Just a few quick pics of how our trick or treating adventures went.
Remember how I was worried that the Monkey wouldn't wear his pirate costume (the hat, the sword, eyepatch, etc)?
Uh...yeah. I guess I didn't need to be worried. This is what a few sips of MT Dew does to a kid. Thanks, Papa! : ) We had a great time, and Monkey ended up with quite a bit of loot. It was all a lot of fun.
Now, Monkey is all tuckered out, and fell asleep with his eyeliner scruffy beard still drawn on. ; )
Wellll, the friend emailed back. Upset. Of course. She cancelled her flight and hotel reservations. She made me feel guilty. She lectured a bit. But...well...I guess it was what had to be done. I feel bad for hurting her feelings; I actually do not feel bad for standing up for my viewpoint of things. I am a little proud of myself for not backing down. I wrote her back- and I don't think I even used the word sorry. More than twice. ; )
I guess we'll see. I may very well have ruined a friendship, and cut ties with someone who was near and dear to my heart for most of my life. But...I guess sometimes people change, ties break, and you just have to move on, rather than dwelling in the past when things seemed good still.
Well, I promised, didn't I? I told the Monkey we would return to the punkin patch and purchase one for our very own.
I did better than that...we got FIVE!!!
We immediately picked out three little ones (we've decided that one is for Monkey to keep, one is for me to take to work for a little seasonal cheer, and one is for my BFF, who we lovingly call "Aunt Kelly"), out of a giant pile- although the pile had dwindled quite a bit from a week ago. Next we found a little red wagon to put our punkin findings in, and Monkey helped push it around while I spotted the best big punkins. We found two.
We immediately brought them all home to carve, and I was detirmined to also save some of the seeds to roast them. I think they turned out kind of cute! The Monkey wasn't in a model mood, apparently, because he wouldn't let me get any good shots of him with the punkins. He also was REALLY upset when I put them outside and made him stay inside. I know, horrible mother!!
The roasted seeds turned out awesome as well. A little salty (me and my infamous over-seasoning strikes again), but quite tasty nonetheless. : ) We are now officially ready for Halloween!
Now if Monkey will just wear his pirate costume without any tantrums........stay tuned. ; )
Something has been eating at me since last night. It doesn't really sound like a long time, but I'm the kind of girl that let's things- all things- get to her. I over analyze, I over think, I worry, I fret. It's a wonder I'm not sporting a head of gray hair at my ripe ol' age of 25, honestly.
This past week I heard from an old friend. I say old because we've had...sort of a falling out. I don't really remember what happened exactly. I know that she didn't come to my wedding- that was in our hometown- because she was going to be out of town for a family camping trip. And then she didn't come have lunch the next day with me and a bunch of friends because she felt awkward. And we haven't seen each other since. I think I was finally the one that emailed her to find out how she was doing.
So then, this week, I find out that she wants to come visit me. In Florida. For a week. I have a lot of issues with this. For one, we really aren't as close as we once were. Aside from the whole wedding thing- that honestly doesn't bother me, sometimes things just happen and you know, I got married just fine without her- we just don't talk much. She's never travelled before- she's never flown before, she's never been out of Montana- and so I know I will be completely paranoid for her. And third, because of the very untravelled-ness, she won't be renting a car, which makes me the "dependable" source of transportation. The problem with THAT is, I won't be able to take any time off work while she's here, PLUS I will most likely be working two jobs at that point since I will soon be experiencing a new job venture at the beginning of the upcoming year. So two jobs, a two year old, and a husband that commutes a good hour for his job does not equal a lot of free time.
I'm not good at confrontation. I can't even honk at bad drivers most of the time. I say I'm sorry too much, I ask waiters if its okay if I order something, I used to ask my mother if I could go to the bathroom when I was little. It's really pitiful, and it's one of the qualities I dislike most about myself.
So, last night, in attempts to A) nip this whole trip thing in the bud while B) avoiding confrontation, I emailed my friend, and listed all the concerns I had about said trip. And then apologized by saying that if I was out of line, I was very sorry. And now I am sitting here, checking my email every ten minutes, agonizing that I've hurt her feelings and have effectively ruined our already failing friendship. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?????
I probably should have called her. I get that. But...while my friend is very funny, and at times very wonderful and nice, she's also...well, loud and stressful and overwhelming. So...I guess I took the easy road out. Or the seemingly easy road. Since no road is easy when you think about it constantly, even in your sleep. No road is easy when you recite what you will say in your email while in the shower. Yes, both of these really happened. Augh, the torture I put myself through.
So, what? Did I do the right thing? Am I a horrible friend? I keep going back and forth. My one ounce of backbone is saying "Get over it! She treated you like crap and didn't appreciate your friendship!" and then the rest of me is saying "How could you do this to someone you've known since the third grade? Is there no soul in there?" The devil-and-angel on the shoulder routine gets dizzying and annoying pretty quick.
Alright, so, as a girl from Montana, I haven't been to many concerts. I think my first concert ever was Kathy Mattea- uh, yeah. I of course enjoyed it, but...yeah. In fact, I think I can list all my concerts on one hand: Kathy, Joe Diffie, Dan Seals, Bare Naked Ladies, Flogging Molly, B.B. King (okay, that one was pretty freakin' awesome), and my brief viewing of Jimmy Buffett @ the Monday Night Miami game. Alright, I guess that's a few more than a handful. And while I get that some people haven't been that fortunate, it's still kind of pitiful.
This summer I was planning to remedy that a bit. A bunch of friends, my hubby, and I were going to go see AEROSMITH, baby, for my mother's visit here. Yeah...well, the night before our concert, we found out they had cancelled the remainder of their tour. Stupid Steven Tyler and his old man hip, or whatever it was. *sigh* So, no concert. Strike one.
Rumor was that Jimmy was supposed to have a concert here in O-town sometime in November, but before they even began to sell tickets, the date was cancelled. Strike two.
THEN, my BFF and I were planning to go to the Blue October concert next Friday at the House of Blues- and we found out Thursday that the lead singer is in the hospital due to a severe anxiety attack, and that his doctors have forced them to cancel the entire tour. Strike three and I am OUT.
So...we have decided that, for now, we are just not meant to see any concerts. I had a friend suggest that we get tickets for a Kanye West concert, since if we are to send anyone to the hospital...oh, that's horrible. Delicious, but horrible. ; )
I guess for now I will have to be content with mix CDs, and me be-bopping in my car. Which, believe, me....I do! : )
A little more Blue October, in honor of Justin, and in hopes that he gets better soon!!!
So I've been off my whole Friday Movie blog plan- not to mention Tuesday Tune day. But...I'm trying to get back on track! : )
This week I thought I'd devote to my all time favorite book. I've always been really good with all things English- writing, reading, essays, grammar (mostly), spelling (mostly), etc. But I have to confess, most of the books we were required to read in high school were a little snooze-worthy ( I am SO sorry, Mr. John Steinbeck). But, seriously, an entire book about an old guy on a boat, in the middle of the ocean who catches a giant fish? Um . . .
Needless to say, when our teacher passed out To Kill A Mockingbird in sophomore English, I had a moment of inward groaning. I didn't know anything about the book before opening to the first page- it was just one of those titles we all knew for whatever reason. I hadn't seen the movie either. I just assumed that it would be lame- it's a mistake a lot of high school aged kids make. Anything that was created before they were born was lame and old-school.
I would say by page three I was hooked to this book. I devoured it. Every day we would have to have a few more chapters read for class discussion- I finished the book in two days. I loved it. I don't even know why I loved it so much. I suppose because the writing is so clear, so simple and clean. The characters are so real- you could easily fit people from your own life as replacements. Then there's the great little message of humanity and decency.
In English class, we had the option to either borrow a used copy of the book or buy a new one for our own for $3. I bought mine- because I like to write in them sometimes, okay?- and I did keep it, and I read it over and over again. Now, I seemed to have misplaced my copy- but I hope to someday replace it with a new, possibly hard cover, copy. : )
Today, we took Monkey to a punkin patch, hosted by a local community church.
We got there pretty late in the day (well, 5, but I can't blame the nice church people for not wanting to be at the patch all day and night!), so we weren't able to buy one, but we had quite a nifty time exploring.
Monkey was amazed, he loved every single punkin there. He kept saying "ball" and pointing to them. He would try to move the big ones, and obviously couldn't, so he'd move a little one with a tough-guy heaving sound.
We've gotten a beautiful "cold front" here in Central Florida, so we only had mid 60s today, with sunshine and a cool breeze. In the shade, my ears even got a little cold. It was the perfect day for a punkin patch visit. Monkey didn't want to leave- in fact, he had a slight tantrum when I picked him up to go to the car. I can't blame him entirely- I wouldn't have minded hanging out at the punkin patch longer. But, it was dinner time, and the sun was setting quickly, so it was time to go. But I promised him we would go back and get him a punkin of his very own.
Friday morning, I had to take Monkey to daycare. Usually, the hubby does this, because its on his way to work, but since he had to be up before the crack of dawn for a golf tournament he was organizing, the task fell on me.
I don't love taking Monkey to daycare. Its about a 40 minute drive- one way- and it means that we have to leave the house really early if I want to make it to work on time. Did I mention that I'm not a morning person???
But, we got up early, and were on the road by 6 AM. I got the Monkey to daycare, and when I left him there he gave me a very enthusiastic "bye-bye!" complete with a big wave. Glad he doesn't have clingy issues with his mother.
While I was on the drive back towards work, the sun began to rise. On this day, we were expecting rain and cooler temperatures.
This was what I saw out the window on my left:
And this is what was on my right:
Isn't the sky amazing? I know its something so simple and maybe silly to be in wonder by, but its just so beautiful. I've noticed more and more here that the sky is like a giant canvas that God just constantly creates the most beautiful masterpieces on. Some days its clear and pure blue, sometimes the afternoon sky will get black with angry clouds, and some sunsets create the prettiest combination of sorbet colors, of fiery pinks and oranges. But always, always its beautiful. And on mornings that I am not ready to be awake, they help me remember that life is good.
When I was little, one of my favorite things to do was go through my baby book and read all the randomisms my mother had jotted down. I liked knowing what I was like as a baby. I liked hearing what we did for holidays, where we went, who we spent time with, what I liked and didn't like. I liked seeing my first scribbles with crayon, and how my doctor visits went. Isn't it funny how we are all taught to be humble and down to earth, but let's face it, one of the best things to do is read an entire book about you- written by the one person who basically thinks the world of you.
I knew if and when I had a baby it would be my own personal goal to write every moment of that kid's life down. It sounds exaggerated, doesn't it? But it's what I wanted. I wanted my baby to know how much we loved him, from moment one.
The first year of Monkey's life is pretty well recorded. I have every doctor visit and its outcome, I have a play by play of each month of his life, I've even used up every inch of the inside cover writing random stories of funny things he's done. I have pictures showing his changes month to month, and in the back there are two sealed envelopes- one from me and one from his daddy- that he can someday open and read and hopefully be reminded of how special he is to us.
Now, as we get closer to Monkey's second birthday, I realize that the baby book has been a bit neglected. In my slight defense, the book itself is set up for more detail for the first year of life, and then just a page each for every year after that (for birthdays). Still...I have been trying to keep writing little stories of him. I want him to know how amazing he is, even at such a young age. And how amazed by him I always will be.
Isn't it funny how pure love can be? My love for Monkey is just that. Other loves- boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, friends even- are always tainted with something. With kids, love is just love. It's as simple and as easy as that. There's nothing complicated about it. It really canopen your eyes. Soon, Monkey will be able to read and look at his baby book on his own (I'm still a bit protective of it- well, I worked hard on it!). And I hope he enjoys it. I hope he smiles at it and cherishes it and that it reminds him of where he came from- wherever he ends up going in this crazy thing called life.
Sometimes, when things just don't seem to go your way, do you ever feel like just hiding until the storm is over?
Yesterday, I went shopping. Well, I went to go help a friend shop, rather. She is going on a big fun trip to NYC, Philly, etc and needed some warmer clothes, so another friend and I went along to help. The Monkey tagged along as well.
I ended up feeling like the third wheel. Not really because of what my friends did, but because I was different. I had the kid; I had the cart. When it came time for our friend to try her clothes on, both of them took off to the dressing rooms, while I stood guard over the cart and purses. It was just a nasty flashback of second grade and me being the little chubby girl that got left out of things alot. And so, instead of just trying to get more involved in conversation, I left the moment they both returned from the dressing rooms. I retreated. I escaped. I went to my car and cried. It was completely irrational, and I'm not making anyone out to be the bad guy; I just felt sad and lonely.
Why is it that being the third wheel hurts so much? Why does being an odd number have to feel so awkward? The fact is that I don't have a plethora of friends, at least not here, makes it even worse. I feel like I don't really have anyone to talk to about this. And the ones I do have are single, or childless, or both. They aren't in the same place as me, so they don't really understand. They don't get that I might have to leave early because the Monkey is cranky and ready for his nap. They don't understand that I can't go down the shoe isle because Monkey will grab all of the shoes off the shelves (well...who can blame him? I wanted to, too...gosh there were these adorable purple ones that were just calling my name...). And they don't seem to understand that while I am in a different situation, I'm there because I want to be involved. I want to be included.
Its hard to have such a wonderful family, such a great kid, and then still wish for freedom. That's what makes me feel so guilty. I want it all. And then I think that if I did have it all, in some magical way, I still wouldn't be satisfied. Perhaps that's just the woman in me.
This morning, the Monkey was playing around and hid in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. He tucked himself in, and said "Bye bye!" as he shut the door. I couldn't help but wish I could fit into the cupboard and hide out, if only for a few moments. Sometimes you just don't want to deal. But...you have to. That's part of the beauty of being a grown up. Learning to face things that bother you, fighting your way to what you want, compromising in times that require a straight head.
I grew up around animals. No, not my siblings. There was always a pet in our house for as long as I can remember. Cat, dog, chickens, cows, pigs, a horse.....okay, those last few weren't actually IN our house. I remember I dated a guy who never had a pet ever growing up. Because of it, he didn't really like animals. And then I wonder why we never lasted.
Now, since we are renting a house still, we can't really have a dog or cat. Not that I really want one right now- the Monkey's still too young and we just don't have the time to properly care for a high maintenance pet. Enter.......the Tiki.
Tiki was my house warming present when we moved to our new townhouse over a year ago. A long time ago, when the BFF and I first lived down here on the Disney College Program, we saw a guy who sold turtles out of a van on the side of the road. Sounds sketchy, but this dude is awesome. He knows everything about turtles. And we vowed that someday we would buy turtles from him. So when we moved, the BFF bought Tiki for me. He's one of the best gifts I've ever gotten. I immediately named him Tiki- because its a great name for a turtle, no? Plus, he is so low maintenance. All I need to do is feed him and clean his tank occasionally. I'll even scrub his shell with a toothbrush so it doesn't get slimy. He likes to try and bite the toothbrush- he's pretty scrappy, for a little turtle.
Lately, his tank has been sitting in the kitchen window sill- he seems to like the natural sunshine a lot more than his light. Whenever I come into the kitchen he will swim to my side of the tank and look at me. He's probably hoping for more food, but I pretend its because he loves me.
We've all seen them. Those kids in a restaurant that just won't mind. They won't eat, they yell really loud, they throw food, they stand in the booth and stomp their feet, and reach over to the next table to bother others. And we've all been annoyed by parents who just can't seem to control their young.
I used to see these instances and I would silently vow to myself that my child would never act that way. My child would never misbehave. They would never act out in public, they would never cause a scene, and everyone would think they were perfect. Um. Yeah. Can we say....delusional?
Last night, the hubby and I picked the Monkey up from daycare, and then decided to go to dinner. Before the food even came, Monkey was pouting, throwing his crayons on the floor, and eventually began to wail with tears and everything. I took him outside for a few minutes to help him calm down, and when we returned, he refused to sit in his high chair, refused to eat, refused to do anything but sit next to me in the booth and put his crayons in and out of the little box they came in. Okay, so this sounds like its not really that big of deal, right? I know. I over-reacted. A lot. I got mad, I cussed, I stopped making pleasant conversation. It really bothered me that my child was that child. I was that horrible mother that everyone was judging. It did not feel good.
Once we got home, I realized some things. First off, Monkey is usually pretty good in public. He's been pretty much everywhere from the time he was born. But he had been in the car for a good 45 minutes, and then we expected him to sit quietly for another 30-45 minutes. That's an eternity for a 21 month old to sit. Second, no matter how good of a parent you are, your kid- especially when they are still pretty young and just don't understand how to behave in public yet- there are going to be times that just aren't that fun. Kids aren't perfect. Neither are parents.
I felt so guilty for being so upset. What did I care what the people at the restaurant thought about me, or my kid? I didn't know them. And, honestly, while he was being bratty for him, he wasn't the worst. Sometimes...it just happens.
Now, I just kind of laugh at that girl I used to be. That girl that was judgemental and thought she knew it all. When, really, she had no idea.
Is it me, or is Michael Buble not completely adorable?! Definitely the Harry Connick, Jr. of my time. I remember when I first became obsessed with his music- it was Valentine's Day, 2006. I just remember working at a credit union at that time, and a lady I worked with brought his CD in for romantic inspiration, or something. We listened to it all day, over and over. The guys in the office were sick of it by mid-day, and yet we continued jamming out to "Home". I've been a faithful fan of Michael's ever since.
His version of this song, "Me and Mrs. Jones", seriously gives me goosebumps. I think when I first bought this CD, I listened to this song on repeat for a straight month. I was obsessed. I still am. : )
Yesterday, I was driving and listening to his latest song, "I Just Haven't Met You Yet"...and, of course, I love it. I cannot wait for his new CD to come out (this Friday, folks). He's just so classy, and everytime I've seen him in an interview, he is absolutely hilarious. And he's cute. He's just the whole package.
Isn't it great how a certain genre of music can make you feel one way, while another does something totally opposite? That's why I don't quite understand why people only say they listen to one type. That's so boring, so vanilla. I'm constantly looking for new music to connect to, and I don't care what station plays it, I don't care who sings it. If I hear it and I somehow click with it, great. Most of my burned CDs are random mixes that will jump from Michael Buble to Dolly Parton to Bare Naked Ladies to Hinder to Jimmy Buffett to Garth Brooks to Shakira....you just can't limit yourself. There's no fun in that!
So I'm walking up the steps to our front door, coming home from work today, and I notice how cute the Monkey's new little art project is. And then the thought crosses my mind that, wow, I am just a great mom for coming up with these cute little ideas. And I'm horribly thrifty, because instead of buying decorations (are we sensing a deja vu' blog entry???), I have a good time making some with my little boy. Genius.
Well...okay, this is why its funny. Its construction paper that has been colored on by a 21 month old, that is then obscurely cut into pumpkin and leaf shapes and taped to the windows. Score! Its not fancy, its not cool, it kind of actually looks a little silly to everyone else- I'm guessing. They don't light up, they don't make spooky noises, they don't give out candy, they don't even last that long in the windows because the Florida sunlight fades them pretty quick. And yet, they are probably my favorite decorations ever. I think they are wonderful. And I will tuck them away for next year, and probably laugh about it then too. But so what? When I came home from work today, they made me smile.
Okay, so first off, I want to apologize for the kind of dark, not so great, picture. : )
Now, this was just too cute not to blog about. My little Monkey Man is, nine times out of ten, awesome at bedtime. He has his bottle, and then I literally just put him to bed, wide awake, and he'll chill out and go to sleep with in 10-15 minutes. And for the most part, he's been like that since he was about 4 months old. Did I mention I love my child?
So, this night, Monkey apparently didn't think he was ready for bed. He has a little toy that plays lullabies and then a light show of flowers, moons, stars, etc on the ceiling. Needless to say, he loves it. He usually lays down to watch it, but I guess this night he just needed a better view. So he piled all of his little pillows together up in the corner of his crib for the perfect viewing spot. When I came to check on him, this is how I found him.
Is he clever or what? He had fallen asleep and just looked like an angel (from a mother's perspective, of course!). But I was just so impressed with his good idea. And it cracked me up, so I had to take a picture.
Isn't it funny how kids can teach us things? Even if they aren't our own children, they stillseem to have some insight to pass on to us adults. Whether it be creating the perfect little chair in their bed, noticing something completely random that our older and "wiser" brains skip over, or simply stopping you for a hug out of the blue, they just seem to know so much more. I've always thought that rather than getting smarter with age, we actually dumb down quite a bit. Sure, I can use a fork and knife; but Monkey can laugh at anything, and is amazing by everything. What I wouldn't give to have that back. We lose it as we get older; we need the biggest and best. When you're a child, you can play with the box a brand new toy came in and be entertained for hours.
I really do think I've got Monkey to keep me young. Even though it doesn't feel like that everyday! : ) But he reminds me to stop and smell the roses- and to enjoy the show as it plays out. And for that, I will always be thankful.
