November 21, 2007

I confess…

That today is False Confessions Day. My confession is that I’m very, very, VERY excited about this. Heh.

Thanksgiving. Tomorrow. Turkey, ham, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole. I can feel my hips widening at the very thought of the desserts that will line my mother’s buffet. I’m bringing the Blueberry Cheeseycake. Grandma’s recipe never fails to satisfy the sugary appetites of my family, and of course it sticks right to my thighs.

I still haven’t gotten the ingredients I need from the grocery store. I’m procrastinating and I have no excuse for this behavior. Especially when I was at the store yesterday to get stir-fry seasoning. I just didn’t have the patience to deal with it. More about that in a moment.

Yesterday I left work and hour early because I had an appointment for my annual eye exam. Dr. Rollins’ office was remodeled over the summer and it’s really nice. I worked for Doc six years ago for about six months and I couldn’t get over the change in the floor layout and design theme. It’s bright yellow and cheery now, as opposed to mauve and dark. Doc lectured me about not wearing my contacts and relying on my glasses. He thinks the migraines I experience are due to constantly putting on and taking off my glasses too much throughout the day. Back to lenses it is.

After the eye exam, I went to get my hair cut. I was originally going for just a trim, but I told Liz (my stylist) to chop it up and make me look funky. Boy, did she. I’ll put up a photo asap. It’s longer in the front and mucho short in the back. I can’t explain it very well, a photo will be required to give you the idea. I suppose it’s kind of like a crooked bowl-cut. I think?

When I got home after my appointments, I was in no mood to run back out to the store. Doug wasn’t sure what to make for dinner and I begged him to find something in the freezer to thaw. We agreed on stir-fry but realized we had no seasoning, other than ginger. I mean, what do you put in besides ginger? Garlic? Pepper? My husband even called the grocery store where he works to ask one of the guys to read the label on the stir-fry seasoning to see if we could match it at home. No dice.

I reluctantly put my shoes back on and drove the 1/2 mile to Copps Food Center. While there, I grabbed the seasoning and ran to stand in line behind the morons nice people in the check-out lanes. These idiots lovely patrons were doing their last minute holiday shopping. Their carts were piled high with stuff, the lines were long, and every single lane was open. Do you think I had the common sense to go back and get the graham crackers, cream cheese and pie filling I needed? No….that would be too difficult.

I rationalized by saying there were too many people in the store and I didn’t want to have to climb over carts to get what I needed. Besides that, I didn’t want to lose my place in the line I stood in for twenty-five minutes. The only moron in that store was me.

As if today will be any different? Hardly. And yet, I have to go back there and get the junk or else my father will be very disappointed that he didn’t get his annual dish of blueberry torte this Thanksgiving.

The good news is that I won’t have to drag Dawson to the store with me. My father is picking him up from daycare today, and Dawson will be staying overnight at my parents’ house. I packed his Lightning McQueen suitcase with pajamas and a change of clothes, and he’s taking his Kermit the Frog sleeping bag with him. This morning, I was explaining to Dawson what a sleeping bag is and how he’ll use that when he goes to bed tonight. When we got to daycare he ran up to Renee and said, “Look at my sleeping frog, Nae!” We both couldn’t stop laughing.

I’m wishing this workday would end quickly…I want to go home and drink an entire bottle of wine tonight! You know, because Dawson is sleeping elsewhere! Holy crap! This means Doug and I can sleep in our own bed next to each other!

Are you procrastinating this holiday season?

November 1, 2007

NaBloPoMo & A Birthday Tribute to My Mother

It’s the first day of NaBloPoMo and I’m all geared up to blog every single day for the month of November.

You may remember that I participated in this event last November. It was the most thrilling, yet most difficult thing I’ve done in regard to blogging.

It’s so easy to blog when you feel like it. Trying to come up with content every single day was maddening, but I discovered that I was a better blogger because of it. I made an effort to come up with interesting content and I’m so glad that I took the NaBloPoMo challenge.

In honor of this grueling month of blog posting, I’ve created a theme. I’m going to try to find a holiday (some of them wacky or weird) for every day of the month! I have no idea what I’m in store for, but it will keep things interesting!

Today is All Saints Day, and to kick off the first post, I must wish my mother a very happy birthday.

My mother was born November 1, 1951. You can do the math to calculate her age. I’m sure she’d be mad if I actually typed the number 56. Oh darn. Did I do that? (This is all in fun, Mom.)

A former school teacher, my mother is one amazing lady. She’s patient, kind, cautious and so very smart. Whenever I’m in doubt about one thing or another, my mother is ready and waiting to give her advice. This is often both welcomed and resented depending on the circumstances, but when I really think about it, I’m grateful to have my mother’s support when I most need it.

As the oldest of seven children, I think my mom learned to be a caregiver early in her life. She also worries. Constantly. About everything. I’m not exaggerating. Seriously. She’s forever concerned with the well being of her children, grandchild, as well as her siblings, even though they are grown up and have lives of their own.

My mother is conscientious of the feelings of others and she always makes the effort to help those in need, if she can. She raised her children with an ardent faith in God and she believes that the answer to any problem is prayer, most significantly the Rosary.

The thing I love most about my mom is her ability to be funny in the oddest moments. Take for example last Sunday when Dawson and I were visiting.

We were sitting in the living room and she said to me, “Dana, can you do sit-ups?”

“Yeah, why?”

“How many can you do?”

“I dunno, 40 or 50, maybe? I haven’t done them in awhile.”

“I can’t do them.”

“Sure you can! Let’s do some right now. I’ll show you.”

“No…I can’t.”

I managed to convince her and my father moved the coffee table out of the way. Mom and I sprawled onto the floor and I did a few crunches with her.

“These aren’t real sit-ups!” she exclaimed.

“I know, Mom. We don’t do those at the gym. We do crunches. I’ll show you another exercise for your lower abdominals.”

I told her to do some leg raises and then asked her to do the bicycle.

“My bicycle is outside! I can’t ride it in the house!”

I never laughed so hard in my life, until I looked over at my mother, who was “pedaling” her feet while holding her legs in the air. It was funnier yet, when I saw she was laughing right along with me.

It’s moments like these that I’ll remember forever.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

October 27, 2007

Memories of the Moon

On Thursday my family attended a Halloween party at our church.  Dawson wore a spider costume I forgot I had.  I bought it several years ago before I had children.  I liked it because it was made of black, purple and green felt material and it was versatile in that a boy or a girl could wear it.  I knew that someday I’d have a child and he or she would make and adorable spider.

I dressed Dawson in a black turtleneck and black sweatpants and put the costume over the top.  Adorable indeed.

The “spider legs” of the costume were attached to each other with a long string that tied around Dawson’s wrists.  He loved to raise his arms so that the “spider legs” would raise up, too.

My parents came along and it was so nice to watch my father help Dawson decorate a brown paper sandwich bag to carry his treats in.  My mother was having a fantastic time admiring all the children in their costumes.  And Doug was just happy to have someone else to talk to while I ran around, insanely taking pictures.

Dawson loved decorating a pumpkin with stickers and yarn.  He made the cutest little punkin’.  We all had some Halloween treats and decorated pumpkin cookies, too.

The five of us went to the party in my dad’s truck and when we were driving home, Dawson pointed to the full moon in the dark sky.

“Look, Poppa!  Ders da moon!” he said.

My mother was sitting next to me in the back seat and she asked, “Do you remember when the Doodlebug was only 18 months old, and he could say just the one word, ‘moon’?”

I closed my eyes and remembered the days when Dawson would sit in his car seat and look out the window as we drove to our destination.

“Moooooon.” he would say, as he watched the pie in the sky.  He repeated the word several times until he was certain he had it right.   He was our little moon pie.

“I remember,” I told my mother.  “He loved to say the word over and over again.”

At that moment I realized that I’ve become so unaware of time. My memory from 19 months ago, felt like it happened decades before.

Where does all the time go?  Why haven’t I been paying closer attention?  Why haven’t I been writing these memories down like I once did?  When did I get so busy and stressed out?

I’m so thankful that my mother was able to help me stop and reflect.  Before I know it, my little boy will be grown up and I will be grasping to hold on to these memories.  But what if I forget?

The thought scares me.  I want to hold on to every moment until the end of time.  I want to write down even the most boring details, because they won’t seem so boring in twenty years.  I’ll want to remember the good and the dull.

I made a promise to use blogging as a tool to remember the times of our lives that are important.  But sometimes I’m too busy to take the time to blog it all.  And then I feel bad about it.  I used to write in a journal, but even that became tiresome.  What’s worse is that I love scrap booking, but somehow I got behind with my archiving.  (By nine months!  Good grief!)

How do you record your memorable moments?  Are you organized?  Do you blog exclusively or do you do other things to preserve your precious memories?  I’d love to read about what works for you.

September 25, 2007

No Pink Lines Here

Sunday afternoon my husband invited his friend Dan and my father over to watch the Packer game. Football is big in my family, and if you’re not a Packer fan, then you’ll suffer “the consequences”, which usually involves a bet with my father and an eventual head shaving. This is a blog post in itself, so just take my word for it. It gets ugly. And if you’re a Chicago Bears fan? My father will tease you and rib you forever.

My mom came along with my dad and we left the “boys party” to take a trip to Walmart. It was supposed to be just us, but at the last minute Doug and my dad asked if we’d take Dawson along. So much for a break from the toddler.

I purchased some new fall/winter clothes for Dawson, two new plants (one is Baby’s Tears and the other is English Ivy — they are gorgeous), dog food for Murphy, various feminine hygiene products and a pregnancy test. I figured it was time to stop playing the waiting game and just pee on the stick already.

After everyone left, I did my business and came up with a negative result. Just like I knew I would. Just like all the other times before (well, except when Dawson was conceived of course).

I didn’t cry. I didn’t get irrational or very upset. But I was sad and quiet the rest of the evening. Doug didn’t say very much. I don’t know if he was sad or relieved. Maybe a combination of both.

I still have no idea when the period will show up. I dropped off the prescription for the BP meds. I suppose I should start taking them, now that we know I’m not pregnant.

But there’s just one thing; when I was pregnant the first time, I had two negative pregnancy tests before a positive pink line appeared. My ob/gyn attributed it to my lengthy menstrual cycles, and said that the hCG hormone appears much later for me.

So, there’s still hope. Maybe.

And now my mind is playing tricks on me. I felt nauseous yesterday. I’m over tired today.

It’s just stress, I know that. But for real…I can hope right? Blah. I’m just setting myself up for disappointment later.

I’m going to the gym. I have twenty-five pounds to lose by January 1st. Wish me luck.

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**Be sure to visit my guest essay at The Mommybloggers, if you feel so inclined!