Wedding Eve Innocence

Today is my 16th wedding anniversary . . .

My, how times change us.

I still blush with embarrassment when I think of the way I was the night before my wedding day, all those years ago.

So young . . .

So innocent . . .

So uninformed.

I am astounded at how I could have been so naive' back then.

How could I not have known . . .

Not to go to an Italian restaurant for our rehearsal dinner???

To think I knew nothing of water retention back then . . . blows my mind.

How young and innocent and not-bloated I was all those years ago.

Oh, how cruel a teacher time can be . . .

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Yep, they are in school today . . . BOTH of them . . . at the same time!

Now, nobody talk to me . . . Nobody ask me anything, rhetorical or otherwise . . . Don't ask me for anything to eat . . . or to drink . . . Don't ask me where we're going today . . . Don't tell me what your brother did . . . or what face your sister made at you . . . I don't even want to hear what the meannest classmate of yours probably didn't get for Christmas . . .

Here that?

Me, neither.

Ahhhhhhh . . .

And The Breaks Just Keep On Coming

So the saga continues.  You remember . . . the Christmas break that may never end.

My daughter went to back school today.  A good thing, I guess.  Except I think all her pouting last night burned any illness left right out of her.  You see, because the last two days before Christmas break were snow days ~ remember?! ~ my daughter's first grade class missed their class Christmas party.  Turns out, they had it yesterday.  (Why not?  Not like they have anything important to do . . . like teaching them to read, write, add . . .)  I expected acid rain to fall inside our own van yesterday afternoon when she saw most of her classmates all lined up holding their freshly frosted, heavily candied gingerbread houses at carpool.  I could feel my daughter -- all of 6 years old -- seething all the way in the back seat.

So guess who's home today?  Yep, the pale-yet-flush-faced 9 year old.  (Is that snickering I hear?  I don't find this funny!  Okay, maybe a little . . .)  My poor little guy had a headache to beat the band last night -- always a sure sign of impending doom and illness for him.  He managed to sleep most the night . . . that's better than I can say for myself.  I couldn't stop myself from checking on him several times after finding him basically sleeping on his head at 1am.  (No, really.  Can anyone other than those 9 and younger sleep on their stomachs with their knees pulled up under their chests?  With his arms at his sides, somehow, his whole body was pitched toward the top of his head!  Talk about a headache!) 

He's feeling better this morning, all sacked out on the couch watching Ripley's Believe It Or Not.  (I gave up after the guy with 600 rings pierced through his face and the other guy with the 25 lb. foot.)  Amazingly, my son keeps asking for more and more to eat and drink -- despite his chosen television program.  A good sign.

Perhaps, maybe, just maybe, possibly . . . everyone will be where they belong tomorrow. 

From the "Whoops" File of Parenting

Ever get the feeling you can't do anything right on a given day? 

So I went in to wake my daughter this morning and found her hot-faced, extremely drowsy, and complaining of various aches and pains.  Suspecting the annual holiday ailment had come after all, if a bit late, I kept her home.  I felt so ahead of the game . . . avoiding the dreaded call from the school nurse, noting that I'd rolled the dice and lost. 

I oh-so efficiently tucked her back into bed and encouraged her to rest.  After about an hour more rest, she was right as rain.  So right, in fact, she was wrong.  A lot.  Today.  We won't get into all of her misdeeds today; though I can be spotted lamenting some of it over at Anna's blog (Chickens in the Basement) earlier this morning.  Suffice it to say, it bespoke of a child who was bored and should have been in school today.  Ooops.

Well, you may ask, what's so bad about that?  Better safe than sorry.  No harm done. 

But you would only know half the story.

The other half entails picking up my son from school.  I picked up a pleasant, happy little boy whose day was reportedly "pretty good."  We talked all the way home about the new pens his teacher had passed out to the class today -- the first time using pens in school . . . a leap from nine right over to at least fifteen years old by his measure!  By the time we got home and he got his jacket off, he was pale . . . prompting me to ask, "What's the matter?"  He admitted having had a bit of a headache all day.  (uh-oh)  And by the time he'd put his lunchbox away and washed his hands, his paleness had turned red-faced and weepy, reporting a "big headache now." 

So now the one who was home "sick" from school is disappointed that the one who did go to school today is too sick to play. 

Whoops. 

Happy Birthday To Me

Well, that's it.  I'm 40.

It all happened yesterday.

Do I look any different?

I can't say I feel any different.

Not that I'm complaining about my age.  I made an agreement with myself years ago that I would never resent the age I was.  When I was 28 years old, I lost a friend to a motorcycle accident; we were both only a month out of law school.  That put things in a perspective that I have never forgotten.

No, I'm not complaining . . . just a bit shocked, that's all.  Some numbers get your attention more than others.

Okay, that said, onward ho!

It's taken a lot of years to get this young . . . and I'm not going to miss a minute of it. 

Happy New Year

I love new beginnings.  I seem to need a lot of them.

I don't particularly like New Year's Eve . . . such conspicuous counting off of fleeting moments.  I always feel a bit frenzied, panicked, reluctant, unprepared, and regretful.

But I love New Year's Day.  A new beginning.  Opportunities to begin again.  To improve.  To enjoy.  I am always covered in new leaves begging to be turned over.

2009 was not such a good year for me or my family, but it did prove a good seed-bed for new blossoms and flourishes for the new year.

I look forward to a beautiful year and wish one for you as well.

Happy New Year!