Monday, May 19, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
How did you meet your spouse? I went to his apartment begging for aluminum cans. (Not kidding...My roommates and I were in the throws of a semester-long art/apartment beautification project we creatively referred to as "the can wall.")
Where did you go on your first date? To dinner and a play with Jared and Connie Mecham. The play was a good move on his part. He appeared to be cultured even though he tried to impress me in the car by flawlessly singing "The Devil Went Down to Georgia."
How long have you been together? 10 years, married 9
Who eats more? Sweets, me...Meats, him.
Who said I love you first? P-Dog
Who is taller? Obviously him. But he sometimes has me stand on a step then says, "Would you have fallen in love with me if I was this tall?" The answer is yes, of course, but he does look fantastically silly when taken off his pedestal.
Who sings better? Me, but Paris has major potential.
Who is smarter? Unimportant geeky stuff, me. Recall and practical stuff, HIM!
Who does the laundry? Me.
Who does the dishes? I usually do, but he does the silverware. (I abhor the silverware!)
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? Depends. This has been a bone of contention at times, most notably when I'm pregnant. Paris sleeps closest to the door. Always. He says it's to protect me if someone comes in, but I've noticed he's always coincidentally closer to the bathroom. (An [really] inconvenient truth.)
Who pays the bills? Online BillPay. But he makes that happen, bless his heart.
Who mows the lawn? Wyatt
Who cooks dinner? I'm exercising my Constitutional right to remain silent.
Who drives when you are together? Paris
Who is more stubborn? We're both perfect angels. :)
Who is the first to admit when they’re wrong? Me, but he always means it when he says it.
Who kissed who first? Simultaneous
Who proposed? He did, outdoors, on December 26th after spilling a huge glass of ice water on me. I happily agreed through chattering teeth.
Who is more sensitive? We're both pretty logical. I hear he was super sensitive growing up, so I'd say him.
Who has more friends? Me, especially if we include BlogBuds.
Who has more siblings? You'd think this would be pretty straightforward, but Southerners make things so complicated - Technically he does; Biologically, I do; Spiritually, we all do.
Who wears the pants? He lets me think I do, but I'm pretty sure he does. Clever.
Now I tag Julie K, Mary from book club, and Cindy V
(I like putting the first letter of last names because then it looks like I have multitudes of friends named Julie or Cindy. Who's clever now?!)
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
I admit we had some technical difficulties at first, though. Try as I might I could not stuff Ryan's feet into them. I fought the boots for a few minutes. And she has narrow feet! I smugly thought, "Uggs? More like Ughs! What ROCKET SCIENTIST designed these shoes?"
Apparently you're supposed to take the tissue paper stuffed in the toes out before inserting baby feet. Details.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
First, I thought of my own mother. I don't know what I ever did to be blessed with Mom. She filled my thoughts all day. When we stumbled upon the song that's playing (The Heart Seeks Pleasure First) I teared up. I wondered how many hours I spent dancing around the family room while Mom played this song on the piano. I wonder how many hundreds of hours I spent dancing around while she played piano, period. I remember it as early as Sacramento, when I was Pre-K-aged and as late as high school. At times we'd sing together or she'd let me "help her play" or turn pages, but most often we each did our own thing, connected by Mom's music...Scott Joplin, classical, Church or pop/movie soundtracks. I love those memories. She's not your traditional mom in very many ways, but she is the perfect mom in every way.
Then I thought of my children. I don't know what I ever...Well, you get it. Atticus gave me a homemade pot with flowers and cards, and Wyatt helped me plant a hanging basket with lovely flowers. Paris made breakfast and Chicken Bryan (phenominally similar to Carrabba's) for dinner. Church went well, which I can't always say. It was a very nice day with lots of hugs, especially from Wyatt.
Then I thought of other mothers: Brittany, who delivered her first child on Mother's Day 2008; Karen, who wonderfully defies all Mother-In-Law jokes; Kelly, who I'm sure all would agree is SuperMom.
My favorite, though, was a questionaire Atticus filled out in his Pre-K class. He was asked questions about his mom. Among my favorite answers:
Saturday, May 10, 2008
- Swivel Sweeper. I often wish I could bear testimony about the truthfulness of the Swivel Sweeper...Want to kiss the inventor of the Swivel Sweeper long and meaningfully. Swivel Sweeper. It just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it.
-Washing machines. Ours went out a couple weeks ago. Let's face it, it's not like I armed myself with a washboard and scrubbed our clothes by hand, but it was decidedly inconvenient to load them up and do them somewhere else.
- Kitchenaid. If I didn't have one, I'd give my arm for one. (Not my left...I'm not crazy or anything.)
- The Magic Eraser. Don't know how it works. Don't care how it works. It works.
- Serger. I know this is a luxury. A fantastic luxury! It's like having a maid when you sew. It quietly hums as it tidies up messy, fraying seams. And all it asks in return is an occasional drop or two of oil.
Top 5 Signs My Domestic Skills aren't all I ever dreamed they would be, despite the above-mentioned inventions:
- I plop onto the couch and say, "Whew! I'm pooped."
Atticus then says, "Oh good. Publix Subs or Pizza?"
- It's been long enough since I really scrubbed the bathrooms that Atticus (4 years old) notices. He then (not intending to be patronizing, I'm sure) says, "Mom, terrific job on the bathrooms! They look super. I'm proud of you. You must have worked very hard."
- After refusing snacks to Atticus because we're having dinner soon he asks, "What's Dad fixing?"
- I'm chronically doing "backwards laundry." Before I can use the basket to take clothes out of the dryer and fold/put them away I have to fold/put away the load that's been in the basket since my last laundry session. Twisted.
- I remind friends with crawlers to give me heads up before they visit so I can find the vaccuum. (Wouldn't want a sweet baby to choke on a chip from last week's nachos.)
Understand, I mention this with some pride; I believe I've made progress. I've always been a little obsessive about cleaning - inevitably the Felix Unger when rooming with someone in college. (Especially Kathryn, I love you.) When we were first married we'd get home from a long trip or a hard day at work and I'd start cleaning. Confused, Paris would helpfully say, "You're exhausted. Just relax." I'd reply,"I'll be able to in a couple minutes, dear. Hand me that carpet steamer, would you?"
Three pregnancies and 9 years with laid back Paris have taught me to relax my expectations a smidge. I'm channeling my Ch'i (or whatever) to try to enjoy the kids and individual moments of my day, regardless of whether or not the house is tidy.
(Not to mention I don't want to raise little OCD k-i-d-s. True Story: we were enjoying a family date at a restaraunt when Wyatt, Atticus and I simultaneously snapped to attention at a familiar sound. We knowingly made eye contact then whipped our heads around to find a waitress swivel sweeping under a table. The boys were beaming. Atticus said, "SHE has a Swivel Sweeper too?! How lucky!" I was concerned. Deeply concerned.)
I admit I falter. If I'm stressed or upset or just need a fix I grab the Swivel Sweeper and go to town. But I can stop anytime, really...
Monday, May 5, 2008
First, I was shocked when I ran across this VHS tape at the library. Travis is our generation's contribution to the Leber family line of "Hoofers." My grandfather, Ardy, reportedly waited out the depression in San Fransisco ruining his parents' hard wood floor, tapping endlessly in boots with nails driven into the toes and heels. Ardy never made Vaudeville. Travis, however, made him proud when he tapped to win a big talent contest in Clovis. No pressure, Schroeder.
Anyway, I was instantly reminded of the scent of The Underground and TWO trips to see Tap Dogs in London because one time through just wasn't enough.
Then while at Weeki Wachee this weekend I stumbled upon this little gem. Laughed so hard I felt like I was DOING the aerobics! What would we do without satellite TV? I'm thinking apple pie and quadratic equations with Travie on my junior year lunch hour.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Which Twilight novel character are you?
You're Edward Cullen - You have great taste for the finer things in life, a classic style, and you understand the way people work so you can manipulate easily. You have many talents and a bit of a temper, but you are mostly level-headed and rational.
Take this quiz!
I'm Edward. I think parts of this are spot on. But others? I wouldn't say I have a "classic" style; I think I'm a little more daring than that. I am logical, but not always level-headed. And Paris is the rational one in our family.
But then, I didn't really like the results so I was going to change answers and see if I liked that better. Manipultative! So Edward it is.
This reminds me that I've traditionally avoided personality tests because no matter which one I take I crave different results. (Is it possible to fail a personality test?) I vividly remember taking an animal-themed test in Paris's Marriage-Prep class when we were newlyweds. The night ended with us driving home, me in tears sobbing, "I don't WANT to be a lion." Not one of my finer moments. :)
Interestingly, I really like "red" friends. I just don't always want to be one. But then isn't the point of a personality test to discover your natural strengths and weaknesses so you can tame your weaknesses and consciously try to develop the strengths of other personality types? Ahhhhh...