October 2009 Archives


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October 28, 2000

... years ago today I walked down the aisle on the arm of my stepfather and prayed that I wouldn't trip on my train. He gripped my arm because he's terrified of being the center of attention anywhere, especially family. 

I didn't look at the faces of all our family and friends, 200 of them, who came to witness the marriage of a young man whom they thought would never marry and a fresh-from-teenhood girl whom they also thought would never marry. 

No one is good enough, the girl and boy had thought. Until they met each other. 

I didn't look at my grandmother who sat in stony silence after my mother sternly told her to behave herself, meaning no faux-fainting spells, wailing, sobbing, and other drama indigenous to my family, drama which manifests at such functions, usually to my amusement. 

I didn't look at my bridesmaids. Or my mother. 

It's funny how we spent so much time picking out flowers and decorations and the like because I didn't even see them while walking down the aisle. I'd forgotten about the colors we so carefully chose for the day, my dress, the food. I'd forgotten about the photographer waiting at the end of the aisle; the sound her shutter made was the only indication I had that time was actually passing. 

It was all so surreal. A flashback to when I was a little girl and thought about what my wedding day would be like; a hazy memory of first crushes, whoosh to when Chris and I first noticed each other from across the room through a sea of people, and finally God brought me to this moment. 

I can't tell you anything about my wedding. Were it not for the video and the guestbook, I wouldn't know who was there. All I saw at that moment was the young man waiting for me at the end of the aisle. And he was crying tears of happiness. 

Everyone has a pro and cons list they keep about themselves, locked away in a corner of their mind. He knows my cons (and I his) and loves me  - oddly, I think he loves me more because of them. 

The other day we argued over something which I'll forget about in a few weeks. We laid in bed, covered in darkness. He took a breath and said: "You know what I love most about you?"

I immediately thought of something physical. 

"You're stubbornness," he answered. "I love how fiercely you stand by things."

And then he kissed my forehead and went to sleep. 

I tried to think what I loved most about him. I went to sleep trying to narrow the list down, such was the length. 

Love. (I'm wearing a wig for Mardi Gras.)

My drunk hobo costume nonwithstanding

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The latest for Momversation at the bottom; it's all about slutty and gory kids' costumes. I wrote about this last year and still proclaim that the teen wolf costume is the best. It's taken a year, but Ewan is finally over his Grim Reaper phase. I am finally over my drunk clown hobo mail worker phase.

I blamed my parents. All their idea. 

My mother did it

I am wearing a Schlitz beer t-shirt, yes. Here's another shot. Parties offended: six - actual hobos, Schlitz employees, AB employees (did I mention that I dragged around a string of empty Budweiser cans?), clowns, postal workers, and the homeless. 

OH, and then there was THIS GEM:

Zombie in fashionable 80s tunic-dress

I'm not crafty like Giyen is; I could knit a costume I suppose but it would take several years and the finished product would look like a giant body sock with the arms all out of sorts, I'm positive. as you can see from the photo above, I always made my own costumes, which I still think is cool to do, it's just a bit easier when your kids are older, perhaps. My mother likes to get the kids their costumes and I'm sure would never dream of dressing them us as drunk hobos. 

The boys are going as Jango and Boba Fett, though Liam is careful to make the distinction: "He's my clone son, but only when the costumes are on."

This installment of Momversation is all about how the majority of Halloween costumes - kids' costumes - have lost all imagination. Seriously, put "dead" or "slutty" in front of something and voila! COSTUME. 



and other places doing what some would say "rabble-rousing"

but what I call "maintenance."

My boys have been soaking up learning about the Constitution.

Liam knows the number of amendments in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. He's so much smarter than I was at his age. 

Chris's high school reunion is coming up. He told me to pick out something that a "trophy wife would wear." Then we laughed and I ran my fingers through a gray patch on his head and he yanked on one of my fuzzy pigtail buns because when it rains it's all I can do with my hair. 

I needed to feel like I had command here again. I know that doesn't make sense but in my head it does. This is where I escape from it all. 

I have a lot to share. Some sad family news (we're all OK), some sad mama news (Liam now refuses to hold my hand in public because "My friends are watching! GEEZ MAMA." Heart + break), and how I've had to reschedule our entire lives to accommodate a different workload. 

More tomorrow. 

Why even Dracula will be there

It's not Halloween until we hear this song. The Shaggs "It's Halloween":

I put decorations up early.


Dried flowers from my cutting garden


I haven't broken out the fog machine, or the spiderwebs, yet. Those are Chris and Liam's departments, respectively. 

Homework shomework

My latest for Momversation wherein we discuss homework and how it's loaded onto kids these days. As I said in the video, it's actually an issue which pushed us to home-educate: I think that each child has a distinct way of learning and the way in which our educational system is structured doesn't accommodate this, thus, some students suffer. Learning should be fun, NOT a chore and I don't ever want my kids curiosity to end with the bell. 

Liam has homework, but as he suffers with repetition on things which he's mastered, his "homework" is more independent study and projects which require him to apply and showcase his skills. For instance: when we go to the store, his job is to find every product on my list and determine the product with the lowest price per ounce. When that is identified, if it's a food product, we study the ingredients and figure out which is the healthiest as the cheapest isn't always the best bet and neither is the most expensive. It forces him to apply a number of skills: math, reading, and science because he has to remember how things such as sugar and starch affect the body and to what food group they belong. Watching the grocery list and the budget is something that has helped his math skills more than any worksheet ever has. I wish schools could do more of this, daily. 

Liam is sitting in the chair reading "Love You Forever" to Ewan. The only reason he grabbed this book is because there was a picture of a toilet on it.

Ewan thinks that anything with a toilet on it is hysteeeeerical. Liam is happy to oblige.

He rushes through the "I love you forever" parts because "I'm just not reading that," he says. They get to the part that has always creeped me out: the little old lady mama shimmies up the side of the house, climbs in through the window, and rocks her full-grown adult man son. I always thought that I would somehow empathize with this woman; yes, my boys will always be my babies but if I'm shimmying up the sides of their houses at night to rock them to sleep, that's like, some Hitchcock business. 

Anyway, Liam gets to that part and he pauses. There isn't any laughter like there was in the previous pages. 

"Isn't that sweet?" I tease.

"No, it's weird," Liam replies, rolling his eyes with a generous helping of attitude. "I love you mama, but if you climbed up the wall of my house I'd have to shake the broom at you like we do the squirrels."

From our weekend

I want these rose bushes

country road



Picking pears off Great Gran's tree
Picking pears off Great-Gran's tree

bye sun




Boba and Jango Fett

The full step-by-step regimen I undertake to fix my naturally curly hair is below. When I was younger I would blow-dry my hair every morning and try to straighten it with a big, round brush. The effect was not unlike having my own, organic Darth Vader helmet attached to my head. Kids made fun of me and my hair was totally immobile. The upside was during the mid 90s when I was in junior high, the sunset of the Big Hair era? My bangs were the BIGGEST, LOUDEST bangs ever beheld. They were so big that the school photographer had to actually crop them out of the frame in my pictures. I may not have had any boobs or a figure whatsoever when I was in junior high but I made up for it with huge hair. 

That's why we're announcing the Momversation Style Me Makeover. Just tell us below why you deserve a makeover and attach a "before" picture of yourself. The ladies of Momversation will review all the entries and pick the best one. The winner will receive a $1500 Target Gift Card to buy fall fashions and make-up. Enter by October 16.

The winner will be announced on October 28th, which also happens to be my 9th wedding anniversary. FTW!


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Dana asks: "Thanksgiving Traditions: Yours or Your Mother's?"