Save Me!

The rain, the rain, the rain. I may go absolutely crazy if we get one more day of rain and since the weather channel is predicting 6 more days of it, sign me up for the nut house now.

I mean, why do we live here? I could move to Bermuda, Brent could teach there, the girls and I could live in shorts, we could live in a shack by the beach. Why do we live here? What makes it so hard for us to contemplate moving? I mean, there are other houses, other gardens we could plant, other friends to be made, grandparents can visit...geez, they'd probably love an excuse to go somewhere warm.

Today I went on strike, unfortunately without telling anyone, so the day turned into a whiny ("when are we having breakfast?") sort of a day. I am ashamed to admit I am still in my pyjamas. Mind you I didn't wear them to bed last night, but still the slovenliness of it all boggles my mind.

I also made the poor choice of flipping through a biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder during the long damp and mouldy stretch of a day and, close on the heels of reading "Plum Creek" to the girls, I am again astounded that Ma didn't smother them all in a fit of depression or during her own form of weather induced craziness. I mean , I have books, the Olympics (don't get me started on how late I am staying up for those), phones, movies and stores to go to (I sound lazy and self indulgent...other than the Olympics and books I have partaken of none of those things lately- poor me). What did Caroline Ingalls have in her that kept her going, out on the prairie with three small children, a dog, and a husband who, let's face it, kind of did whatever the he** he wanted to do including packing them all up countless times to trek across the country.

I want to be like Ma, but I'm afraid lately Roseanne (remember that stupid show?) is closer to reality...and I really don't like that.

If only the sun would come out...

Monday, Monday

Technically it's Monday, but it's only 5:00 in morning, so that shouldn't count. In fact, since I have been awake from 3:00, it still feels very much like Sunday night, which does not bode well for the day, no indeedy.

Brent has really gotten into the "I'm on summer vacation" groove, and is staying up until all hours. He's also super busy with computer work (other people's computers) and I worry about him working too much/too hard. Of course, then he'll not rise from bed until 9:00 and that just makes me cross too...I mean you could go to bed at a reasonable hour and then get up early to work. Or maybe we could just all cut back a little bit and then he wouldn't take on all these jobs. Except he would, so maybe we should benefit from it? I don't know.

I think I'll go clean (surprise!surprise!) my house before everyone gets up, and I'm going to do up my new and improved daily schedule. I really want to start in with our more rigid routine before September, I don't want it to all hit at once. I read someone's post about making a big deal about the 'first' day of school...and of course all the anxiety of what I may be 'depriving' the girls of came bubbling up. Blah. I think I need more regular sleep, just like the girls I function SO much better with proper sleep. If I don;t have some soon I can see myself spiralling into a really dark month...

A Little Piece Of Heaven

Or a little peace of Heaven...either way. We sat out under the stars, swinging on the porch swing, listening to the heavy breathing of our two sleeping girls. Happy Anniversary, I love you with all of my heart.

Mamma Mia

Brent and I went to see it, and despite the fear it would be beyond campy (which it so was), we really enjoyed it. Except now I have all the ABBA songs trapped in an endless loop in my head. Who needs an IPod?

I have to confess though that I may be the only person that has ever cried through most of "Mamma Mia". Who does that? I was just so caught up with watching this mother sing about her time with her daughter as a young girl being over, and with the whole pure loveliness of being young... I mean smooth skin, body parts up where they belong, being able to jump and move and sing without inhibition. I know, it's a completely idealized view of being twenty, but I was still nostalgic for something I probably never was. It was kind of a bittersweet thing, watching what I once was to some degree and watching where I am heading. Granted, Meryl Streep is my goal of aging beyond gracefully. I think she is amazingly beautiful and talented and boy, I hope I can be that in a few more years.

Anyway, once you get past the first few minutes of "What are we watching" is what thoroughly enjoyable...go see it! Bu be prepared to be humming "Waterloo" for a few days afterwards.

Yeah, What She Said...

I love Catherine, not in that way, but you know.

Speaking of which...yesterday I went to my friend's ultrasound and before I met up with her I went to the gift shop at the hospital. I decided I would get her a pink hat and a blue hat. You know the hats I'm talking about, right? Those newborn hats that, really, do they ever fit a baby's head? I did not think my children had freakishly large heads, despite the episiotomies (which is a post for another time and another place), but I could not get one of those hats to stay on either of them. They just would slide up, up, up their forehead and POP! Off they would come...the hats, of course, not the heads.

Anyway, I digress. As I took the hats up to the lady at the counter she commented on the two hats and I replied "We're going to find out the sex of the baby today", which, since I am not pregnant made it sound like it was 'our' baby. My friend and I. Who is another woman. And while at the risk of sounding like that Jerry Seinfeld episode (not that there's anything wrong with that), I had this driving need to clarify what I meant to the woman I didn't even know. I started backpedalling while at the same time having a "how do I explain this without sounding homophobic/narrow minded and snotty" conversation in my head, which I am sure made me look like I was having a seizure. She then (with a look of fear in her eyes) tried to talk me down by saying how many pregnancies there seems to be around lately (HELLO? I know that) and I replied that "Yes, a lot of my daughter's friends are pregnant"...MEANING that their friend's mothers are pregnant. The lady looked confused and said, "Oh is it your daughter's ultrasound today?" And I then ended the conversation by shooting her.

No, unless shooting invisible laser beams from my eyes counts. I just said "No, just a friend of mine" and left barely able to stop myself from shrieking "DO I LOOK THAT OLD?!?!". Of course, I then sat down, opened the newspaper I also bought and read about a 47 year old grandmother who was having a hard time covering her medical costs. That woman is only 6 years older than me. Indeed.

My Heart At Home Daybook...

Outside my window... is a warm, humid night.

I am thinking... that I am really excited to post this and put my name on another blog for the first time. Maybe I should have said I am thinking I am needy/nerdy?

I am thankful for... my girls being sound asleep.

From the kitchen... I have some leftover hash from my mom. Thanks, Mom!

I am wearing... capris because my legs need to be shaved.

I am creating... a Tivo list so I can cut down on television watching.

I am going... to go to bed soon...next time I'll do this Daybook in the daytime.

I am reading... "The Encouraging Parent"

I am hoping... that I have more patience and energy tomorrow.

I am hearing... the static of the baby monitor that I still use to hear the girls even though they are no longer babies (at least not according to everyone else besides me)

Around the house... are things to pick up after the company tonight.

One of my favorite things... are raspberries fresh from the garden and we got some tonight!

A few plans for the rest of the week: going to my friend's ultrasound (and wishing it was for my own), finishing swim and music classes for my deprived, unsocialized, home schooled children (yes, I am being sarcastic), and preparing for family to visit.

Eating

Another successful dinner party (actually a potluck). A relatively small house with 40 people invited is seemingly a recipe for disaster, but once again everyone fit in, laughed, brought and ate AMAZING food and all I had to do was provide the space and tidy up a bit before and after...which is a very good thing.

It was an odd day. For the first time in my memory since having children, we had a day without them. Daughter One wanted Nanny to drive her to her full day music camp and Daughter Two wanted to go with Nanny and spend the day with her. Nanny agreed! It was a great opportunity to tidy the house, but very weird. The strangest part was when I would clean up a room, it stayed clean! Imagine, no one behind me taking it all apart.

They are both sound asleep now, seconds after going to bed with sticky popsicle mouths (I forgot to wash faces- how bad a mother am I?) they were asleep. I do love those lovely girls.