i should be going to bed, or if not, at the very least i should be picking up the litter bucket i am trying to pass off as our home, but instead i keep popping cold ones, eating leftover feast food and flipping channels watching tail-end of movie after tail-end of movie. i'll probably be up until 1 a.m. again. except tomorrow i don't get to wake up at 10 a.m., or 9, or even 8. duty calls. darn it.
but, speaking of doo-dees. 2 is two. on wednesday. where does the time go? her favorite things as of late are to: throw--no, hurl--her plate, cup, utensils and any leftover food that may be on them as far as she can, cueing she is all done; yell at, not for, me when she cannot see me; keep her eye on the colony of fy's (flies, of which she is terrified) caught between 1's screen and window; and view the last 20 minutes of the sandlot just to watch the "doggy, fuh-fuh!" in which she is fascinated.
opinions about everything from shoes to sippies are more prevalent with each passing day. as are affinities for purses, puppies, and all things 1 is doing (much to his dismay). problem is, opinions and affinities are hard to express when they are coming out in another kind of language--one only you, the toddler, can understand. frustration is sort of cute when it takes the form of an immediate flop on the floor, head buried in hands, fake whimpers in tow. sometimes it is sort of not cute.
my favorite things about her? her belly. oh definitely that. her blonde, whispy resemblance of curls. the resilience and determination she is learning from having a headstrong, equally-determined playmate for an older brother (from which she is also learning the art of vibrato and the thrill of the spotlight). the tender way she wraps her wittle awms awound my neck to squeeze and pat. the immediate, heart-melting tears that come from being scolded, which, at age two, are to be construed as pure sensitivity. at age 16? most likely manipulation. a trait indubitably inherited from her mother. they will probably melt our hearts anyhow. they did her mother's parents.
if asked ten years ago, at age 17, what my dreams of adulthood entailed, i am certain i would not have made any indication that motherhood was one of them. i don't believe that it was. however, watching my children grow is truly a dream come true.
No Hypo this week. Sorry. But I do want to get your thoughts on kids and toy guns.
As a parent or potential parent, do you think it's okay to let your kids play with toy guns? If you say no and your child has friends with toy guns, does that bother you? Do you do anything about it? Any specific reason for your answer?
Some of you have been to law school, and some of you are married to someone who has been to law school. You'll probably get where I'm coming from. For those of you with no experience to the weirdness that becomes of law students, allow me to explain a little bit. One of the biggest parts of law school is the hypothetical. Students read the cases, learn the laws of a certain area, and then (students or teachers) come up with some of the weirdest factual situations you could ever imagine to see how the law would apply according to those facts. Sometimes it's bizarre (think of frozen turkeys falling from an airplane in the sky and injuring people in a hotel's swimming pool); sometimes its morbid, which is what I'm going to present to you today.
Here's the deal. Law students, on average, are not as interesting as we think we are. (If you don't believe that the average law student thinks he or she is much more interesting than anyone else, just visit www.top-law-schools.com and read through some of the personal statements. It's a clinic in taking the ordinary and making it seem incredible.) So it basically comes down to this: I often grow tired of hearing what the not-as-interesting-as-advertised law student thinks (self included), and I want to know what you (i.e., the interesting reader) think.
Here you go. Fair warning, it might be slightly morbid. You have just been in a car accident and your car is at the bottom of a ravine in a river. You weren't wearing your seatbelt and were thrown from the car. Luckily you were uninjured, but your child was strapped in her car seat and is still in the car. You can see her, and the water is starting to slowly rise. She is starting to panic and struggle. The problem is that it is 100% certain you will not be able to reach your child before she dies, and if you try to get her it is 100% certain that you will die as well (you have a spouse and 4 other children at home, so you can't really kill yourself in an attempt to save her). Because you live in the ghetto you always have a gun, and you have a perfect shot. So your options are either (1) you can watch her drown (she will suffer), or (2) you can shoot her and kill her instantly (no suffering). There are no other options, and you are the only person around. What do you do? (Remember, it is certain that she will die either way and you can't do anything about it.)
If you said watch her drown, would your answer change if the car was not sinking, but instead it was on fire (meaning more suffering for a longer time)?
No matter what you answered, would it change if it were a stranger's child and you could see that the mother was already dead? (You were the only other person in the entire area, and you happened to witness the accident.)
Last one. If you were a juror in a case where a person had been charged with manslaughter for shooting the child in any of the situations above, would you vote to convict them? No to all three? Yes to all three? Yes to some no to some? Tell me what you think in the comments.
If the result is good, maybe I'll post more of these. If not, I'll just leave the blogging up to my wife. She's much better at it anyway.
you know, some days I feel down right cheated. not having him here. like a gaping hole has been dug deep in my chest and it can't be filled. the hole only hurts when i think about it. i try not to think about it. only on days like september 19 and november 13, and sporadically during the holidays. days when it would seem only appropriate, if not expected, to expose it--my gaping hole. even still, i try to do so on my own.
why does it feel this way? the sting gets more acute, deeper, the older i--and he--get. it, at times, overwhelms me. it pleases me to muse that with age, i possibly gain maturity. thus the brevity of a loss happening 12 years ago rings clearer to me now. more than it ever could at age 15. or at the very least differently: what would his wife have been like? his children? the hypotheticals dig it deeper. except when i think my son is a reincarnated him. i didn't know him then--at age 4. i've only heard stories. heaven help me if i am the mother to raise that reincarnated spirit. maybe that's part of it. the whole hole part. the filling it part, specifically.
**i don't know where she went. the witty me. sunnier skies perhaps...
My brain has been inescapably swirling with memories from not so long ago--though, to me the time expired seems like light years, those older, wiser, and thus more mature than me would scoff at the mere under two decades of time ago in which some of the following things occurred. Perhaps as a result of recent re-connections with best buds and old friends via cyber-social networking sites and what have you. At any rate, I wanted to scribe them before they were once again lost in the archives. Enjoy...or not.
Disclaimer: This post will be nothing but yawns and "eh?"s, maybe a few "oh dear"s, to most of you, but if you need a good bed time story, feel free to read on. Don't say I didn't warn you. You too, Neesh.
Remember how we used to go out to eat at Brick Oven anytime it was conceivably possible? Mmmm. Ranch and mushrooms... Remember how it was almost always someone's birthday, even if it wasn't?
Remember when one of us moved to Spanish Fork? Remember when we all road the bus down there to visit her? Remember how she introduced us to a guy that, "looked like Usher and danced like Puff Daddy?" Our words. No joke. Who knew...
Remember our annual Christmas parties? Remember that year we had it on the floor in the University Mall because two of us had to work in that kiosk? I think that was one of the last ones...
Remember our massive sleepovers where we would stay up nearly all night and almost every time someone would end up at least partially nude (or even fully)--often outside? Speaking of...remember the time when we slept at one of our dad's houses and decided to take a walk on the Riverside Golf Course with the boys(squeal) then we all tripped on that stupid string as we entered the course? (could've been just me) Remember later that night how we all ended up outside lined up on Universtiy Ave entertaining cars as they drove by? Some of us more clothed than others? I wonder how many people laughed at us from their cars, "Poor little prepubescents...", they thought, shaking their heads as they drove on...
Remember when we toilet papered one of the boys's house (squeal) because we thought they were sleeping there? Remember how his dad caught us? In his G's?
Remember how we used to spend our class periods writing notes to eachother? Remember how the decor on the note took more thought and effort than the actual message? Remember how along with note-writing came the drawing of elaborate so-and-so plus so-and-so pictures?
Remember KC and Jo Jo? Remember MM Bop--still a fav--and Seven Peaks passes?
Remember how we were obsessed with the movie Titanic and each saw it about 19 times? Remember how I bawled (more than the average female) everytime I saw it. It being released mere months after Alex passed away may have had an effect on that... Remember how we waited for weeks for the soundtrack to come out and when one of us finally bought it, we listened to the theme song on repeat in one of our rooms for what seemed like hours on end with the lights off donned in trends from the local thrift store?
Remember rollerblading up and down Palisade Drive? Remember walking EVERYWHERE? Remember seeing movies at Wynnsong, then eating at Hogi Yogi?
Remember how one of us had a family that moved to Draper so one of us had went to Alta for like a day before she decided she hated it? Thank goodness for that--what would we have done with out Blake and Jer's?
Remember the giant community locker in D hall? How many of us did we have in there anyway? Remember Mr. Downs? Even better, remember Mr. Logan? Ugglh. Even better yet, remember Mrs. Kummer? at Orem High??????
Remember how we used to plan to where pajamas to school?
Remember how we used to plan "Friday Outfits?" Then, slowly, we quit planning and began to just wear our pajamas anyway--even, if not especially, on Fridays?
Remember one of us FINALLY got a car? And it was blue. And it was out. of. this. world. Remember how some of us helped that crossing guard after he fell and earned ourselves a free ice cream cone? Not that one should expect to be rewarded for doing good deeds, but an ice cream cone? We quite possibly saved that guys life. Remember Delilah? I still love her.
Remember our trip to St. George? Remember the Rococo?
Remember Jack Johnson, Kalai, and Ben Harper? Oi vey. Remember South Fork? In Fact, remember that two of us had an apartment? and a pager? Yup a pager. Weren't they a first to get a cell phone too? Whoa.
Remember taping episode after episode of Friends? If we'd only known that less than a decade later the ENTIRE collection would be available on DVD. It's a shame I still can't afford it...
Remember how dramatic we were about everything? Remember fighting over boys, clothes, gossip and who knows what? Remember becoming friends again after one of those blow outs? Remember how we couldn't live with out each other back then? Remember that with out any of these experiences, good and bad, happy or sad, we wouldn't be who we are today?
Sometimes I miss those days, but only because I miss the gals. Three cheers for best buds.
Please don't ever leave again.
AN AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was actually written several months ago whilst sitting upon my mother's couch. I believe it was May of '08, if we want to get technical. Obviously it was never posted. Who knows why I'm posting it now. Perhaps because it's a Sunday and I often get nostalgic and thoughtful--be that literally full of thought, not to be confused with the charitable definition of the same word--on the Sabbath. The same also happens when the kids are in bed, the T.V. is not on, and My Better Half is in his office studying. Consequently, the stars have aligned, all four of them, and I am extra-ly full of thought this eve.
really can't believe it all fit. Seriously. Minus the dryer, or course.
is going to miss the Casper Family (among others). They are pretty awesome.
gets a titty-bit embarrassed when her better half tells someone, "the tan one with the nice rack," is his, "Oh! You mean my wife. I thought you were talking about my new car." True story. Pun intended.
has to live in State College for how long??? Hoping it will grow on her.
feels nostalgic for Buffalo's Craigs List in her search for an electrically hooked-up dryer.
needs you to remind her about her children now.
remind her again.
Likes the friends her better half made on the internet. They don't mind sitting on hairy, stinky furniture.
found the Wegmans!
would like to thank the Academy (parents both blood and non) for getting us out the door and on the road in one piece.
In other words, these are the Facebook stati I would have posted had I owned a blackberry, iphone, or otherwise been continuously connected to the internet during the duration of our move.
We are here. I'm pretty sure we are happy. And we are safe.
Thing 2 is pacing aimlessly about The Dawg's* house, whining, signing and speaking more--sounds like, "mo"-- whilst reaching into oblivion in search of Blankie, whom I just put in the dryer. She saw me do this, but yet, somehow efforts such as these will make Blankie reappear in places like the fron stairway and behind the family room couch. Eventually they will, I suppose. In about 45 minutes. Hope she recognizes it. It will no longer don a grey and mauve , but a glowing pink and white. Max has lovingly lent her Yellow for the time being--not Blue because,"Just...he's my too special one, Mom."
My Better Half is sleeping away his 9 hour drive to Los Angeles. He arrived at 4 am this morning. Gustave, his Kentucky friend, is getting married. I did not get to with him. I did talk him into it, though. Originally being oppposed to the idea, it turned out not to be as hard as I thought, to change his mind. However, in whirl of turned-out-to-be-futile eyelash batting and seduction at My Better Half--don't act like you've never done it--I forgot to do the same to my superiors at the Gap. Of course, I don't think that would have worked anyway. I'm pretty sure most of them are interested in men, and doing so may have only angered them into a jealous frenzy as I have fabulous eyelashes. 'Guess requesting the time off may have also been an effective tactic. Really, I blame Gus. Had more than 3 weeks notice been given for this shin-dig, I may have been able to pull some strings.
The above kind of sums me up too, I guess. Having awoken to overcast skies this morning only furthered my L.A.-less, funk-of-a-mood. The sun is peaking through the clouds now. Consequently, my frown is turning upsidedown. Aunt-a-Buddah's** ipod is now almost fully charged meaning I can finish watching season 1 of The Secret Life of the American Teenager. I am not ashamed, nor am I frowning in the least anymore. Grinning from ear to ear. Too bad you can't see me. I haven't brushed my teeth yet. Wait. Maybe the sun isn't peaking through the clouds at all. It's just me. I am creating this. In my unexpected turn-a-bout demeanor I've willed myself into seeing sunshine. Let me go check.
Nope. The sun is really out. Would've been cool if it was me, though. Admit it. Now. Despite what you may be thinking, I have a plan for today. It is to watch the aforementioned super cool show, occasionally interspersing an Arrested Development episode, whilst folding my mountain peak of laundry. There must be fault activity 'round the mount as it keeps growing. 'Course, the sunshine is bursting its way through the atmosphere now with unstoppable force. I may have to tackle Mount Laundro-nogus later this evening. I think that sounds like a good plan. I think Thing 1 will feel okay about this.
He is currently watching a recent obsession--due to an also recent birthday gift from a friend-- involving a latin fellow named Manny and his flock of talking tools. And sucking on his fingers. My thoughts exactly. An interesting thing about 1, is that he turned 4. Though, not exactly on the day he thought. According to him, June 14 (pronounced "fourn-teenth") was Father's Day. Having been so busy with moves and road trips until only days before the real June 14, we took advantage of 1's lack of conception of all things time, and the congruent compilation of My Better Half's blood relatives to celebrate his birthday then. Now, also according to him, he turned 5 on Wednesday (two days ago) when we celebrated his birthday again, this time with my blood relatives. He took this as his next birthday, rather than just an additional birthday celebration. I've spent some time undoing this. For now, he's 4. I think I got it to stick. We'll see.
The ipod is charged.
*Neesh-Dawg, Nicea Gedicks, mi Madre. **Thing 1's pronunciation at age 2 of Aunt Amanda, mi smallo sistero. May the Lord bless her for leaving her technology with me this day.
I know at one point tonight I was asleep. I'm not sure which. However, I am pretty sure the point in which I woke up was when My Better Half came in to bed after readying our ipod for this weeks cross-country adventure, saw the dog and broke down. It is now 3:30 in the morning. I've been up since 2. In approximately 4 hours I am to drop Elder off at the repair shop for an oil change and an air conditioner fan motor...thingy. Approximately 1 and 1 half hours from that the rescue shelter in which we've entrusted our precious Clementine, is coming to retrieve her. Somewhere betwixt Elder's and Clementine's appointments I must retrieve my children from their impromtu sleepover at the Dayton's so as to say goodbye to our family canine and also our home. It is finally here. Just some sweepage and wipage of the joint and we are on our way. I don't really know why I am crying at this point. I cried--for days, I might add--when I had to move to this "God-awful" place, remember??? What is the deal??? I better compose myself before my tears create more water damage in My Better Half's computer. He might not be too happy about that, especially considering he just got it back this morning. Anyway. Change is hard. I've never liked change. In fact, I am down right terrified of change. Change should only be something loose that you find in the pocket of your jeans or unexpectedly in the couch. That is good change. The other kind always makes me cry and worry if we've made correct decisions. Fear of the unknown, I guess. Fear of unforseen elements. When Thing 1's development in my womb had reached the point where it was worthy of comments like, "Lady, you are having this baby to-day, aren't you?" (Ha Ha. No actually. I have 4 moreweeks, you sensitive male. Are you saying I'm fat?), I remember these distinct, slightly disturbing, thoughts in my head: "Oh dear, Ab, what have you gotten yourself into? What were you thinking??? You weren't. And now you're having a baby. You have to have this baby. It has to come out of you. There is no turning back. You can't woose out, fake an injury so you don't have to perform labor. Hide. No. You have to give birth to this...thing." I am not exactly sure why this is relevant to the situation. Perhaps it is because I've reached this point in our move. There is no turning back. Perhaps is it because My back hurts so bad from all bending and lifting that is entailed in moving that it feels like I am going into labor. That is also a viable relevancy. I guess, what I do know is that I am truly going to miss this place. Place meaning our apartment, and its early 20th century fabulousness and location, but mostly dirty, gritty, real, diamond-in-the-rough Buffalo, NY. The 198. Our Ward building that is painted like a fast food joint (then you realize it has a steeple, so it isn't. Then you notice the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints sign and think, Huh. Wierd. They don't usually look like that.) that resides across from the Catholic projects. Mayor Brown and the amount of times he says the phrase City of (or people) of Buffalo, EVERYTIME he is on the news. Our friends both student and non. The accent (oh how I'll miss the accent). Hertel. Shopping at the garage, the estate, or the curb. Man I have loved this place. Who knew? And now we are leaving it. Who knew? Pray for us in our new adventure, most especailly that Elder has the estimated 6000 miles he has planned for him this summer, but also for Clem that she will be happy and healthy and not miss us like we will miss her.
OK, I wanted to tell you that I just cashed in my swagbucks for an amazon giftcard. What did I do to earn this giftcard? I searched the internet with swagbucks.com instead of google. What are you waiting for? And for those of you who did sign up, congratulations. Hopefully you use it and earn yourself some cool stuff. For the rest of you, here you go:
I'm sure most of you use yahoo or google or something similar for searching the Internet. You hook them up when you click on the links they provide, but do they ever pass it along to you? NO!
Enter Swagbucks. Swagbucks is a search engine just like yahoo, google, etc., and when you search with them they randomly give you "swagbucks" for doing so. A swagbuck is the same thing as a credit card reward point or something like that (except you don't have to buy stuff to get rewards--you just have to search the Internet like you already do). After you have accumulated swagbucks you can hop online and redeem them for cool stuff like amazon.com gift cards and other things you might like.
If you create an account under my link, I get a swagbuck for every swag buck you earn (up to the first 100), and you get the same thing if people create an account under you. See, all the benefits of a MLM without having to pay 100 dollars a month for an exotic juice that will cure the cancer your bound to get if you don't drink the juice. (Did that make any sense?) And just so you know, you do have to create an account (how else would they keep track of your swagbucks) but it's completely free.
So next time you hop on google to search for something, just think, you'd be banking swagbucks if you were at swagbucks.com instead. Try it out, tell your friends to try it out, and enjoy all the cool stuff you're going to get.
Check it out HERE (Remember to use this link so I get hooked up for your first 100 bucks!)
OK here's the catch. Just kidding. Here's more stuff I didn't add in the post. You can only win once a day from searching. You usually win one swag buck, but you can sometimes win 2, 5, or 10 swagbucks. You can also earn swagbucks by recycling old cell phones or using their discount codes at online stores like walmart.com. Another way to win swagbucks is to become their fan on facebook. They always have free giveaways, trivia, and stuff like that for their fans.
I'm not even going to try to match my wife's wittiness, so I'll just cut right to the chase on what's new with us. We have decided that we are going to be going to Happy Valley for the summer and we'll be leaving the beloved (not sarcastic--we have really grown to love this place) Buffalo the first of June. Hopefully I will pass my comprehensive exams on May 23rd (prayers are not only welcomed but encouraged) and we will be officially done with this stage of our lives. If not, I'll have to come back again in September for round two. It won't be the end of the world, but kind of annoying.
If nothing changes between now and then, we will be leaving Happy Valley, UT and travelling back across the country where the family will set up shop for the next three years in Happy Valley, PA while I set up shop in this incredibly awesome building! BOOYA!! (By the way, the library provides a fantastic view of one of college football's greatest stadiums. If you come visit, I'll be happy to show you! Disclaimer: The quality of football played at said stadium may or may not have been an influential factor in the decision making process.)
We are still playing the waiting game with a few places and the wait list game with some other places, so, although these are our plans for now, there is still a small chance that they may change. But the plans to be in Happy Valley, UT for the summer are pretty much certain. Hope to see a lot of you soon!! HOLLA!
...for the Buffalo's Soldiers Giveaway! That's right. For the first time ever My Better Half and I are sponsering a GVIEAWAY. Are you ready? The first 25 people to comment with your email address on this post will recieve a FREE email for 30% off all of your purchases made March 13-16, 2009 at all Gap locations. This is where we holla. You know you want to win it. Entries must be receiced by9 a.m. Eastern Time on Tuesday, March 3, 2009.That would be tomorrow folks. Some restrictions may apply*. Good luck. And don't forget to Holla!
*Restrictions are to be read aloud, qickly, and muffled. Ready. Set. READ! Residents of Buffalo and surrounding suburbs are not eligible. Emailing it to you would be plain silly. I can hand deliver an invitation to you. Rights are reserved to give preference to those belonging to my family tree if needs be, as well as the right to combine members of my family tree who live geograpohically close to one another so as to leave room for more winners. I reserve the right for you to conduct yourself in whatever way possible to ensure you are among the 25 who win. Bribes are accepted. Speaking of acceptances, My Better Half was just accepted to the University of Louisville Brandeis School of Law. Holla. Thing 2 recently bumped her head on the filing cabinet giving her a lump and a mild scratch as I typed out this post. Ouch. Thing 1 locked himself in Clementine's crate also whilst typing this post. Thank you. Have a great day. Did I just hear youholla?
I joined Facebook today. Actually, that is a half truth. It wasn't today. Nor was it me. Which, I guess, if you're being technical, makes that statement a flat out lie. Whatever. My Better Half did it. I was sitting right next to him as he furiously clicked away creating my online persona. I told him I not to do it. I told him I wasn't ready. Ready for the commitment Facebooking (I believe is the correct terminology) would entail. He wouldn't listen. Thus, I have an account and profile giving me open access to my increasing* number of friends' profiles and a whole can 'a worms. I am reeling from all of the excitement, chaos, and suffrage of an intense fear of Facebook rejection. What if So-And-So from Way-Back-When doesn't want to be my friend? Afterall, it has been a long time. There might be a real reason we haven't spoken for a while... It seems to me, though, if someone requested to be my real-life friend I would never deny them friendship. Nor would you. That would be blatently rude. Jesus said love everyone. Treat them kindly too. But. What if Facebookers don't share this same charitable attitude??? I am not sure I am ready for that kind of stress-inducing agony. Furthermore, Say So-And-So does forgive me for my transgressions of Way-Back-When and does accept my e-friendship. What do I do with it? Do I really catch-up with this person? Does this person really want to catch up with me? How is it done? If So-And-So writes on my "wall" and asks me a question, how do I respond? I'm all a mess of sweaty palms and social anxiety--if you can even call it that, as Facebook is not exactly social, per se.
*My Better Half tells me that this number will surely decrease. Especially since I am simply not as cool as he. This is true. Why do you think I married him?