Often times when I am driving in the car Chloe will pipe up from the back seat: "Here mommy, I'm done!" Usually she is handing me an empty sippy cup or a wrapper from her snack. Typically, I blindly reach behind me and grab whatever it is she is holding. I rarely pay attention anymore, this has become part of our routine.
Today on the way home Chloe says "here mommy" so I reach back, not even thinking that she has not had anything to eat or drink. A rational person might wonder what it is she has to give, not I. As usual, I reach back and feel her tiny finger rub inside my palm, followed by something sticky.
Me: "Chloe, what are you giving Mommy?"
Chloe: (very matter of factly) "A boogie"
Nice.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Saturday, October 3, 2009
I've earned these...
Inevitably, every time I go to a drug store I take at least 5 minutes scanning the latest wrinkle creams. I carefully read the labels hoping to find some small sign that this one will miraculously work better than all the others. I delicately hold the jars, entranced by the packaging. I twist, sniff and then curse at myself for all of the money I've wasted thus far on these over advertised products.
The truth is I have been thinking about wrinkle cream since I was about 15. I would secretly stare at any woman I saw who I guesstimated to be over 30, carefully examining all of her laugh lines and creases, wondering what her skin care routine was. I vowed to myself that I would take care of my skin and at the first sign of a unwanted line I would high tail it to the corner store, purchase the best stuff they had (or the prettiest packaged) and stop those damn wrinkle right in their track! I like my smooth youthful skin and wasn't about to give it up without a fight! Oh, how vain...
Fast forward some 17 years. I wash my face at night, turning my freshly scrubbed skin many different angles to catch the rays of that unforgiving fluorescent light and sigh. I proceed to my bedroom and lather on my latest purchase, hoping that by morning my deepening crows feet will disappear at the same time saying a silent prayer that these frown lines near my jaw can only be seen by me.
Just as I am succumbing to the idea that this may be a losing battle, Chloe runs in singing the latest 'Black Eyed Peas' song, as only a 2 year old can, and gets me laughing so hard that I forget my obsession with my face.
As I lay my head down and begin to think of all the things I am thankful for, it dawns on me that these hated lines on my face tell about who I am, where I've been, and dammit, I've earned them.
I've laughed, cried, and fallen in and out of love. I've lied, prayed, drank, traveled, forgiven and cursed. I married my best friend, birthed two amazing daughters and buried a best friend. I am a wife, a mother, a friend, a sister, a daughter, an aunt, a cousin, and a teacher. I've been both a walking contradiction and the perfect example. I am unfinished.
32 years of life gave me these lines and I will forge ahead, openly, to the next 32. Even better to the 32 after that. Wrinkles....hmph.....bring them on.
The truth is I have been thinking about wrinkle cream since I was about 15. I would secretly stare at any woman I saw who I guesstimated to be over 30, carefully examining all of her laugh lines and creases, wondering what her skin care routine was. I vowed to myself that I would take care of my skin and at the first sign of a unwanted line I would high tail it to the corner store, purchase the best stuff they had (or the prettiest packaged) and stop those damn wrinkle right in their track! I like my smooth youthful skin and wasn't about to give it up without a fight! Oh, how vain...
Fast forward some 17 years. I wash my face at night, turning my freshly scrubbed skin many different angles to catch the rays of that unforgiving fluorescent light and sigh. I proceed to my bedroom and lather on my latest purchase, hoping that by morning my deepening crows feet will disappear at the same time saying a silent prayer that these frown lines near my jaw can only be seen by me.
Just as I am succumbing to the idea that this may be a losing battle, Chloe runs in singing the latest 'Black Eyed Peas' song, as only a 2 year old can, and gets me laughing so hard that I forget my obsession with my face.
As I lay my head down and begin to think of all the things I am thankful for, it dawns on me that these hated lines on my face tell about who I am, where I've been, and dammit, I've earned them.
I've laughed, cried, and fallen in and out of love. I've lied, prayed, drank, traveled, forgiven and cursed. I married my best friend, birthed two amazing daughters and buried a best friend. I am a wife, a mother, a friend, a sister, a daughter, an aunt, a cousin, and a teacher. I've been both a walking contradiction and the perfect example. I am unfinished.
32 years of life gave me these lines and I will forge ahead, openly, to the next 32. Even better to the 32 after that. Wrinkles....hmph.....bring them on.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Then and Now
Sleeping in; a pot of coffee; reading the newspaper cover to cover.
Up at 630; 1 cup of coffee reheated 5 times in the microwave; glimpse at the headlines.Reading a novel; long naps; lazy afternoons
Reading 'Snuggle Puppy'; a silent prayer for long naps; dishes & laundry; "did we have an afternoon?"Gourmet dinners, a bottle of wine, relaxing on the couch
Spaghetti; a sippy cup of milk; cleaning gum off the couch
Independent; happily married; incomplete
Depended upon; happily married; totally fulfilled.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Mouth of Babes
When you have a newborn, your language filter has not quite kicked on yet. You are able to speak freely, watch R rated movies, and drop an occasional curse without fear of influencing this very impressionable being.
As the child grows you become so used to having him or her around that you sometimes forget that they are beginning to comprehend more and are developing their own language.
Neither Matt nor I have "foul mouths" but on occasion we, like everyone else, use expletives that may not always be appropriate, especially to a toddler that listens and absorbs everything.
It's not just the listening that one needs to be aware of it's the repeating of such phrases and/or language that we fear.
Chloe was playing with her match cards the other morning while Matt & I were drinking a cup of coffee and having our own conversation. She dropped her cards and very matter of factly cries out: "Oh S**T, I made a mess!"
...mommy will take the blame for that one :)
As the child grows you become so used to having him or her around that you sometimes forget that they are beginning to comprehend more and are developing their own language.
Neither Matt nor I have "foul mouths" but on occasion we, like everyone else, use expletives that may not always be appropriate, especially to a toddler that listens and absorbs everything.
It's not just the listening that one needs to be aware of it's the repeating of such phrases and/or language that we fear.
Chloe was playing with her match cards the other morning while Matt & I were drinking a cup of coffee and having our own conversation. She dropped her cards and very matter of factly cries out: "Oh S**T, I made a mess!"
...mommy will take the blame for that one :)
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