Hi! Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Tracy... Okay, I'm very sorry it's been awhile. I took a little break and caught up with some sleep. Sweet ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZs!
I had an exciting weekend pretending to be a glam girl again. My Nanu, and one of my closest friends from college traveled to Austin (aka 6th St)for the weekend. So fun!
Let me tell you I do not miss being single in the meat market of the world. I wasn't out to meet and greet, mostly needed an excuse to find a great outfit with ridiculous shoes and accesorries I will never wear again. Again, so fun. Really, I wanted a good time to primp with sparkly eye shadow and "Big Tex" my hair. (So happy that's back in style. However, I still used Nanu ceramic straightener, blow dryer, then hot rollers. Oh, gotta love the damage and MORE joyous split ends.)
Truthfully, after all these years, I still like a dance floor and the buzz of crowded streets with silly adults playing with too much adult beverage.
There's a spirit in the air in Austin. Sometimes I want to capture it again, like a lightning bug, only to open up the jar in the morning and let it fly off.
It was good times reuniting with this spirit, but it's really good to be home in flip flops, chasing after laughing little girls and their stinky, dirty diapers and making little boys sandwiches with cookie cutters. I'll let those lightning bugs sparkle in their own light. Meanwhile, I think I might break out a little eyeshadow, turn up the music, and let Will flicker the lights while Avery and I spin in circles.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Thursday, February 23, 2006
On Auto-Pilot
In moments of self actualization I realize that Dave and I have been suffering from a dreadful Winter Syndrome. Yes, I realize that in San Antonio we’ve only had one real week of winter. It went by painfully slow and Avery and Will very much needed their backyard time. Note: this is my version of a play pen. It really works well when the shades and curtain are all open. Anyway, it has been winter long enough. And I’m breaking out of this routine. It’s true we are creatures of habit, but our neighbors are starting to think something’s happened to us. With the exception of Jana, who is more like a sister, I’m not too sure I’ve actually seen anyone since the neighborhood Christmas light extravaganza. Anyway, my whole opinion about routines is that you miss living if you’re always scheduling for something. It’s just easy to come home from school, run errands, go to Grandma Betty’s, work on flash cards, play outside, cook dinner, Daddy’s home, eat dinner, bathe, read, sleep SNORE. I don’t necessarily think we plan to be this boring, but again, it’s easy. So to celebrate spring and rejuvenation Avery and I planted flowers this morning. Good ol’ dirt time, just hope last a few weeks. And, we’re going to have some fun, no matter how much I’d much I’d rather sit on my tookus. I need to build memories with the kids and Dave, not just blurs.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Not So Sweet Surrenders
Yikes! I realize that it’s slightly past midnight and I’m just now starting to write. As a self-proclaimed night owl I have migrated my book, teddy bear, and favorite pillow. I know the dear, sweet sleeping husband would scoff at the sound of me creeping in after this particularly long battle between my eye lids shutting and my sheer will of staying up until I can hear the morning birds sing.
I admit it, I fight sleep like a newborn baby.
It started when I was young and I shared a room with my sis. I would sneak across to her bed, lift her eye lids, and hope she would wake up. This is, of course, rather annoying to someone who so very much covets her sleep. I'm so sorry Nanu! I hope you don't have sleep apnea becuase of me!!!
It’s really awful, but I cannot give into another day. In general I think sleeping gets in the way of life, unfortunatly I always decide this after everyone else has gone to bed. I think it’s the quiet that I’ve become addicted to. Maybe it’s the fact that I can be utterly and undeniably selfish. Maybe because Will is growing up way too fast and Avery's right behind him and I think if I don't sleep they will stay my babies for a little while longer. But quite possibly it could be nothing more than my after dinner treats or the cappuccino night cap. Tonight, I know it’s the leche quemada that Dave brought home from a business trip to Mexico – a delicious mix of condensed milk and more sugar! Yum!
Really, I’d like to be a morning person. In high school I would set three alarms – one on the nightstand, one under the bed, one on top of the bay windowsill a good 8 feet high. No luck, I would run circles with my eyes closed, duck and leap without feeling the cold air, and quickly recover my sweet slumber and pillow of drool in seconds. Only to stay up late chatting on the phone about obscure early morning things that don’t make sense in normal day time conversations.
In college I did become a morning person – I’d greet the early morning crowd at Magnolia’s with my last night’s party girl outfit and a slightly haggard look. Still no slumber for me! Wonderful days… Don’t get me wrong, some nights I stayed up late studying. Really. Just hit up some espresso beans and went straight to class.
When Will was just a few weeks old he developed a bit of a crying jag, only it started at about 9pm and lasted until 4am. We had many late night car rides around the lake, sling walks around the house, bouncing, patting, me crying along side. In retrospect, I really miss this: it really was such sweet times – just a little louder than most. It was just me and Will, united in fighting sleep along the way, trying to find the best way to relent against the snoozing temptation. He would finally fall to sleep with the sweetest most peaceful look I would gaze at him adorningly just a little longer, so happy he could be comforted.
So here I am, 1am, not giving in. But then I think about tomorrow, about being a genuine bear when everyone wakes up, about the fact that I can’t vacuum and pick up in the middle of the night, and although I am a fan of late night grocery shopping, I can’t exactly accomplish the things I need to until the sun is up. Therefore, I give in, I throw in the towel, I bury my head in the covers and let my eye lids shut peacefully as I dream of what comes tomorrow.
I admit it, I fight sleep like a newborn baby.
It started when I was young and I shared a room with my sis. I would sneak across to her bed, lift her eye lids, and hope she would wake up. This is, of course, rather annoying to someone who so very much covets her sleep. I'm so sorry Nanu! I hope you don't have sleep apnea becuase of me!!!
It’s really awful, but I cannot give into another day. In general I think sleeping gets in the way of life, unfortunatly I always decide this after everyone else has gone to bed. I think it’s the quiet that I’ve become addicted to. Maybe it’s the fact that I can be utterly and undeniably selfish. Maybe because Will is growing up way too fast and Avery's right behind him and I think if I don't sleep they will stay my babies for a little while longer. But quite possibly it could be nothing more than my after dinner treats or the cappuccino night cap. Tonight, I know it’s the leche quemada that Dave brought home from a business trip to Mexico – a delicious mix of condensed milk and more sugar! Yum!
Really, I’d like to be a morning person. In high school I would set three alarms – one on the nightstand, one under the bed, one on top of the bay windowsill a good 8 feet high. No luck, I would run circles with my eyes closed, duck and leap without feeling the cold air, and quickly recover my sweet slumber and pillow of drool in seconds. Only to stay up late chatting on the phone about obscure early morning things that don’t make sense in normal day time conversations.
In college I did become a morning person – I’d greet the early morning crowd at Magnolia’s with my last night’s party girl outfit and a slightly haggard look. Still no slumber for me! Wonderful days… Don’t get me wrong, some nights I stayed up late studying. Really. Just hit up some espresso beans and went straight to class.
When Will was just a few weeks old he developed a bit of a crying jag, only it started at about 9pm and lasted until 4am. We had many late night car rides around the lake, sling walks around the house, bouncing, patting, me crying along side. In retrospect, I really miss this: it really was such sweet times – just a little louder than most. It was just me and Will, united in fighting sleep along the way, trying to find the best way to relent against the snoozing temptation. He would finally fall to sleep with the sweetest most peaceful look I would gaze at him adorningly just a little longer, so happy he could be comforted.
So here I am, 1am, not giving in. But then I think about tomorrow, about being a genuine bear when everyone wakes up, about the fact that I can’t vacuum and pick up in the middle of the night, and although I am a fan of late night grocery shopping, I can’t exactly accomplish the things I need to until the sun is up. Therefore, I give in, I throw in the towel, I bury my head in the covers and let my eye lids shut peacefully as I dream of what comes tomorrow.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Saturday, February 11, 2006
A Great Man Nov 14, 1919 - Feb 7, 2006
I think God lets us know things in subtle ways, maybe not for ourselves but for those we love. When my Grandpa was in the hospital I dreamt that he passed away at 9 o'clock. I woke up with a sad, sinking feeling in my heart. The rational world came back and my gulped sweet, cold morning air - it's only 4:oo, if something happend last night someone would have called me. So the days came and went cautiously. My Grandpa was getting a little more tired each day. Sometimes, when you would sit by his side he would wake up knowing who you are so vividly; sometimes his sweet memories would take over and he would just talk them through, not noticing you at all - like he was at Heaven's Gate chatting with old friends. As he got weaker his skin was so soft, he's face was so sweet, he's breath so shallow; like a newborn baby. Monday night, at the hospice, I walked to the snack machine for a little after dinner snack. On the ground I saw a fortune cookie fortune. I pick it up. It reads: you have so much to be thankful for. Next to it is a shiny copper penny, heads up. I believe if you pick it up and sing the "find a penny pick it up, all day you'll have good luck" out loud, you really will. So of course I pick these things up and say a little prayer. I prayed my Grandpa would be at peace, I prayed that he would be happy and healthy, I prayed that my Grandma would be okay, I prayed that God would take good care of this very special man. And he did. I do have so much to be thankful for. My Grandpa waited until my Grandma came in Tuesday morning and took his sweet hand in her soft grip, and then he left this world - in peace, with everyone he loves around him. My sister called me from Grandpa's room. I was driving Will to school. It was exactly 9:00. Isn't that amazing. So if you don't mind, I'm sharing this with you...
This is my Grandpa's obiturary my Grandmother wrote for the newspaper. I just wish we could write a whole book for everyone to read. He was an awesome man; so patient with his girls and more like a father to his sons in law. He is in a better place, but it's hard not to be selfish and wish he could be here with us. His body was tired and he wanted to go home. So Grandpa if you get a little blog time, I hope to kiss your check one day, just not too soon. I like it here. I'll pray to you everyday. I hope in Heaven the waves aren't too choppy and save some of the fish for me.
HF, our dear husband and father has gone on to another world, where he, with clear eyes can see the fish jumping and hear with good ears the birds singing. He was born November 14, 1919, near Waelder, Texas, where he attended school and spent his boyhood years. After graduating from school, he came to San Antonio. He worked at the Fort Sam Houston PX until being drafted for World War II. When the war ended he returned to San Antonio, worked briefly in the hardware business, and then opened his cabinet shop on Basse Road where for 40-plus years he with his friend Bob, made many beautiful objects with wood. He is survived by his wife Betty with minus 21 days being 60 years; his five daughters, Judy, Beth, Mary, Melissa, and Jennifer; five grandsons; six granddaughters; and two great-grandchildren. He was a good man who loved his family, his home and his God.
This is my Grandpa's obiturary my Grandmother wrote for the newspaper. I just wish we could write a whole book for everyone to read. He was an awesome man; so patient with his girls and more like a father to his sons in law. He is in a better place, but it's hard not to be selfish and wish he could be here with us. His body was tired and he wanted to go home. So Grandpa if you get a little blog time, I hope to kiss your check one day, just not too soon. I like it here. I'll pray to you everyday. I hope in Heaven the waves aren't too choppy and save some of the fish for me.
HF, our dear husband and father has gone on to another world, where he, with clear eyes can see the fish jumping and hear with good ears the birds singing. He was born November 14, 1919, near Waelder, Texas, where he attended school and spent his boyhood years. After graduating from school, he came to San Antonio. He worked at the Fort Sam Houston PX until being drafted for World War II. When the war ended he returned to San Antonio, worked briefly in the hardware business, and then opened his cabinet shop on Basse Road where for 40-plus years he with his friend Bob, made many beautiful objects with wood. He is survived by his wife Betty with minus 21 days being 60 years; his five daughters, Judy, Beth, Mary, Melissa, and Jennifer; five grandsons; six granddaughters; and two great-grandchildren. He was a good man who loved his family, his home and his God.
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