Creepy Facial Hair and Where Does the Diet Begin

-- As most of you already know, Greg sports a nearly-constant goatee. I occassionally will make him shave it off for the sake of kissability. When it gets to a certain length, it's kind of like making out with a hairbrush with lips. I have difficulty in enjoying our, er, "us time" when it gets to this point. So I will beg and plead that he trim the cactus living on his face, and he is usually pretty sweet and compliant about it all. HOWEVER--Greg takes great joy in getting my goat (no pun intended) by shaving with *creativity*. Oh, I wish I had a picture. Greg will shave. But due to his love of performing, he will shave in STAGES. Each stage leads to less goatee and more creepiness. He loves to take on various personas depending on what his goatee looks like (farmer, horny pepe le pew-like man-person, Boris from Rocky and Bullwinkle, etc). It usually takes him about 45 minutes to get the job done because of this. And with every "stage" of shavedness, he will come out of the bathroom to show me the latest shape/accent combo. For some reason, I find his creepy facial hair super-disturbing and usually run away in terror. Of course, this leads to him chasing me around the house, using his accent, and it's all very married and wonderful and I love it even though I'm annoyed. Eventually he does shave it all, but not without some major nagging on my part. Do all men do this? Or is it just a Greg thing? Ren Faire is next week. We are taking my sister's family for the first time. I am very excited, but I have a feeling the latest goatee will be coming along with us, whether I like it or not.

--10-year-reunion is less than 5 months away and I have got to lose some of this baby weight, or I'm just going to feel self-conscious the whole time I'm there. One of my favorite movies ever is "Grosse Point Blank". In it, Joan Cusack's character talks about her 10-year reunion. She says, "Yes I did [go to my 10-year-reunion]. It was just as if everyone had swelled."

I DON'T WANT TO BE SWOLLEN!

Funny thing is, I never gave weight a thought then. I ate pretty much whatever I wanted and stayed as skinny as I wanted to be. This lasted through college. Darned metabolism. Seriously. It's like once you get married and have babies, your body says, "Okay, you've procreated. You can be fat now." The kiddos are worth it, but man! It is a lot of work getting rid of all this extra poundage. I am having serious issues getting started.

Anybody up for being a diet-fitness partner with me?

Hope

One of Emily Dickinson's best loved poems is called, "Hope"

The first couple of lines say, "Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches on the soul..."

When I envision that feathered thing, I have recently been picturing Big Bird. I used to picture a nightingale.

Greg and I have talked about this. We have decided there are two kinds of hope... there is a worldly hope, and then there is Eternal hope. Eternal hope is the only kind that ever feels real to me. My hope for eternity is full of joy and contentment and it feels *light* and good because I know my eternity is taken care of. Jesus is my hope for Eternity, and I know I get to be in Heaven with Him someday. This is good!

But worldly hope depends on circumstances, and whether God decides to give us a 'yes' or a 'no'. Unfortunately, I cannot say for sure where that will lead. So, we cannot really know what will happen. My hope in this life feels shakey and unstable.

"My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness
All other ground is sinking sand"

Since Greg got his layoff, I've been battling with worldly hope--the sinking sand kind. Hope feels heavy these days. I don't want to rely on hope alone because hope has nothing to do with outcome any more than worry or anger. I can feel hopeful, but that is not going to mean that the hope will lead to anything. Hope is a feeling--an emotion. You can want something to death and never actually get it.

But for some reason, I keep on hoping! Why do I need to hope? Why is there this intrinsic part of me that hopes beyond all hope that Greg will have his job next year and we will not be stuck moving back in with one of our parents' homes? Why do I hope that we will be able to stay in this house without having to take on menial jobs, go on welfare, and put our children in daycare?

And then that worldy hope is actually almost synonymous with worry. And we are outright commanded not to worry.

Maybe I'll call it hopry.

One of the hardest parts of being a Christian has been coming to the point in my life where you realize your life is not about you, but it's about God doing stuff through you. How I RESPOND when God dishes out Job- (the person Job in the Bible... not talking about occupation/careers, here) -like moments is the true mark of my character. And to me, it's just plain HARD to keep on trucking--to keep the faith--to continue living like a believer when the world feels so weighty. I need to be okay with whatever might come my way, because it's the only way I'll make it through, faith-in-tact. I'm trying, and I believe that God is working even when I can't feel it.

But even if Greg gets his job back, I'm sure I'll still find things to hopry about.

Favorites...

I don't have a favorite color. I don't have a favorite movie. I don't have a favorite song or play or brand of mayonnaise. Oh, well, maybe I do have a favorite brand of mayonnaise (Best Foods-- Nobody DOESN'T like Best Foods).

I hate being asked "What's your favorite..." because I usually like lots of things all at once. Does this make me indecisive?

I only have one favorite person; Gregory. But that's about as far as my favorites go, where people are concerned.

So here I am, thinking of writing about current likes and/or dislikes. I'm thinking I might update you on them every once-in-a-while.

For example, I currently am enjoying the music of Ingrid Michaelson. I discovered her on Grey's Anatomy. My husband hates her. But this makes me glad because he has introduced me to so many musicians and bands, it's kind of refreshing to like somebody all by myself.

I am also enjoying discovering blogs of people I don't know.

I am really figuring out that I have a distaste for online abbrevations. Well, wait. I can handle "btw" for some reason. But LOL makes me furious like Mr. Furious in Mystery Men. And don't even get me started on OMG or WTF.

I have a girl crush on the character of Liz Lemon on 30 Rock. We have 210 satellite channels, but I never watch tv. We just watch shows on instant viewing in netflix. LOVE the Instaview. But back to Liz. She's a dork and messy and real and weird and wonderful and I love her. I've never seen an SNL episode with Tina Fey in it, but I like 30 Rock. A lot.

I don't like any of the characters in Heroes. They are all just too pigeon-holed into these very specific roles, and the actors can't flex within those roles very well. I used to like Hiro, but he gets on my nerves now. But I still can't stop watching it, and get all joyful and call Greg whenever Netflix adds another episode to their instant viewing list.

I don't like the fact that I'm in the last part of my 20s. As I move along this little time-line of mine, things seem to be picking up momentum. I just can't believe Sam is already almost 4 and Aunica is turning one next weekend. Ay yi yi. (Is that how you spell Ay yi yi?)

Beautiful, Brave Little Man

This morning, Sam proved himself to be quite the awesome little helper.

In a previous note, I have mentioned what an ordeal it is for me to get the boy to school on time. This morning was no different. I got the kids dressed and ready to go. Sam ate his breakfast, we put on his shoes and went out to the car. I buckled Aunica in first.

IMPORTANT: I lifted Sam to get into his carseat while holding my keys. Unknowingly, I must have pressed the auto-lock button on my keychain.

As usual, I threw my keys into the driver's seat, then buckled Sam in, closed his door, and went to open mine. It was locked.

"That's odd," I thought, and so I tried again. Nope.

"Okay, that's weird," So I tried the other doors. Nope.

What I had done started to come into focus.

"Oh, CRAPPITY".

So, the dense person living in my head told me to try *all* the doors, just in case the ever-faithful auto-lock decided to be unfaithful today. None of them opened. Not even the trunk. Then the dense person told me to try them again. Nope. On the second time around, Sam grinned out his tinted back-seat window and yelled, "Hi, Mommy!"

I tried to not panic. "Think Crystal. THINK"Spare key! I ran into the house, hoping to find the single spare Ford key laying around somewhere. Yeah right. Even if the key were attached to something ginormous (snow globe, ruler, toilet seat, shrunken head) gas-station-bathroom-style, I still wouldn't have found it in this mess.

Two empty junk drawers later, I ran back out to the kids in the car. Who should I call? 911? AAA? The general police number in the front of the phone book? How long would they take?

Sam and Aunica sat there, snug in their seat-belts, patiently waiting for me to drive them off to preschoolville. Aunica's cold was causing snot to run down her face, but I could handle that.

What I couldn't handle was the thought of watching both of my children fry to death in our oven of an SUV on the first sunny day in two weeks.

"Help?"

Then it dawned on me. Sam! Sam is smart! Sam is capable! He's a BIG BOY now!

"Sam, sweetie?" I said lovingly through the window. "I have a big job for you to do. Can you help me?"

I don't know if it was the maniacal, crazed, desperate look I probably was exhibiting, or just the fact that Sam is such a great and helpful kid (probably both), but he smiled and nodded yes.

"Sam, mommy left her keys on the front seat, and locked the door, so I need you to get them for me, okay?" Another nod."Can you unbuckle your seatbelt?" He tried the orange button first.

Let me tell you about the orange button. The orange button is so stinkin' hard to push, I've broken nails trying to get my kid out (not that my nails don't usually break easily). It was made for kids to *not* be able to get out of, so obviously this was not going to be easy for my three-year-old son.

Sam tried his very best, though. He did a great job, used both hands and pressed so hard he was getting that whole tremble-with-exertion thing going. I told him to try the top button instead. The top button is a little easier. It's more like a plastic back-pack buckle and he's gotten that un-done before. He couldn't do it, though. So, finally, exasperated, I said, "Can you wiggle out of your seat, then?"

He tried, and it was starting to work. He got his shoulders out.

But then a woman strolled by on her morning walk. She looked concerned. "Hello!" I said cheerily, hoping she wasn't going to offer help or call CPS. What I really wanted to say was, "No, really. I *always* talk to my children through the car window in the morning. It's just one of those things we do." Thankfully she moved on.

Sam was doing great. He'd gotten both arms out and was halfway out of his seat. But he was stuck there. I was getting ready to go call the police when Sam had the brilliant idea of taking off his shoes. As soon as he did that, he was able to wiggle a little bit more. And then, he tried his top buckle again and it worked!

Huzzah! A few grunts later, he was free!

"Okay, Sam, I need you to get my keys. They're on the seat".

I was prepared to instruct Sam on not pressing the panic button on my keychain, and to press the button that had the unlocked lock picture instead of the locked lock picture.

Instead, Sam reached over and pressed the unlock button on the door of the car. Smart little cookie!

And I opened the door and HUGGED that boy like there was no tomorrow. Because, for a while there, it felt like there wouldn't be.

Oh, I love Sam so.

(PS. Aunica was fascinated by this whole experience, and never cried. I'm very thankful because that just might have sent me over the edge)

Okay.. it's been a while, I know

Mmmmm.. dinosaur! Tasty!

SOMEONE, QUICK! GIVE THIS BOY SOME MORE SUGAR!

Digging for gold

Practicing for Sillouette shots

Aunica's first swing experience

The next page

New Page

It has been a while since I got any new pages done with scrapbooking. Finally, I'm feeling a little more inspired. Here's the latest. It is of Aunica and her cousin Natalie.

Recent Photos

I have started a diet again. The exercise thing just isn't happening with the kiddos, so I am trying to stay as active as possible--WITH them. (It doesn't happen very much). But so far, I have lost 8 lbs in 1 1/2 weeks. Not too shabby, eh? Sticking to the lo-cal stuff, as I find it's easiest to keep track of what I am eating. Hope it works this time.
Will try to get some more recent pics up soon.

Recent Pics

Aunica crawling over her brother

Aunica's first ponytail

My two grubby, hard-working men

Addendum to the "Dyson Blog"

Oops.. just found out from my mom that Dad didn't actually plug the dyson into a 220 volt outlett. The vacuum did die, but it was something wrong with the electricity in the actual house--not my dad's mistake. Soooo, sorry Pops.

Will post some more recent pictures today! Honest!

The People's Court And Me

So, I have a confession to make:

I enjoy watching "The People's Court". It comes on at 1:00 p.m. every weekday. I don't watch it every day, but sometimes I'll be out and about, will realize it is 1:15, and be a little bit sad I missed it that day. Here's why I like it:

-Judge Marilyn Millian (Did I spell that right?). She is an amazing woman: confident, funny, not swayed by manipulation, inconsistent but doesn't give a darn, says what she means... I love her. I wish I were more like her.

-I love to hate Curt Chaplin. He's a jerk. He's one of those always-has-to-have-the-last-word kind of guys who you know is just as arrogant at home as he is in the hallway. I want to smack him every time he gives that smug little shrug.

-I feel like I'm learning about New York State law every time I watch the show. I wish it were based in California, though.

But today--oh today I saw the funniest thing EVER. Well, maybe not the funniest thing ever, but it was pretty darned tootin' funny. Here's the link. Go check it out and let me know your reaction:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-eF7APJlgo

First Reaction

Beer- Looks/Tastes like pee
McDonald's- Fries
Relationships- Fickle
Purple- Telletubbies
Power Ranger- Those actors must have been desperate
Cartoons- Wish they were like they were when I was little
Florida- Never been there
Reading- A most worthy use of time
Halloween- The smell of leaves and frost and feeling weird in a costume
Alice - 'In Wonderland'--a most fantastical story
Myspace- Kind of getting old--or is that me?
Feet- stinky and odd looking
Marriage- Comforting and uncomfortable at the same time
Paris- A beautiful but corrupt city full of pretention and snobbery.
Redheads- Are kind of unpredictable
Brunettes- Are wonderful
One night stands- Not worth the trouble
Donald Trump- hair--'nough said
Neverland- I didn't want to grow up, but am kind of enjoying being an adult.
Pixie- I wish I had wings
Vanilla ice cream- Bland
Hooters- Orange and Owls and supposedly really good hotwings
High school musical- I don't know much about it.
Pajamas- Snuggles!
Wet Socks- Dry eventually.

Today's Earthquake

Today there was an earthquake here in So-Cal. 5.4 magnitude (on a scale from 1-10, this one was about halfway to the worst you can get.. so it really wasn't that horrible).

Last time there was an earthquake, my mom was visiting for Sam's birth. I was 9 1/2 months pregnant and was due (overdue) at any moment. We were laying on the couch watching, "Prince of Egypt". It was at the part where Moses was telling Pharoh to "let his people go". Pharoh was laughing at Moses when the earthquake hit. Mom and I were frozen.. picture us with the deer in the headlights look. I wasn't sure where to go, or what to do. Finally, Greg, who had already gotten up and gone and stood under the doorway, yelled, "Are you coming???" Mom and I finally reacted and were able to unglue ourselves from the couch, and move to the doorway with Greg. The movie was still going in the background, and JUST as the earthquake subsided, this is no joke, Moses said to Pharoh, "Behold, the Power of God."

Today's earthquake was different from that one... I was absolutely frozen like last time--I couldn't figure out what to do. But this time there was guilt involved. I knew I should be doing SOMETHING, but what I should have been doing was beyond me. I got that frozen feeling and then I remembered Aunica in the living room. I ran and picked her up, but by the time I got there, the quake was practically over. Kristin was outside with Sam, so I figured he was okay. The first thing he said when I ran out to see how they were doing was "oh! Scary!" I felt like kind of a bad mom for not being able to act as much as react. But I suppose 10 seconds isn't a very long time to get to think... especially when the ground underneath your feet is shaking.

The morning had not been the greatest. We had had some more setbacks with our move out to Yucaipa and I was feeling frustrated. Sometimes I guess it takes an earthquake to make you realize what really matters in life. Because as I got Sam ready to go to Disneyland with Papa and as I held Aunica in my arms, the possibility of us not being in Yucaipa quite as soon as expected didn't seem so dreadful.

Greg's Blog About Sam and 'Dyson'

Sam is a wonder. Yes. My son. There is so much to him. He’s so much more than the baby I thought I was going to have. He’s … how can you think about what a blank slate will become?

So, today, he amazes me. We are planning to move into our old house (where he was brought “home” to from the hospital, all those three years ago), and he starts asking today, when I say “Let’s get your shoes on, okay?” he says (not asks), “We go to new house now, Daddy!” I explain that it was put off until next week, but we will be going there soon. Several times throughout the day, he asks or assumes we are going to our new house. It’s interesting, he must be very excited or nervous about it.

Well, after bleaching jeans together, (his first time, my first in ten years!), he wants to watch Iron Giant again (his favorite movie at the moment… I was bummed that he thought the “bad guy” was Hogarth’s dad, grrrr...) and I say, “Let’s wake up mommy and go to get our new vacuum.” He looks at me with this look like, “Uhhhhhhhhhh.” But gives no response.

Anyhow, at the store, he finds spare parts from the various vacuums on display at Best Buy, and wheels them around, calling them “Sweeper” (you know, from the movie Robots, and from the real life video tapes of street sweepers and other city heavy machinery). We finally get sent to a whole “Dyson” section, and find our old vacuum… beefed up since three years ago when we bought it. It’s still the purple one, called “The Animal” (since it specializes in getting animal hair out of carpet—our dog sheds all year—thus our previous purchase when we were rich). It’s spendy, but Dyson’s rock, and I LOVED our last one. (PS – We need a new one because my father in law discovered that Dyson didn’t expect someone to plug them into 220 electrical circuits—I can’t believe that Dyson didn’t think of that! They’re/He’s mostly so “outside the box” thinking.)

Well, Sam found the attachment that is smaller, and he swept/rolled/sweepered the entire area around the Dyson section with it… ten or twenty times, while Crystal and I were contemplating getting a replacement of exactly what we had before. We decided, “yes.”

When I got a cart and placed the new Dyson on it (big, black box, about six feet long) he got on top of it and laid down. At least he wasn’t running around the store.

Okay, okay, I have to say, the cart was because I slipped a disk last year, and I thought better of hefting it to the cashier.

Anyhow, Sam hugged the Dyson box to the car, then when we got home, he wanted nothing more than to open the box to play with his vacuum. “Mine” he said. Conversations about it being his persisted, even through opening and assembling, and when we tried it out, he still believed it was his. It was adopted by him as his new sibling (like Aunica, except more purple and robotic). Well, when we turned it off and decided not to vacuum the entire house, he got very sad. He was just sure we were taking Dyson from him. We tried to assure him that this was not the case, but eventually, the only thing that satisfied him was my suggestion of letting “Dyson” sleep in his room (since it was soon to be his bed-time). This made him happy.

He cleared out Dyson’s box (bed), and then we moved Dyson into his room. He chose a story to read to “him,” and we could hear him reading to him while we finishied fixing dinner.

After dinner, Sam got ready for bed. He explained the routine for bed to Dyson, and turned on the nightlight for “him” to not be scared. We discussed “stars” and “praying,” and Dyson participated in these bedtime rituals… including a kiss from Sam, Daddy, and Mommy, and Sam even told Dyson, “I love you,” to help “him” sleep, and finish the routine. It was sooooo amazingly cute and bizarre.

My son is amazing. And so …. I don’t even know what else he fits with, but something neat and weird. I love him sooo.

Thank you Crystal, for helping me make such an amazingly unique little boy! He’s awesome.

Finding Gladness

We are visiting my parents in Alturas, enjoying the beautiful summer weather, all the elm trees dipping, bowing, and making lovely wind-music, the smell of non-smogged-up air, hearing the laughter of our son and his cousin Hayden.

And then Sam gets sick, and we find out we have to leave two days early, and Aunica is particularly crabby, and I feel like I'm catching the cold too, and Greg is going to be starting work earlier than expected (this coming Monday) and I say to myself, "what a crazyfull world".

Isn't it weird how life is such a mix of emotions--moments all wrapped up in joyfullness and frustration?

I don't want to be a complete Pollyanna, because I think I find her a little obnoxious. But I don't want to be an Eeyore either. So, I find myself jumping schizophrenically back and forth between joy and discontent. I want to concentrate on the good things in life, but darn it... the good moments seem to always be tainted by tiny little disappointments. Some people might call me moody. I think I just feel things more than most.

Here is a picture of one of the best moments of the trip thus far. It was Sam's first fish ever. He was so proud of himself, and I'm pretty darned proud of him too.

Updates!

Finally, everyone, we are able to say what is going on!

Greg signed a contract to be employed with San Bernardino City Unified School District as a 5th grade teacher at Wilson Elementary School! Yay! We gave our renters notice, and they are supposed to be out by September 8th. Things are definitely looking up! Greg's first day of work is th 29th of July (teacher work days) and first day with students is August 4th. I am anticipating greater things for this year in that Greg will be starting with these kids right from the beginning--no coming in a month late. We are excited to have our house back and are looking forward to being 'on our own' again. It has been TWO YEARS! I can hardly believe it! Sam was still 1 when we movedi n with my parents, and he just celebrated his third birthday! It looks as though Aunica will have a little more stability in her life.

I got a new camera! I have been begging for one for a while now, and finally we decided it was time to invest in a spiffy Canon Rebel XSi! It's fantastic. Here's a couple of pictures from it!

hives

so, I contracted hives the other day from some medication I've been taking. Ugh! It has been a couple of the worst days since Greg had cancer. I've been walking around, stopping, and scratching like a dog with flees for over 48 hours now. Fortunately, sleep hasn't been that hard to accomplish. I am thankful that I have medicine that should be taking care of them in the next couple of days, and that I am not contagious (my kids/husband won't get them too). Please pray that they go away, and FAST!

Couple more pages...

Here are the newest additions to my scrapbooking: