thanksgiving eve

I should be finishing preparing the stuffing, but I have an innate need to procrastinate. It was the most perfect 70-degree weather today. Just in time for me to give thanks for living in Houston in November and not the Netherlands.

We headed to the zoo on a whim. Might as well make good use of the membership we bought way back in the dead heat of summer and didn't have any desire to be near a zoo. Or the light of day for that matter.

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life.  It turns what we have into enough, and more.  It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity.  It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.  Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow."

~Melody Beattie~

greatest accomplishment in life

Normally, when I interview at a gym, it's actually more of an audition. I plug in my ipod (or it used to be that I would throw in a CD), and I teach a few tracks, demonstrating my ability to connect with a room, role model perfect technique, and basically be a rock star... juuuust kidding. (No, but really. I am a group exercise snob. Everyone has their thing. This is mine.)

But when applying at a certain gym recently, they actually sat me down and (gasp!) interviewed me. They were asking me all those ridic theoretical/rhetorical questions that they probably downloaded off the Internet. If you were put in a situation where you were asked to do something you didn't agree with, how would you handle it? Can you give us an example of how you improved a situation that was causing discord among your co-workers? If you were a cereal, what would you be? What? I was weirded out. But I rolled with it, because I'm professional like that. But every once in a while, I would say, "So... want me to teach something now?" They never had me teach.

But they did ask me the most generic question of all, knowing I am a mother of four: "What would you consider to be the greatest accomplishment of your life so far?" What do you think I said? What else could I have possibly said? (For the record, I was being interviewed by a lesbian and an unmarried, childless gal. Super nice, but not your typical, family au courant audience.) The lesbian exclaimed, "I knew it! I knew you were gonna say that!" And I was thinking, If you knew I was going to say it, then why ask it? I love so much the inane, awkward things people say.

So yeah. I am a lot of things. But being a mother supersedes everything else a trillion times a billion. What can compare? Nothing. Nothing in the world.

for all intensive purposes

Note: These pics have nothing to do with the subject matter. They were taken by my lovely friend, Kathryn, during EZ's outing. EZ's looking homeless and emo and my headband is barely concealing my balding head due to hormone imbalances of the past childbearing decade of my life. Thanks for being friends with us, K. Really. Thanks.



Aud and I were talking the other day, and our conversation drifted over to the topic of misspeaks. Nothing makes Audrey crack up more. Nothing. Just throw a supposably into the conversation and she will die. English major humor. She even has a going list and sent it to me last night. A few of our favorites (misspeaks in red with the actual wording below... just in case... you know):

for all intensive purposes

for all intents and purposes

minus well

might as well

one nation, under God, invisible...
one nation, under God, indivisible...

worse comes to worse
when worse comes to worst 

butt naked
buck naked

once and a while
once in a while

resignate
resonate

curve your appetite
curb your appetite 

I could care less.
I couldn't care less.

pigment of my imagination
figment of my imagination

must of
must have

irregardless
regardless

doggy dog world
dog eat dog world



And my own personal favorite...

supposably
supposedly

 

How about a few misspellings, while we're at it?

right of passage

rite of passage

throws of passion

throes of passion

slight of hand

sleight of hand

illegedly

allegedly

Isn't this fun???

reap what you sew

reap what you sow

whole-hardily

wholeheartedly

wet your appetite

whet your appetite

closed-minded

close-minded

Paper View TV

pay-per-view TV

 

She also wrote a few of the ways Belén is always catching her on words/phrases we take for granted:




In the primary song I Hope They Call Me on A Mission, "grow a foot or two." 
B: What?? Hahaha grow a foot!!

B: why are you wearing your shirt like that?
Linda, sweater tied around her shoulders bc it was windy, says: so it doesn't fly away.
B, adamantly: shirts don't fly!!

Me: we'll take the ferry over to the island.
B: the FAIRY?? does it FLY??

Me: we'll stop and run in quickly.
B, grumpy and tired: NO!!! let's just WALK!!!

Me: please don't touch the mouse. {computer mouse}
B: the MOUSE??




Be careful what you say around Aud. Did this post resignate with you? Irregardless, if your ever around her, you're misspeaks our supposably being written and recorded. But society could care less about grammar, bc kids these days r just txtng now. So minus well not worry about it.

ez's outing

EZ and I went on an outing today that didn't involve the gym childwatch or the doctor's office or the grocery store or the kids' school or the inside of a Lululemon dressing room.

We went to the park! And rode a train! And had a picnic with all of his one-year-old friends! As the fourth baby, it's a general rule that he gets the shaft around here. We never do anything baby fun-centric. No swinging at the park. No playgroups. Not even story time at the library. It's so sad. He's the least vocal and retaliates the slowest, so... survival of the fittest, so to speak. And very rarely does he get to have an outing solely dedicated to him (outside of doctor visits). It was so nice. I need to do more of these redeem-myself-as-a-mother kinds of things.



My crumbly snickerdoodles that I brought to share but mainly consumed all by myself. Thanks a lot, guys.



Snuggling with EZ and my little buddy, Quinn. Quinn looks here like he is only appeasing my affection for him, but we snuggled this afternoon and kind of had a moment. It was special.



Are you getting sick of these instagrams? I kind of am, too, but it's just so much effort to lug my camera around. Maybe when EZ starts walking, I'll start bringing my camera around again. Which... I'm starting to include it seriously in my prayers.

But... I had a quiet epiphany on this little outing as we rode the train back to our cars. The other night, Bruce said to me, "What are we going to do when we don't have a baby in the house anymore?" He was already missing EZ's smallness and baby fat and feeling the finality of our very last little one's transition into toddlerdom. I said,"I don't know. Be free?" I wasn't in a sentimental mood at the time. But see that pic above? I was sniffing the boys' hair as we rode the train back to our cars today. Which makes me sound Creepy Guy sketch, but whatev. They still smelled like little babies after those few hours of outdoor play! And since I have two bigger boys, I know that the little baby smell turns quickly into gross, little boy smell very soon... too soon. So I inhaled deep. And enjoyed the journey.

fairy princesses know how to stop and smell the roses

This was my caption for this particular instagram photo of M.



I think it perfectly captures who she is. Zeroing in on a piece of beauty she's found while the rest of the world swirls around her in blurry, unfocused vision. She is astute and unconcerned, cognizant and careless, oblivious and sensitive. My paradoxical child.

At parent-teacher conferences last month, her teacher informed me she is "la mas popular nina en la clase" (the most popular girl in the class). Apparently it has caused some strife in the classroom, because the girls will fight over who gets to sit next to her at lunch, who gets to sit next to her during circle time, who gets to walk with her in the line, etc. And apparently when they fight, they are actually hitting each other and jumping over one another to be by M so that M ends up getting trampled. So now she always has to sit by Miss A at lunch, sit with Miss A during circle time, walk with Miss A in the line... you get the picture. What a troublemaker. But I am always wary of mass social validation. It makes my heart feel prickly and uncomfortable. Mostly because what society often validates are the physical, shallow and objectifying traits a person may possess. The first compliments most little girls hear are, "You look so pretty! You are so cute!" And no one eats this kind of praise up more than M. So I try to make my voice rise above the societal din with, "M, you are kind and beautiful and smart!"



But today when she got into the car, she was very sad and not her usual exuberant self. "How was your day, M?" I asked. And then, fighting back tears, she said, "Nobody liked my hair!" Oh no. My worst fears were being realized! She'd gone to get a haircut with Bruce yesterday, and she probably anticipated lots of compliments at school today. I have no idea what was said (or what was not said, because you never know with her... if you don't show the proper enthusiasm). In any case, she sobbed quietly in the backseat of my car all the way home and declared she is not going to school anymore. But I couldn't help thinking about how this was only the beginning of many more days years just like this... hurt feelings and wanting to feel validated and noticed according to society's standards. But instead of throwing my hands up in the air over what a brick-kicking rollercoaster ride this parenting business is, I scooped her up and held her. "I love you, M," I said. "I love you, too, Mommy. You are kind and beautiful and smart!" she exclaimed. I said, "So are you!" And she replied, "I know."


Post-edit: I've decided to add an additional tag line to my mantra. You are kind, beautiful, smart, and Heavenly Father loves you. Starts now.

anomalies

My friend Katy sent this to me today. It will be the most disturbing thing you see all week. I am sure of it. Unless you saw my pic of Creepy Guy on Facebook or via Instagram. Who, by the way, is absolutely creepy. But at least he's creepy in public. The actual scaries are the ones who are sick and creepy in private, you know what I mean? So a guy riding a pink bike in little girl clothes up and down the Houston bike path... harmless. As for this little number... not quite toe-tapping.

tomorrow is a new day

I get sad when I see his huge, perfect, unmarred forehead here. This iPhone photo was snapped during a break in our family photo sesh of last weekend. He has since acquired a giant, bruisy nugget on his forehead after a face plant into the floor from his high chair. I screamed, he cried and B censured me with looks of condemnation and mutterings of disapproval for hours. Mercy: we might need an FHE lesson. We also learned that his double ear infection of two months now still has not cleared up. He started his third round of antibiotics yesterday and, as a result, graced us this afternoon with the most massive blowout the world has ever known. Not just this past decade. Not just this century. THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN. I would have snapped a photo for visual evidence, but I was up to my ears in poo. We've had an intense week.

outtakes

I could use a really good chocolate milkshake right now. Thick and frothy with whip cream and a cherry on top. Hold it. Let me text Bruce while he's on his way home.

So anyway, picture taking was "fun." These were taken by my friend, Preetika. She was patient and long-suffering. I love that she captured EZ's contagious smile, L and M's love/hate relationship, the way Bruce and I get awkward when we look at each other, and my kids' ability to pose hard. I have long given up hope of ever having a "normal" family photo. But someday when I'm old (or probably tomorrow), I can look at these photos and reminisce about how I grew four out of the six humans pictured here.