In transition

My house is a very clean house. So clean, the realtor could have shown it to clients and I wouldn’t be one bit nervous.

Oh yeah, the client called and changed his appointment to next week “sometime.”

I swear, deeper posting will happen soon. I have ideas, but no energy. Well that and I’ve taken my fingerprints off with cleaning products. Hmmm, if you don’t hear from me, shhh.

12:00pm JICP

Families, spouses, and good friends forced along for moral support are all welcome. We aren’t a scary bunch, for the most part. I’m pretty sure Eugene is bringing his dogs to play at the dog park. My basset hounds are retarded and not allowed out in public. ever. again.

I’ll bring a cooler full of ice, napkins, and plates. Would someone mind getting some plasticware?

Sunnie e-mailed me as a “maybe.”

I’m being haunted by a memory or perhaps it was a dream. I don’t know any longer.

I do know when I drive narrow highways, twisting through the trees, I remember a house, maybe more of a cabin. It was brown and set back in the trees. I remember swimming on a hot, sunny day, much like today, too early to be Indian Summer, but too late to feel carefree. I remember kissing a boy in a swimming hole. I was happy there, in the warm, green water. I don’t think I was in love or trying to convince myself I was and I don’t remember who he was. I remember sinking to the bottom of the pond and looking up through the sun spangled surface, surrounded by people, yet immersed in silence.

It could have been Eutawville, Ridgeville, Bethera, or nowhere at all.

I drive on and hope one day to remember.

Either I’m gaining confidence or losing my mind. Regardless, I’ve applied for not one, but two jobs. They are both paid blogging positions and I would be thrilled with either. However, I will be satisfied if I just learn that I at least made it to the “we seriously considered your application” round.

Time will tell.

It’s dinner time. The children and husband are gathered around the table. We bow our heads to pray.

My husband asked if that was intentional.

No.

For weeks Aidan was begging for a “monkey cake.” I was clueless. Two days ago he changed his order to a “square cake.”

While it won’t win awards, I am pretty proud of how it turned out. (I did it freehand.)

During my late teens, I fell in love with The Tragically Hip. My favorite song was Fiddler’s Green.

A few months after I had Aidan, I was at the gym, minding my own business. Fiddler’s Green came on my MP3 player and all of a sudden I heard the first line in a new way. “September seventeen, for a girl I know it’s Mothers’ day.” It’s now Mother’s day for me, as well. It’s not been one bit like I expected, but is it ever?

Aidan, you bring amazement and laughter to our lives. Happy Birthday, little man.

I’m unabashedly stealing this idea from Shauna; mostly because I’ve been a little whiney as of late, but also as an exercise to remind myself of the many things I have to be thankful for.

• Friends. I am blessed with many. This week I am most thankful for Ivy who has pushed me to do something I would have chickened out of, on my own. Margo for hanging in there with me through this obnoxious summer. Finally for Lori, who doesn’t have a blog, but should. I used to be jealous of all the time Margo spent with her, but I’ve gotten over it.
• Tim. I don’t know how I got so lucky. He may drive me out of my mind at times, but even at his most obnoxious, he’s still a man I’m proud to call my husband.
• My boys. Aidan is working overtime to establish his independence, so these past weeks have been rough. A lady I know told me that if I get it right with him, peer pressure won’t really be on my list of things to worry about. He’s one headstrong little guy; I’ve just got to point him in the right direction. Mark, when he isn’t getting up three times a night, is a joy to be around. I’ll keep him anyway.
• Time. I’m thankful that I have time to give to others. I might complain about nursery duty or complain about being busy, but the fact is I do have the time, most of the time.
• Health. Overall, we are all healthy and that fact is priceless.
• On a related note… soft TP. No, really, it’s the time of year when my allergies flare up. Thank goodness for soft TP. I’m easy to spot, I’m the redhead with the red nose and watery eyes, carrying a roll of TP.
• My church. I’ve never belonged anywhere with such a strong sense of support and community; it’s an amazing feeling. I’ve never really experienced the safety net of family, so life always felt tenuous. Now, I know if something were to happen to Tim or I, sickness or accident, we wouldn’t face it alone.

There are many more things, but those boys of mine have not received their memo re: discontinuation of crack of dawn wake up calls.

What are you most thankful for, at this moment?

Weeks? Maybe it’s been a month.

I’m sure everyone has had a point in life where just as soon as they believe they’ve gotten a firm hold of things, someone decides to prove otherwise.

We’re right in the middle of that cycle. Everything will be just fine, it’s just tiresome while it happens. Yesterday, the battery on the jeep died. It was seven years old, but happened suddenly. This morning the jeep had a flat. There’s a lot of construction in the neighborhood, so this isn’t really unexpected, either. It’s still obnoxious. Tim took my car, so I’m stuck home with the boys. Moments after Tim left, Mark started pulling on his ear and screaming. Thankfully, Tylenol seemed to help and that will have to do, until tomorrow.

I see a fun day ahead, I’m just hoping for patience, scads of patience.

Today, I’m glad we don’t watch television. I’m not ready. It’s one thing to hear it on the radio, but I am just not ready to see it again.

Five years ago I was in Organic Chemistry lab. My professor was Asian and although her English was typically perfect, in her excitement she was unintelligable. We didn’t understand what she said. She spent most of the lab out of the room, which wasn’t unusual.

I remember the building being nearly deserted that morning. I knew something was happening. As I had an afternoon class, I stayed on campus to save gas. I found a television tuned to the news in an empty classroom. I sat in stunned silence and watched the towers fall.

I don’t know when I’ll be ready to see it again. I don’t know if I ever will be. Today is not the day, for me.

God bless everyone this event touched.