Random Randomness

Greetings from the great state of Mississippi. Or something like that. I’ve been wanting to blog, but have been rather uninspired as of late. So, what to do? Well, random bullets of course – enjoy!

  • I’ve been working a temp job for the last week and a half. I want to pull my already sparse eyelashes out. It’s recruiting volunteers for a well known charity. Telemarketing with a twist, if you will. Well, the thing I probably like least in this world is being “sold to.” I’m not rude to salespeople/telemarketers/etc., but I’ve always been of the theory that if I want to buy/contribute/switch/save millions, I’ve got enough sense to pick up the phone/go the store/come on down all by myself. And now, here I sit making telephone calls for 6 hours a days trying to convince people to participate. Ironic isn’t it? Spiritually, I know I should just thank God for the opportunity to bring in a little dough – and I I am thankful – but still, I complain. What’s that all about?
  • I am so sexy right about now that I may audition for the Pussycat Dolls. I read somewhere that they’re going to have their own reality show to search for a 7th member. Okay, I won’t really be auditioning, but all this extra time spent at the gym is paying off. I’ve lost about 15 pounds, and am feeling and looking pretty good! Managed to lose a whole pants size. I would say dress size, but since I don’t generally wear those, I’ll talk what I know.
  • Gas is $2.15 a gallon people! I am so excited! I heard a lady on the radio the other day say that as Bush’s popularity declines, so does the price of gas. The way prices are falling, I hope his ratings hit rock bottom in the next few months.
  • Speaking of gas prices, my next car will definitely be a car. Maybe a Honda Fit. Or a Scion. I thought I’d need all this room for Lovegirl, but I’m thinking that I can easily transition back to a smaller – and more gas efficient vehicle. Unfortunately, we’re still paying for the truck, and we’d take a serious loss if we tried to trade it in, so we’ll be SUV’ing for a few more years, but after that, I’m definitely down with small and gas efficient. I never thought I’d be old enough to make statements like this, but “remember when gas was .97 a gallon and you could ride for weeks (months?) on $10?”
  • My youngest brother and his fiancee eloped last Friday. They’re both 22. They were supposed to get married next November or December, but decided that the wedding-planning process was way more stressful and involved than they wanted it to be. So they went to the JP last week and did the dang thang. Congratulations children! I think you’re nuts, but I wish you best and love you both much.
  • I think next month I’m going to try cooking once for the entire month. Has anybody else tried this? Where you set aside 3 or 4 hours and just have a cooking marathon. Then you freeze everything, and you’re good to go for the month. I plan to hit the bookstore this weekend to see if there’s a book that’ll guide me in the process. If you’ve tried it, please comment and let me know how it worked for you.
  • I need new music. Nothing on the radio is that interesting to me right now, but I’m tired of my old CDs and need something new in my ears. Anybody listening to anything good right now? My tastes run from 80’s pop (I LOVE the stuff) to Nina Simone to Marvin Gaye to old school rap (Kool Moe Dee, Ice Cube, Chubb Rock) to Luther to Bob Marley. My favorite CD right now is John Legend. I can’t wait for his new one – October I think.
  • I have a job interview tomorrow. I’m really optimistic about this one. For real.
  • I’ve decided my two television shows this season will be “Dancing with the Stars” and “Grey’s Anatomy.” I’ll be carving out time in my schedule for these two – anything else will be catch as catch can.
  • My husband really pisses me off sometimes. I think he thinks that the house magically cleans itself. I hate to nag and beg a grown-a man to help around the house. But I’m also tired of doing it all myself. I’m no Martha Stewart, but I do think the house should be presentable enough where if someone drops by I don’t have to be embarassed to open the door. Ya know?
  • I’m going to buy Lovegirl and myself each a pair of Converse. I’m feeling particularly old-school and will be rocking some Chucks this fall and winter.

I suppose that’ll do for now. Have a great day, an excellent week, and a teriffic rest of the year. Not that I won’t be back before the end of any of those . . .



A Day in the Life

A few posts ago, I wrote about being thankful for the little things, the everyday occurences. Those things that we often overlook while waiting for the next big thing in our lives to happen. And generallly, I try to be thankful, and in the moment. However, it’s kinda hard when your day looks like this:

5:15 a.m. — Wake up. Because that’s what time I’ve always woken up to get ready for the work day. Oh, that’s right. I was fired. No job to go to. Try to go back to sleep. Can’t. Turn on the light and read a few more chapters in the Bible.

**Sidenote: I’m trying to read through the Bible this year. I’m in the book of Job. Remember Job? He was wealthy and blessed, and then his world came crumbling down – lost his wealth, all his children were killed, he was afflicted with boils . . . not the most uplifting reading at this point in my life, but I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere for me.**

Where was I? Oh yes,

5:35 – 6:45 a.m. — Roll around in the bed, having semi-coherent conversations with Smoochy who’s not really a morning person. Try and figure out what in the heck I’m going to do with Lovegirl all day long. We’re in MS. There’s not much to do on the best of days. We definitely don’t need to go shopping, have lunch out, go to the movies, drive – anything that will cost $ we need to avoid. I come up with nothing. Then I remember – she’s got her 2 year check up today. Hallelujah! We’re leaving the house today.

7:15 a.m. — Lovegirl awakens. I’m summoned to her Royal Highness’ crib-side where she greets me with a cheery “good morning Mama!”

7:30 – 7:50 a.m. — Fix Lovegirl’s breakfast – a banana, juice, and a waffle. Iron our clothes for the day. Wonder how long I can continue to wear the same 4 pairs of blue jeans and 3 t-shirts before they just disentegrate. Fondly look back on my working days when 4 pairs of jeans was a luxury — two weekends worth of clothes. Now, I can’t make it through the week without washing. Let’s face it, I’d look pretty silly dancing and singing to the Doodlebops while drinking a juice box in slacks, a blouse, and pumps.

8:00 – 9:30 a.m. — Generally waste time. Watch some morning television news. Watch a little of the movie “Roll, Bounce.” Comb Lovegirl’s hair. Look at my gray hairs and wonder why I ever thought I’d relish having gray hair. I don’t look distinguished, I look washed out. Contemplate getting a rinse, and a perm and just letting this whole natural thing go. Quickly get out of the mirror and head downstairs to let the stank dog out. He really does stink. It is beyond time for him to have a bath.

10:00 — Head out to the doctor’s office. Lovegirl proceeds to act a stone fool. She cries. She slobs. She fake gags. All this while she’s being weighed and measured. She’s 26.12 pounds and 33.75 inches. She finishes being poked and prodded and is given a clean bill of health. One small bag of gummy bears and $55 dollars later, we’re through. She’s now all smiles and bids everyone in the office a fond adieu.

11:00 – 12:30 — Wander around the mall. Where did all these cute clothes come from? When I have no money, everything looks good. When I’m flush with cash, I can’t stand the way anything looks or fits. Catch 22 if there ever was one. Buy Lovegirl two outfits and a pair of shoes for a grand total of $35. Leave the mall and head home. Lovegirl falls asleep in the car and is especially difficult to extricate from her car seat once we’re here.

12:30 – now — Waste time. Look forward to hitting the gym at 5:45. Wonder what I’ll cook for dinner? Why do I cook less now than when I worked? Realize that I’ve become way less organized and together since I’ve been home. I forget to pay bills. I ride around on 1/4 tank of gas. I’ve been meaning to take some clothes to the Goodwill since July. It is almost mid-September. Wonder if being a stay-at-home mom is better when you plan to be one as opposed to having it chosen for you? Feel guilty and remorseful for even typing this entry.

It is now 2:20. This entry sucks. If you stayed to the end, congratulations. If I had money, I’d award you a prize. But I don’t, so I won’t. Please tune in next time for what would have to be a cheerier, more upbeat entry. What are the chances of two really down entries in a row? Probably less than the chances of winning the million dollar lottery twice. Like this lady did. Lucky heifer.

Happy Birthday Lovegirl!

Wow. I have had the privilege of being your mother for two whole years now Lovegirl – and I’ve loved you more during these past 24 months than I ever knew it was possible to love another human being. I say 24 months, but really closer to 32 – I have loved you since I knew you were on your way. Before I saw the ultrasound, before I felt your first kick. Before I pushed that final push and looked down into your wide open and curious eyes. I fell in love the minute those two pink lines showed up on that dollar store pregnancy test.

The last two years have been awesome. You’ve gone from a helpless little babe to a little girl so full of life I get tired just thinking about your constant state of motion. Where do you get all of your energy – and can Mama have just a bit of it? Sometimes you line all of your toys up in the floor and run laps around them until you collapse on the floor in a fit of giggles. I would say it is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, but that’s not true. Just about everything you do is hilarious. How would I pick one thing as the funniest?

You talk all of the time. All. Of. The. Time. From when you wake up in the morning and shout from your crib “I’m awake Mama. You can come get me now. I ready to get out of here” to your nighttime shouts of “Goodnight Mama. I love you. Good night. Thank you Mama.” You talk. You talk to us. You talk to strangers. You talk to your babies. You talk to the dog. Heaven forbid you greet someone in the store and they don’t speak back. You always start out quite nicely – you lean forward in the buggy, give a big wide smile and shout “hey!” Then you look at me and say “I speaking Mama, I said hey.” If the person to whom you were speaking hasn’t responded by now, you lean forward a little more, look them directly in their eyes and say “Hello! I speaking to you. You hear me?” Let’s just say you almost always get a response.

You were never a cuddly baby. You always preferred to be on the floor, crawling, exploring, moving around. But you’re getting sentimental in your old age. The hugs, the kisses, the pats on the back. You’re such a sweet girl. The unsolicited “I love you’s” just melt me. Of course, a lot of those expressions of love just happen to coincide with your being caught doing something wrong. But, it doesn’t matter – I eat it up anyway.

Speaking of eating, your palate has expanded quite a bit over the last year. You love oatmeal so much that you ask for it for dinner. Grapes, craisins, melon, vanilla wafers, chicken, green peas, raw carrots and corn continue to rock your world. You love Mexican food – I’m so proud – and suck down Indian style spinach – Palak Paneer I think – at any given opportunity. I’d never tell your Daddy, but you also share my love of spicy foods – in addition to the Mexican and Indian, you’ve had, and enjoyed, bites of jalapeno peppers, turkey chili with Tabasco, and Extreme Hot Tamales candies. Of course, just like I’ll not tell Daddy that I’ve heated up your palate, I’m darn sure that on your nights alone with Daddy, he’s slipped you a hot dog (errgh!) or two with the intention of telling me never.

I thought that the giddiness and joy of being your Mama would wear off, or at least down by now. It hasn’t. I’m just as excited to share your escapades with anyone who’ll listen as I was when you first got here. From your insistence that I “play the music Mama” when we’re in the car to your questioning me every day on when we’re going to a football game, I share it all. Through emails, pictures, this blog, and telephone conversations. I try to calm down. I try to remember that you’re not the first baby to grace this planet, and that people don’t want to hear all Lovegirl all the time. But you’re so darn cute. And funny. And smart. It’s hard to keep that to myself. Impossible I tell ya!

People say that the two’s will be terrible. I think that you are going to show them that they’ll be terrific. Happy Birthday Lovegirl – rock on!