One Look at Opening Day

There really are two sides to every fence.  And this picture caught something.  It was another Opening Day to another season of another sport.  And I really am so proud of Chase who has cheered and supported his brother for three years.  He has been on the watching, the hoping side of the fence.  Hoping, perhaps, to someday have his own turn.  This year he got dressed in his Giants baseball hat, Giants jersey, Giants shorts, and fastest shoes he had...just to cheer.  It was so darling.

But, I think that, perhaps, there is something melancholy about this side of the fence.  The side where you watch and don't do.  But, as I looked at this picture, I realized that we spend much of our lives cheering those on around us...perhaps even most of our lives.  And this is an important side.  It is perhaps less flashy and definitely given less attention.  But perhaps without it the other side wouldn't exist. 

One Down, Many to Go

Chase lost his first tooth!

It was quite the surprise, to everyone.

I didn't get the story until today, after the tooth fairy had come.

Yesterday's story was:  it was loose and he hadn't told me.

Today's story was whispered and sounds more like the truth:  he bumped his tooth on a cereal bowl and knocked it out.

The good news is that the tooth fairy comes if you put the tooth under your pillow, no matter how it came out!

He got a two dollar bill, a one dollar bill, a gold coin worth a dollar, and a quarter.

And according to Chase, he now has more money than anyone in the world.

The Irony of Protective Eyewear

Two weeks ago I bought a new racquetball racket.  Why?  Well, I took two classes in college and just joined a gym with racquetball courts.  So, naturally, I would have no idea where my old rackets were and would therefore need a new one.  But as I stood in the aisle at Sports Authority, I couldn't decide what to actually get.  I knew I needed a racket, but they range in price from nothing to something, so how to choose?  Definitely some blue balls, but those teal balls were a better price...oops they are squash balls which wouldn't work.  And then I saw it, the bag with everything:  racket, sweat band, balls, and even protective eyewear.

I have never owned protective eyewear, but I believe.  I mean, considering I knocked out my own tooth, who knows what else I could do (my front tooth is a fake from an embarrassing shot in an unimportant racquetball game).  So, I decided I should be responsible and get and actually use the protection.  And I have.  No matter how silly I look with my sweatband and goggles...I've worn both. 

And what has wearing my protective eyewear given me?  A scratched cornea.  Ok, I didn't scratch it on the court.  I didn't even scratch it at all.  Chase was handing me a menu while we were out and he poked it right into my open and unassuming left eye.  The tricky part was that the corners were reinforced metal corners (a lot of restaurants have them, I've just never really noticed before).  Anyhow, as I held my eye in agony, I remember thinking that he had popped it;  that I would only have one eye for the rest of my life.  But it is fine.  It was painful, and they numbed it at the urgent care, and since then I just feel like I have something in my eye I want to rub out but can't (foreign object sensation is what the doctor called it).

I still can't believe I scratched my eye the first week I have ever even considered protecting my eyes.  Oh, the irony...complain, complain, complain.

Rock On!

Geology Rocks!  James second grade class play was so darling.  I sat in the audience thinking about how much he has grown.  He is such a confident and astounding boy, I feel lucky just to hang out with him.  We were chatting last night about the big performance (he has repeatedly reminded me of the time every) and he was running over his lines.  He then confessed that he knew everyone's lines in the play and proceeded to give me the lines of the Ferns, the Sedimentary Rock, Professor Rock, the Canyons, etc.  About twenty minutes in I told him he better go to sleep...but he would have kept going!! 

He played the most adorable igneous rock of all times.  Here he is (my favorite is the one with his after performance glow with his buddies)!  

The Story of a Hand-Me-Down

We have a neighbor who frequents our door with gifts of stained clothes, broken toys, and the orphaned pieces of games.  I usually try to greet him with a "no thank you" or a "not this time" or a "I just wish we had more room."  But if on the odd occasion my boys beat me to the door, they find treasures soon enough.  And invaritably, I find myself persuading and pleading:  "I don't really think we need the arm of that storm trooper,"  or a "wow, I love that left snow boot, but I really think you would probably need two next time we go to the snow.  Please put it back and thank Neighbor." 

But on this particular occasion I rounded the corner, just seconds after the door bell rang, and was greeted by a smiling raccoon.  He looked something like:

It is hard to talk someone out of a costume when they are wearing it and loving it, and Chase is no exception to this generally accepted rule. I tried to point out how far from Halloween we are...and how we don't really have a lot of space for extra costumes.  (Oh, did you notice the "s" in costumes.  Well, it is because there was The Shaggy Dog in the bag as well).  Anyhow, to shorten the story, Neighbor wouldn't take no for an answer.  Neighbor talked me into it;  rather hijacked me into it.  And Neighbor even had the guts to say, "We use it all of the time..." as he slowly and victoriously walked away. 

Now, here's the turning point to this story.  The part where I admit, Neighbor was right.  I was wrong.  After a good washing, which turned the yellow fur back to white, this costume has become a treasure.  More than a treasure, a treat.  Because who doesn't enjoy a little boy greeting you as a raccoon?! Chase loves this costume and does indeed "use it all the time."  It is, hands-down, the best hand-me-down of all times.  So hooray for the gently used friend and a neighbor who knew the joy and just had to share!

Toot and Kahmen

King Tut (Tutankhamun or Toot and Kahmen according to Chase) came to SF.  I was really debating whether or not to go.  It sounded cool, but I remembered how I felt in the Egyptian wing at the Met.  I would usually walk right through most of it.  Ok, I would stop at the Temple of Dendur, but quite possibly I just stopped to admire the high ceilings and the enormous glass windows and the looking pond (all of which have nothing to do with Egypt).  But I successfully talked myself into it with cliches like "once in a lifetime"...and off we went.

We had lunch outside and the Lunchables stole the show.  I was worried we that this may indeed be the highlight...but, fortunately, I was wrong.  The kids loved it.  Chase loved listening to his device; he would type in the number and summarize what was going on. And then I brought Model Magic for the kids to sculpt their favorite artifact.

James made an ahnk and the dagger that was found on the Boy King (on the actual mummy - and mummies and eight year olds hold quite the fascination).  Chase found a polar bear, that turned out to be a lion, on top of a canopic jar that he had to create.  He also wanted to make the beetle on this amazing necklace (I want one), and of course his own ahnk.

Too Much Forehead

Chase has always been a problem solver.  So this morning when I combed his hair and it got into his eyes, he took care of it.  He took those scissor and with one snip removed quite a lot of hair. 

In all honesty, I couldn't help but laugh, but effectively hid my laughter and even somehow ended up thanking him for taking care of those pesky bangs.  But I did suggest that next time we should really let a "professional" help.  He agreed and in his own words admitted that he was "showing too much forehead." 

But when we went into Golden Shears and Woody started cutting all that pretty golden hair, I felt sad; the kind of sad that still can't hide a wide smile.  I secretly hoped one of my boys would be this kind of capricious.

But he does look sooo much older.

Brides, Brides, Brides

My little flower business is blooming.  And the bride I have been talking to recently sent me this little picture as inspiration...and I am feeling exactly that, inspired.  I see this picture and know all the flowers; from the stock to the tulips parrots.  I see the color in a new way; the nuance of the pink the fact it is a warm pink with yellow undertones.  What a fun little hobbie this is turning out to be.  I also have a secret flower blog -- that isn't done.  But considering I have business cards that say Spring Street Floral Design, I think I am getting brave enough to share. 

Dancing the Night Away

Abbie and Danny are married!

The reception was beautiful, and Abbie was even more radiant. We ate and laughed and danced. Even when the music stopped for a moment, everyone kept dancing and singing. "Don't Stop Believing, Hold on to that Feeling" when both James and Chase kept singing I knew that I had done my job as a mother. They know their Glee (Journey) songs and they can sing them!

Snowmouse

We rolled snow into small balls and made the cutest little snowman snowmouse. 

Snowshoeing

These pictures are some of my favorite...I think they actually liked this better than skiing.  They seemed to float on the snow!  So cute (althought it didn't last too long).  Thanks to the Christensen's for letting us invade their cabin!

"Program"

It is all about the "program" -- growing up we had to perform at family gatherings:  sometimes silly things like reciting the alaphabet backwards at Grandma Naine and Grandpa Jim's fiftieth, and other times a more reverant song like "O Holy Night" one Christmas.  In our youth we would kick against the pricks and complain and whine.  But now, we love it.  This Christmas was no different.  The boy team sang the traditional "Dashing Through the Snow" with my boys as reindeers, Weston an adorable Rudolph.  But they also sang James's favorite version:

Dashing through the snow

in a pair of broken skiis

Crashing into trees

The sky is turning red

I think I'm almost dead

I find myself in the hospital

with staples in my head

8

James got baptized on his birthday.  When he came up out of the water he had a smile, and looked to find my eyes.  Afterwards I asked him how he felt and he said, "I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off my shoulders."

Nothing Sweet About It

When I watched SYTYCD this week the Mandy Moore number really hit me. No, it wasn't because I was reminded of the other Mandy Moore (who stole my heart in A Walk to Remember--scary, I know). And no, it wasn't because I was watching one of my favorite two shows (Glee is the top favorite these days). It was the cane, the cane.

You see, I have been hobbling around on a cane for the past two weeks. I reinjured the soccer ankle in a game AGAIN. And when I went to the doctor they said that I needed crutches. But, you see, crutches and I are deep enemies. In high school there was a long walk down Coleman Avenue on a rainy afternoon with crutches and since then, I can't bear the thought. My arms literally start protesting (and who I am kidding, I would need my arms in a fight). So, I asked her if there was anything else I could do. A cane was her only other suggestion.

So, with thoughts of Hugh Laurie from House and Fred Astaire's dancing cane, I reconciled myself to the cane I now own. And when I saw two people dance with a cane, it hurt inside because I don't make my cane look fabulous. In fact, I have started to leave it behind, much to Chase's chagrin.

Opposed to me, Chase loves the cane. James loves the cane. They even loved the medical supply store where we bought it. Picture Chase driving the motorized scooter around the parking lot and James in his wheelchair. When James sat down in the chair he honestly said, "I could live in this thing," and then begged me to buy him one the rest of the time. Who knew?

Now to the point of this tangent: I hate not being able to walk. It is tragic and reminds me with every step how good I had it. I love legs and the ability to move. I love ankles that twist and a body that can run. And I am determined to be more thankful...because I really do have it good!

The Status Report

People ask me all the time if I am divorced. I'm not, yet. It has been the longest, stinkiest process you could imagine. It is hard to believe that it has been two years since I flew to NY and discovered the truth. But I am hoping in a few months it will be over. As over as it can be.

People also ask me all the time if they can set me up. I can't even begin to say how scary that thought is...I feel like, I've already tried that once, why would I do it again. I honestly gave everything I could think of...and the thought of a second time is frightening.

---

There is an old movie called, The Gay Divorcee. Fred Astaire dances around in his lighter-than-air style and makes it seem so easy, so freeing. I am sad to say it isn't easy or freeing. It just gets more and more complicated. I think perhaps the hardest part is that the person that I knew best in this world, ultimately didn't think I was good enough. It is hard deep inside to face that type of harsh reality and convince myself that I am good enough. (And I am, I've decided).

For some reason, at thirty two, I have to sometimes fight the feeling of being used goods. My youth and bloom are gone (who am I kidding, they were gone at 16), but there is something new in its place. A richness of empathy and sorrow and a conviction that I can do the hardest of things. My well is deeper than me...it is the people around me, the strength I genuinely find in prayer and belief, the knowledge that I have something valuable to offer. And that is what I now fill most of my thoughts with; not with what I am lacking, but with what I can contribute.

I sometimes, theoretically, wish that life didn't have so many road bumps. But somehow, I can't really wish away the very things that make me strongest.

The Sage Advice a Cavity Once Gave Me

I went to the dentist recently and found out that James had five cavities and one of them needed a root canal...but get this, you can't get a root canal if your teeth aren't all the way developed. So, we have to see an Endodontist every couple of months until it grows completely. Oh, did I mention the hole is on his permanent tooth?!

This is all I could think about as I drove home: I am now, officially, doing permanent damage to my children. Up to this point everything that I did as a mother will be forgotten. Sure, they may at some deep level feel more secure or loved because of all the time and energy I have put in as a mother. But they won't remember half of it, ok they won't remember a tenth of it. And if I rarely helped them brush their little teeth, it was alright because I knew those little teeth would be falling out and I would have a second chance. There was no pressure. But now, James is in second grade. And all I know is that I have clear memories of second grade. I remember people and conversations, and moments of my life.

I don't know why, but I lost it. I cried for two days straight over this little tooth. And more than that, when a few days time started to give me some perspective and I started to laugh about it, I knew that I couldn't blog about it. I couldn't actually be honest with most of the people in my life who I am certain would laugh along with me over the tears, the tooth, and the bit of honest reflection. I have been writing on the periphery of my own life. I have been genuinely afraid that if I showed weakness, somehow my children's father would use it against me in a court of law. And it was at last facing this sobering reality that has led me to change the way I weild my words.

I want to be honest, and open, and not be afraid of consequences. At one point, a friend told me that my blog was a hollow reminder of what I once was -- ouch...but true. I have been holding back, my friends. But here I am: reclaiming another piece of myself. Raw. Poorly written. But real.

And thanks for the pieces of you that I get over time. My relationships throughout my life are my greatest treasure. S0, truly, thank you.

Angie Unleashed

So, I am going to go private but you are invited if you ever peak in. Drop me a quick note if you want me to add you and send me your email if you don't think I have it!!

Pink, Pink, Pink

I don't have girls and so I really took advantage of working with so many beautiful pink flowers for this last wedding. I needed a tiara on to properly celebrate this femine color. Oh, I got to use pink rice flowers (a new favorite to add interesting texture and depth). I had to share these pink beauties!

Thanks to Dustin Izatt who took the pictures.

Big Sur

The California Coast Line is unbelievably breathtaking. As we would drive I would tell the boys with every other breath, "Look out the window! Isn't it amazing? Are you seeing this?" And it is at precisely this moment that I realize I am turning into my father...I want to take the longer, but more scenic routes. I am curious as to what those signs in brown say scattered along the road, at rest stops, etc. In this case, I find myself wondering all about the Pfeiffers, and why they get so much amazing property named after them. So blue. So beautiful.

Unconventional School Poses

...but so adorable!

five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred

We were in the car for about five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. And we traveled what seemed to be five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred miles. But we made it. The boys and I drove from Tahoe, to Salt Lake City, to the Grand Canyon, LA, and back home.

What an unforgettable adventure...it only took two books on tape (Daughter of Fortune for me and Fudge for the boys), a High School Musical marathon (1, 2, and 3), music (mostly coming from SYTYCD - Mad by NeYo and Battlefield by Jordin Sparks, but there was a good amount of Jason Mraz and musicals like Pajama Game and Wicked), backseat books (from Where's Waldo to The Mysterious Benedict Society), food in the form of Wheat Thins and carrots (they just really hit the spot for all of us, oh and Diet Coke), and various odd games like Travel Connect Four and Hungry, Hungry, Hippo. I am so glad we did it!

Engaged

My youngest sister, Abbie, is visiting and did I mention, engaged?!

Congrats, Danny and Abbie!

Book Eating Boy

I was just introduced to a darling picture book by Oliver Jeffers, The Incredible Book Eating Boy...a book about my son. James wanted to read 75 books through the library's summer reading program and he finished in under a month. There are a handful of picture books and choose your own adventures (don't worry, he chose every adventure). But, he truly must have been eating them instead of reading them.

For posterity, here is the list:
The Ruins of Gorlan by John Flanagan
The Magic Finger by Roald Dahl
Found by Margaret Peterson Haddix
Eragon by Christopher Paolini
Swordbird by Nancy Yi Fan
And Nobody Got Hurt 2 by Len Berman
Prisoner of the Ant Peopleby R. A. Montogmery
Summer Ball by Mike Lupica
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain
Eagle by Jeff Stone
Snake by Jeff Stone
The Pocket Dangerous Book for Boys by Conn Inggulden and Hal Iggulden
Go! The Whole World of Transporation
Fast Forwards by Paul Ladewski
The Gecko and Sticky: Villian's Lair by Wendelin Van Draanen
Nicholas Again by Rene Goscinny
Nate the Great and the Tardy Tortoise by Craig Sharmat and Marjorie Sharmat
Nate the Great San Francisco Detective by Mitchell Sharmat and Marjorie Sharmat
Redwall by Brian Jacques
Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules by Jeff Kinney
The Battle of the Labrynth by Rick Riordan
The Fabulous Bouncing Chowder by Peter Brown
Chowder by Peter Brown
Fireman Small by Wong Herbert Yee
The Million Dollar Shot by Dan Gutman
Give My Regrets to Broadway by Bruce Hale
Percy Jackson and the Olympians The Demigod Files by Rick Riordan
Encyclopedia Brown Solves them All by Donald J Sobol
The Dragonslayers by Bruce Coville
Escape by R A Montgomery
Jackie and Me by Dan Gutman
The Tales of King Arthur Retold by Felicity Brooks
The Capture by Kathryn Lasky
Skunkdog by Emily Jenkins
Timothy and the Strong Pajamas by Viviane Schwarz
The Great Brain by John D Fitzgerald
Michael Jordan by Chip Lovitt
Monkey by Jeff Stone
On the Field with Peyton and Eli Manning by Matt Christopher
Coraline by Neil Gaiman
The Sword Thief by Peter Lerangis
Joe Montana's Art and Magic of Quarterbacking by Joe Montana
I Know and Old teacher by Anne Bowen
Peter and the Secret of Rundoon by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson
The Malted Falcon by Bruce Hale
A Book by Mordecai Gerstein
My Life as a Chicken by Ellen A Kelly
Center Court Sting by Matt Christopher
The Mystery of the Maya by R A Montgomery
The Monsters of Morley Manor by Bruce Coville
Trouble is my Beeswax by Bruce Hale
Charlie Small Gorilla City by Charlie Small
The True Meaning of Smekday by Adam Rex
The Lost Jewels of Nabooti by R A Montgomery
Nicholas and the Gang by Rene Goscinny
Fireman Small Fire Down Below by Wong Yee
The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
Dr. De Soto by William Steig
The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey by Trenton Lee Stewart
The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Leigh Stewart
Red Dragon Codex by R D Henham
The Perfect Nest by Catherine Friend
Scritch Scrath by Miriam Moss
The Butter Battle Book by Dr. Seuss
One by Kathryn Otashi
I Left My Sneakers in Dimension X by Bruce Coville
The Kid Who Became President by Dan Gutman
Farewell My Lunch Bag by Bruce Hale
The Evil Power Master by RA Montomery
Space and Beyond by R A Montgomery
The Basket Counts by Matt Christopher
The Million Dollar Strike by Dan Gutman
Abner and Me by Dan Gutman
The Big Nap by Bruce Hale
Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

Cornrows

I am not averse to putting terrible pictures of myself up (see exhibit A)...and in this case, I had no choice. This particular photo is the only one I have that shows my cornrows. I went to girls camp in the Sierras and had Ridi braid my hair.

It was so weird to go back as an adult leader and see behind the scenes how much hard work goes into making camp run.

I felt small beside the pine trees, but more alive at the same time. But besides the girls and the majesty, my favorite part was serenading. After the lights go out, the older girls go around and serenade all of the girls.

This is the chorus of one of my favorite songs (I actually use it as one of my standard bedtime lullabies):

It’s a web like a spider’s web
Made of silver light and shadows
Spun by the moon in my room at night
It’s a web made to catch a dream
Hold it tight ‘til I awaken
As if to tell me my dream is all right

Free Rice

I've known about Free Rice for quite some time, but it wasn't until I learned you can switch subjects that I am officially obsessed. I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself.

So, the basic idea is if you click on the image above it will take you to the website; where by answering questions right they will donate rice to the UN World Food Program. There are vocabularly questions, but if you click up on the "Subjects" tab you will see that you can answer Spanish, Math, Geography questions...but the one I can't master but am loving is the Famous Paintings. And there is something so satisfying about it; these are the things that you could hear James saying(he is obsessed too)...

It's a Caravaggio, I just know it, look at the dark and light.

Mom, it is 100% a Monet.

Could it be a Vermeer? What does a Vermeer look like again?

That's Some Egg

In Charlotte's Web, one of the adjectives carefully quilted into a web was some. That's, "some pig." I think she also wove radiant and humble (which seem like better choices)...but all of this is besides the point.

This morning we cracked open this fresh Ostrich egg and had fried egg whites and scrambled egg for breakfast (by we, I mean James and Chase). But before we feasted, we talked ostrich shop. We had to look up ostriches on the National Geographic Website. We had to watch the YouTube video of an ostrich attacking a camera and even one of an ostrich race. This, of course, reminded me of the genius race from Swiss Family Robinson where Ernst, wearing a straw top hat, does indeed ride on an ostrich.

Now, Swiss Family Robinson was really more of a way of life than a movie to me. I watched this movie perhaps more than anything else (ok, Overboard is really high on this list for some reason as well). Anyhow, I was able to find it and watch it with my boys and can I just say that A. I love the youngest brother, Francis, who catches an elephant and accidentally blows up coconut bombs, B. don't know why Disneyland switched it to a Tarzan tree house - it was sooo the Swiss Family Robinson's and always will be, and C. I think my brother Pat grew up to be Fritz.

Can I also say on a semi-ostrich related topic, that the Road Runner always looked more like an ostrich to me than a actual road runner...but, maybe it is just me.

Pop

Ok, this entry has a theme song...one you'll have to hum along, to help set the mood. It was that song Pop, or maybe it was called Dirty Pop by 'NSync. You know the era; back when Timberlake had curly hair. You would cringe to hear the bubble-gummiest pop on the radio, but somehow you still knew all the words to Bye, Bye, Bye. Ok, now that you know the song, I am ready to really hit it...

I like pop culture.

That's right, I said it. And like is probably an understatement.

I think that I spent so much of my childhood with my nose turned up to the hoi polloi...I was too concentrated on being cool or unique or something. I would stay far away from anything that was popular for example I never wore those floral boxers from Gap when everyone else did in the seventh grade. Maybe a better example is that I missed out on the New Kids On the Block obsession. Donny, Johnny, something, someone. And now that they are back, I am left wondering what I missed. I don't have the excitement that people around me do (mostly those people waiting days to see them on morning show rounds). Now some would say that I didn't miss out on New Kids; one might even argue that I narrowly escaped. But it isn't the talent, it is the feeling that I am talking about.

For example, I truly am so caught up in who Jillian is going to choose. I didn't want to get involved with something as desperately cheesy as rose ceremonies. And normally, I am a perfectly happy sideline mocker. But this time around, I care. I am more than relieved that the Bastard is gone, confused about how she has fallen for the neurotic Reid, worried that there hasn't been enough time with Ed, and concerned that Kiptyn can't really fall deep because he is too cautious.

I lalalaLOVE SYTYCD. It is hands down my favorite show of the year. I love to watch these people dance. Love.

I watch what I can of funerals of people I really was never that invested in, but want to hear what their childhood friend's say about this mysterious man who never really grow up.

I get excited when I see HSM 3 on showtime...you mean I get to watch Troy dance throughout the halls of his high school some more...great, I'll stay up until the wee hours of the morn. I've been blaming the obsession on Chase who genuinely loves High School Musical anything...but who am I kidding, I am the one who bought the soundtrack and listened over and over and over and, well, you get it.

If I listed my top ten friends; Luke, Lorelai, and Rory would be on that list.

I've watched the trailer for New Moon several times! Did I think the first movie was good? Absolutely not...I laughed through the entire thing. But, it doesn't stop me from wanting to see the next one. And it is more than wanting, I really love this "getting caught up in the hype".

I'm not sure if my ennui has pushed me to this desperate loving of all things pop culture, but I think it possibly more than that. I think that life is more fun getting caught up in the silly, the frivolous. I think that if I had the chance, I might start buying up Beanie Babies or collecting Star Wars figurines. I think that finding joy in the mundane is supremely rewarding. It is perhaps my own little paradigm shift. But for now, call me Bridget Jones and wish me a little more levity in life.

Family

I love my family! And I love Hawaii!
...but I am still trying to figure out: what is the point of living if we all don't live in Hawaii (and by all, I mean everyone, everywhere).

Shaka

I'm Wishing...

I had a crazy dream last night. Andy Samberg (of snl fame) and I were eating pastries at Cassis in Manhattan. Satire was rolling off our tongues in the form of conversation. We were bandying about talk of Progressivism and Ahmadinejad, it was all very pithy and witty.

But after awhile, I started to focus less on conversation and more on setting. There, next to the table, was a wishing well. A small wishing well...I half expected a miniature Snow White to come whistling by with her wishes, but she didn't come. And I just kept looking at its blueness. Did I mention it was a blue wishing well, well it was and I kept wondering what was inside.

I woke up and still wondered. And this is what I've come up with...wishing wells are full of wishes and I am wishless. Lately, I live fully rooted in the present. Wishes are for dreamers and quite honestly thinking of the future isn't something I've wanted to do. I would much rather just focus on the here and now, and try to make the most of it...because what's next? Who knows? Least of all me. But after thinking about this wishing well of my dream, I've decided that I don't want it to be empty. I want a dream. I'm not sure what it will be, but I'm working on it, and that's something.

As for Andy...I have no idea...other than have you seen him as a white Rastafarian? or when he danced in "Single Ladies" with Justin Timberlake? Or even Blizzard Man? Too funny!

Opening Day

The Boys are Back

High School Musical 3 is really more of a way of life than a movie for Chase. He puts on his "Troy" costume and dances and sings and is quite frankly, the most adorable four year old!

...And then you hit a pole

Do you ever feel like you are your own worst enemy?

I seem to have the amazing ability to walk into walls and trip over my own two feet. I spill and I brake things - and I can't blame it on my toddler stage, because let's face it, that is far behind me. I have seriously considered never shaving my legs again, because I don't want another little cut on my leg.

It is almost as if I have found enough patience to deal with spilled milk and grumpy children, the semi that is stuck in an endless three-point turn the middle of the street and the sore throat that never seems to heal; but when it comes to stubbing my toe -- that's it, I'm through. I have so little patience for my own clumsiness.

For example, the other morning I went to walk the dish. And more than that, I invited someone I casually know from James school -- my attempt to reach out. So, I was feeling good - exercise and a friend - you go girl. But, it was in that very moment, that I hit an invisible pole. I was parking on the side of the road, and I swear that it didn't exist. I saw a pole five feet away, that I wanted to be sure to avoid, but the pole that I hit, well, I didn't see that one. But, trust me, the dent is proof that even if it was invisible it had some serious wrecking capacity. And then, I felt silly and embarrassed and definitely mad at myself. Why? When there is so much on my plate, must I go and do ridiculous things. I was busily balancing childrening, cooking, working, family-ing, soccer playing, book reading, bookbinding, mentoring, teaching, churching, visiting, volunteering, James schooling, running, Bachelor watching, cooking...I don't have space for body shopping on my mom's new car. Oh, did I mention I was driving my mother's car? I know, I sound like I am in high school, but it's true. I dented a new car. New and not mine. Sigh.

Life's a...and then you hit a pole.

A Four Year Old

His shirt apporpriately says, "Terror of the Seas"

150 Balloons make for an awesome Ocean

Happy Football Weekend

Dad, I love the football under your arm in this photo.

Flowers + Damask

I never showed you these flowers I did for a wedding last year...the bride was gorgeous in a short dress and he took amazing photos!

Baa-nah nuuuhh SLUG SLUG SLUG SLUG

Baa-nah nuuuhh SLUG SLUG SLUG SLUG!!!!

Ba-nana slug, banana-nana-nana
Ba-nana slug, banana-nana-nana
Ba-nana slug, banana-nana-nana

If kissing a banana slug brings good luck, what does licking do? Don't worry, we didn't find out.