year for their anniversary, and she would order lobster. It was a really big deal. She would always bring home her leftovers and would never let us taste it. It was hers. Period. She shared everything else in her life, but we didn't touch the lobster. I decided it was time in my life to venture out on a limb and try it. It was delicious.

I really enjoyed the lobster, but most of all I enjoyed the company. 3 1/2 hours later we left. I love the conversations we have with Steve's parents. Arlene is so pleasant and George is, well George. I love listening to him even though I don't understand most of his engineer style talking. My sister-in-law is always enjoyable to talk to. Steve warned them that if they weren't careful they would be the topic of my next blog entry. Well they are, but only to honor them and to say I couldn't have hand picked a better family to marry into. I love them dearly.

My Old Enemy

Twice per year my old enemy shows up on my doorstep and asks to come in. I fight this enemy with every tool I can find. I even run to the store to try to find something new that will help me ward off this intruder, but to no avail. It always seems to win, to take a week of my life.

Yesterday at noon this old acquaintance of mine showed up. Slowly but surely it worked it's way in, and now it is here full force.

Ah, the familiar coughing and wheezing. Fever and chills. Welcome back bronchitis. I hope your stay isn't long.

Stinky Blog Entry

Me: "Oh my goodness, Steve did you fart or was that Joey?" (The dog)

Steve: Blank stare

Me: "Joey get out of here. You stink."

A few minutes later...

Steve: "Believe it or not I am not afraid to tell you if I fart."

Me: "I guess I just assumed you wouldn't announce it to all of us if you did."

Steve: "The only reason I refrain from farting around you is to keep from being talked about on your blog."

Me: "Thank you. I'll be sure to write about your fear of me blogging about your farts."

Steve: Blank Stare