Friday, February 24, 2012

Suffering

The thing I heard most when I told people about Drue's ordeal at the park last weekend (for those who don't know, she was hit in the mouth with a thick plastic swing...by an 8-year-old who was throwing that swing...and lost, starting with the top right incisor and moving left, 5 teeth) is this:

Thank God it wasn't worse.

Or this:

Thank God it wasn't worse.

The thing is, of course thank God it wasn't worse, but what about what did happen? What about the fact that I stared into the face of my 2-year-old for 6 hours, and it was pouring blood? What about the fact that at night, after I put her to bed, for three nights straight I cried myself to fitful sleep because in the quiet, all I could think about was the moment the swing hit my sweet daughter's confused and terrified face, the things she screamed as I ran her up the hill a quarter mile to the hospital, the medics strapping her into the ambulance while she cried, the gauze that she held up to her mouth all by herself to catch the blood that was pouring out. I could obviously go on.

What happened was traumatic, and no, I didn't spend my nights thinking about what could have happened. Now, days later, almost a week later, I have thought: Wow. If I hadn't shouted at her to get out of the way, she might not have turned, and the swing might have sliced her head open. Thank God it wasn't worse, yes. Indeed. Of course.

But those first few days...

You know, people say that suffering will make you stronger or that there is a greater purpose for suffering (why do people say these things?), and though I do have faith that there is a greater purpose and that I have a less than eternal perspective on things most if not all of the time, I think...well, what am I trying to say? I'm thinking, first: of things people shouldn't say to immediately suffering people. And I'm also thinking about when people say, "Suffering drives you to the cross of Christ." OK, but what does that really look like?

Because this past week, I have NOT been fleeing to Jesus. I have not prayed more. I have been angry more. I have been sad more. I have tried my hardest to be more self-reliant. And this is what I've come to: Maybe what people mean when they say that suffering drives you to Jesus is that, in fact, it's Jesus who comes to YOU in your suffering. Because that is what I've experienced, and it is crazy.

I have fled Jesus these last days, and yet he has come, through messages from friends near and far, through offered meals (we took one family up on a meal Sunday night and didn't realize just how much we needed it; we tore through those cheeseburgers like we were starving, because we were, because we'd forgotten to eat), through SO many friends offering to help in any way they could, through one friend's getting out of bed and throwing on clothes to go with me to the grocery store because I didn't want to be alone, through a Bible study that I dragged myself to but hadn't done this week, and lunch offered to us after, and through wisdom from another friend that really had an impact and has stuck with me like glue...(side note alert)...

I called her on a bad day (a bad day for her, so really, we were both having a bad day). But two days had passed since the accident, and she said lovingly, "Meghan, hindsight is 20-20. I know that. But these things, they're a way that God allows us to see our children differently. To love them differently. To parent them differently."

How right she was. You might think I'm hokey, but I could feel in my gut that her wisdom was straight from God. It's rare that I FEEL God working - that I KNOW he is there and that he just DID something. Are the caps helping make my point? And that was one of those moments. We were seeing Drue differently (we'd seen her bleed like a murder victim; we'd seen her bravery, her amazing resilience, among other things). We were coming around her and loving her differently. This is hard to explain, but we were - and are. We obviously were parenting her differently, at least for a few days, because all we did was love on her and let her have and do anything she wanted, while poor Paigey waited in the wings. These things my friend said were true. It was what I needed to hear. It was a turning point. I think I slept better that night, though I definitely still cried my eyes out and probably called my mom, who probably said, and I love her so, "We just thank God it wasn't worse."

Oddly too, this week I've seen my husband step out of a really dark place. I've, well, I don't have time to sit and analyze all that's been going on in my heart, nor do I necessarily want to put it out here for anyone to see, but the point is: once again, it wasn't I who did; it was He.

Some thoughts that I've been having the last 24 hours: Thank God it wasn't worse. Haha. But also, what if her short amount of suffering, and ours, has allowed us to grow closer as a family and to love and disciple one another better? What if Drue's losing her 5 front teeth is an act of mercy that is teaching her - and me - that beauty is not what the world says it is?

Drue has learned the Westminster kids' catechism question: Why should you glorify God? And answer: Because he made me and takes care of me.

I know that I've been wrestling with this question and answer, and I have to think that on some 2-year-old level she is too. She has had to wrestle with feelings that she's not had to previously. She is learning to eat and talk differently. But she is smiling, and it is an even sweeter smile.

I don't know how parents who are dealing with their kids having cancer do it. How parents who have lost children do it. I don't know. I know that our suffering has been MINIMAL. But that doesn't mean it isn't suffering, or hard. And yet, even when we try to be alone, we're not. We can't be. We are rooted in something eternal, who cares for us more deeply than we know and who doesn't let us go. I think of Psalm 1:3, "He is like a tree planted by streams of water..."

So maybe if I have a friend who is suffering sometime in the future, I have learned this: I will let God do the work he is surely doing, and I will do my best just to listen.

P.S. If you told me, "Thank God it wasn't worse," I still love you very much. It seems like an obvious thing to say. I get it. This is not a rant about how much I can't believe you said that. At least it isn't supposed to be. And after all, I've been thinking that very thought now.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Our space

Last week I had two sick babies, and so I did a LOT of work on our house, thanks mostly to Keely and her new favorite book by Simple Mom. I raced through the book on my new Kindle (LOVE!) and was inspired. I'm still inspired and have plenty of work left to do, but it doesn't all have to be done now, does it? Here's what I have done:

1. Collin and I brainstormed a purpose statement for our family. I was certain he would make fun of me when I approached him with the idea, but he didn't. He responded quite well, and two days later, we had a purpose statement. Our conversation started something like, "Well, duh. Our purpose is to 'glorify God and enjoy him forever.'" But what does that look like for us, Team Barnes? We basically broke it down into four bullets, the first of which we figured out, though we kind of already knew, was that we want our home to be a place where others feel welcome (pretty much any time) and can rest. We have people in our home constantly, and so I started to thinking about how our living space can best provide a place of rest and welcome.

The first task was to open up the seating space - and add more seating. Before, we had a couch and two chairs; our TV sat on what could be considered an end table, and there were two TV wobbly trays between the two chairs. The chairs faced the couch, not the TV (likewise the couch faced the chairs, not the TV), so that is conducive to a place of conversation. We debated removing the TV entirely and decided it needed to stay (one reason is that our community group meets in our house every Tuesday and is currently watching a video series on The Reason for God). Anyway, I moved the coffee table that was sitting against a wall and put the TV on it (and was consequently able to hide all the wirey, technology-y stuff in it because it has two shelves). I put the "end table" between the two chairs. I opened up the space between the chairs and the couch in general so that it's much more open (probably half of our downstairs space). I added two dining room chairs against the wall that was previously home to a coffee table and put one TV tray between them. Oh, and I put a lovely lamp on the end table.

We keep one basket in the living room that any toys that make it downstairs (which is always a lot) can be thrown into at a moment's notice, and any of the girls' books can be stacked in the bottom shelf of the coffee table. Perfect. Room complete, open, warm...I love it. Now all I need to do is find the perfect piece of art, but that can wait. We currently have a few pictures hung on one wall, a quirky guitar-guy poster framed on another, and all of our CD covers in a collage on the wall behind the TV. These things help express our love our music, so they work for us, even though some people probably think, "I would NEVER do that." But isn't someone always going to think that anyway?

The room is basically blue and red and brown and gold, and I love it.



2. The next thing I did was tidy up our "dining space," which is the same room, other half. I centered the table and cleaned it off and found a bowl that I find beautiful to work as its centerpiece. I tidied the books that we keep stacked on our exposed-brick wall (next to the table). And I hung the mirror that had been sitting on the floor in our kitchen since we moved here in July.

There is also a ledge in this space that kind of works as my office. I couldn't find another place for it, so there goes our mail, though I try to keep it in control and it sits in a beautiful little mail holder thing that I acquired years ago. Next to that is a beautiful box that my friend Kirsten gave me on my 30th birthday (full of children's art supplies), and an aloe plant that likes the sun that streams through that window most of the day. It probably doesn't fit the "simple living" book ideal, but it works for us for now. Ultimately, I cleared a LOT of junk out of this space. The table never used to be empty of papers; the ledge was packed with all sorts of junk. You get the picture.

3. Next was the kitchen, and boy, did I go crazy. I got rid of so much stuff that I never thought I'd get rid of. A whole set of dishes. A number of pots and pans. I don't even know. The following Saturday morning I had a bunch of girls over to rummage through the stuff and take whatever they wanted. The next day I took the rest to church. Thankfully, our church is hosting a free "garage sale" in the spring, so I've been able to take boxes and bags and boxes and bags to church every week for a few weeks now. I think we're up to 10. It's so nice not to have to worry about trying to sell every little thing. I suppose it would be nice to make a little bit of money here and there, but it is also very freeing to just give things away, knowing that others might actually use them. At least I hope they will.

It's a good thing I made space, because we decided to put our NEW ELLIPTICAL(!) in the kitchen. So, this really may sound like it goes against the simple living bit, but fitness is one of our priorities, and we couldn't think of a better space. We had actually a perfect space for it in the kitchen that was being used by nothing (well, a random chair that we threw things on and a mirror that I hadn't hung). I still absolutely love my kitchen; I even love having the Elliptical in it. I only needed to move the hanging pots and pans into the cabinets so that we could fit the Elliptical there. And it fits, and I love, love, love it. I have gotten a workout in every day since we got it. I finally feel HUMAN again. Okay, enough about the Elliptical.

So the kitchen is functioning well; it is full of things I use; I cleaned out the catch-all drawer and the tray that sits atop our toaster oven. I cleaned off the top of the fridge, which was a junk bin. One thing I did not do was take any pictures off our fridge. I love those pictures; I love those people; and my fridge will forever house as many pictures and cards as I can magnet onto it.

That's all for now. Getting a little long winded. Suffice it to say, I cleaned out every room in the house. There's work to be done, but I am thankful for our space.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Hello.

I'm finishing up Stephen King's newest, and it's all I can do not to go back and edit my previous two horrendous posts. I'm embarrassed that those of you who read my blog and know that I'm an editor and sometimes writer...know that I'm an editor and sometimes writer and posted those blogs.

Oh well (I say, cringing). There just isn't time.

What there IS time for is rearranging my living room/dining room area, cleaning and playing with babies. One of them is tapping a small mirror on my knee while slobbering all over herself and saying, "a duh duh duh...aaaaaaaa....*spittle spittle gurgle*...yAAAAAAA....ah yuh yuh...guh guh," you get the picture.

It's Drue.

Just kidding. Drue is napping. My napping QUEEN! She reigns on her sleepy throne! I love her.

Paigey, on the other hand, does NOT like naps. Oh, no. She does nap. I would not let her not nap. But she fights it and will never sleep as long as Drue does. Luckily, she's also really pleasant and happy to play by herself for long stretches when she's awake.

We watched "The Bear Movie" the other night (aka "Over the Hedge"), so Drue's into that these days. I'm cutting down TV time though, so we watch it in spurts (and I always skip the scary chapters, especially with her having nightmares lately, which are getting better btw). We are down to 3 hours of TV a day. That might sound like a lot of TV to some, but it is NOT. It is difficult to watch only that much TV, and mostly because I'm so super selfish with my time. I really don't mind clunking them down in front of the tube. I can get my stuff done! But lately I've been feeling less OK about it, especially as Drue is getting older and I'm realizing that she just isn't good at PLAYING.

We're a couple of weeks in, and she's already playing better! Paige loves to play, so we're good there. We're listening to more music and doing more activities together. And it's HARD, but so good. So worth it. It's a discipline for all of us.

Other things are happening, but I don't have time to write about them in detail. Let's throw a list out there. A list of VERY important things, starting with:

I'm parting my hair in the middle now.
Nobody is commenting on ANYTHING I post on Facebook, and so I'm convinced EVERYBODY has blocked me.
Being married stuff.
I am picking up Little Caesar's Pizza tonight for community group and couldn't be more excited because Little Caesar's makes me think of home (i.e., Norman, OK).
I think about writing a book again almost daily, and never start.
We're getting an Elliptical machine any day now, and that's why I just rearranged our living space. Yes, we're putting it downstairs for everyone to see.

That is all.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Groceries and Griperies

Do you love grocery shopping? I have a love-hate relationship with it. I love it when I make it within budget, which lately is pretty much never, which is probably why I'm so frustrated and writing this post.

Making the grocery list is like putting a puzzle together. Part of me likes this, because it feels satisfying when I've made a good list. Part of me loves sitting down with my big recipe book and magazines that I haven't torn the recipes out of yet, and deciding. Most of me hates it.

Let's just gripe for a minute. At the moment (and that is very important here), I:

* am tired of thinking about how to feed four people lunches.
* am tired of stressing about the amount of produce I can buy without going over budget.
* have a (previously mentioned) huge book of recipes and still feel like I have nothing to cook.
* feel like I have no go-to recipes other than spaghetti and burritos.
* want more go-to recipes.

Okay, now let's be happy...

I am thankful I have three other mouths to feed; it's just hard sometimes, and that's probably normal.

Occasionally I get to go to the grocery store by myself or with just one baby, and even going with two can be really fun because I have two great girls.

We have a Trader Joe's reasonably nearby.

There is food in my house.

I have no right to gripe about anything, but man, let's just get it out there: yesterday was HARD. I have come down with the cold that the girls just finished having, and we had a "playdate" at 10:30, so I decided, because Monday is grocery and laundry and basically just clean all day day, that we'd go ahead and get our errands run before the playdate and just leave the groceries in the car while we were there (it was cold). Never, if you're me, plan to run three errands before a 10:30 playdate, especially on a cold and wet day when you're all in huge jackets and boots and etc.

Trader Joe's was fine.

Target (there are almost always a few things I can't find at TJ's, which is another issue) was not as fine. Starting to sweat; girls starting to get tired...

Bed, Bath and Beyond was a MISTAKE. Really sweating now, and the girl who's helping us find this alarm clock for Drue is taking FOREVER, and I can't put Paige down because what she wants isn't down (because I would have put her on any dirty floor at that point) but to EAT and NAP. This poor girl helping us; I was making it very clear that I'd appreciate it if she'd just STOP TALKING TO US AND LOOKING THIS UP ON YOUR COMPUTER. I'VE CHANGED MY MIND AND JUST WANT TO GO! My throat is also starting to hurt at this point, which is frustrating because that means I'm getting this stupid, snotty cold.

We get back into the car and buckled in (over the huge coats - that's a feat) and nobody is straight-up crying, but there is whining. "We're going to Miss Kate's house, guys. It's right around the corner. We'll eat some lunch. It'll all be good. Let's try not to whine."

I pull out my phone to text our friend and tell her we're coming. I have a text message waiting for me. "Did you get Kate's message? She can't have anyone over till 11:30. Rough night with Addy." (Addy is Kate's brand spanking new baby.)

Well, the selfish bastard in me was frustrated. My plans had been foiled. Kate...poor Kate...she was up all night with a new, screaming baby and dealing with that "all I can do is nurse and I feel like a cow" feeling, plus the zombie feeling, and I'm thinking about ME?!?! I'm such a good friend.

We drove the 15 minutes home, and it wasn't as bad as I'd made it out in my mind to probably be. Paige fell asleep. Drue became content (by the mercy of our Lord), and I prayed for Kate and repented about my ugliness. No, we wouldn't be coming back at 11:30, but that was probably best anyway, since I was coming down with a cold. We'll see Kate and her sweet, precious Addy another day. And not after running three errands.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Memorization

It finally struck me the other day while driving and singing a random song from the early '00s to which I knew ALL the lyrics...that if I have this huge compartment in my brain full of song lyrics (literally thousands of songs, I would think), then my children have the capacity to memorize SO much scripture. That I had that capacity as well, and maybe still do?, but that I probably ruined it by filling my brain with noise, etc. Granted, many of the lyrics in my head are hymns, so that is good; it's not calling to mind scripture, but it's close. All to say, when we talk about how people in biblical days were able to memorizes passages of scripture (BIG passages), it's not just something to laugh at and go, Yeah, right. Because I did that. I didn't REALLY believe it. But why? I believe it now. I wish I had had a classical education, or at the least an education that utilized more memorization, and specifically memorization of scripture. Why didn't I get this until just now? OK...gotta go play in a tent with a two-year-old (who, by the way, is having a terrible time with emotions lately; more on that later).

Wednesday, January 04, 2012

May I join you in the bathroom? Why, yes! Of course!

I once read that a mom who wants alone time should utilize the bathroom. In my experience, this does not work. And it's hilarious.

This morning...

I needed to wash my head, so while Collin was downstairs ironing his work clothes, both girls happily playing around his feet, I snuck upstairs to do so: alone.

NO more than 120 seconds later, upstairs comes Drue, her new, gigantic pencil in tow.

"Mommy? Mommy! What you doing?"

"Hey, baby. I'm--"

"You washing your hair?"

"Yep."

At this point I'm kind of laughing because I realize, again, that I will not be alone between the hours of 7 a.m. and 8 p.m. until I'm 40 years old - unless the girls go to school, but that's another conversation. It *feels* like I won't be alone until I'm 40; that's for sure.

"I splash it for you?"

"What?"

She makes a motion to splash the water with her hands, and I say no thank you. Then the singing begins.

"La la la...la da daaaaaah!" And chanting. "Mommy's elbow! Mommy's elbow!"

All the while she's either marching or "drawing" on my back with her gigantic pencil and then laughing. And all the while my eyes are burning because I've gotten next to no sleep, but I'm also thoroughly enjoying it because, well, who wouldn't?

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

Hungry

Instead of visiting Pinterest for the tenth time today, I figured it’s time to write about The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins, since I just finished it and since the movie trailer recently premiered online. Suzanne Collins remains a mystery to me. Her picture does not grace the covers of her books, and I’ve not looked it up online because, really, I’m afraid if I see her face I’ll like the books less. (This happened with the Twilight series.)

Collins’ post-apocalyptic America is fairly imaginative. Torn into districts of people who are basically slaves to the Capitol and whose children run the risk of being drawn into the Hunger Games each year, Panem is a place I don’t want to visit but am curious enough about. The first book in the series is compelling, setting up this world, this crazy idea that captures the reader’s interest right away because, let’s face it, we all like some gruesome (read: Stephen King’s Danse Macabre). So, we’re in. Collins knows the story-writing tricks, her obsession with food description is right in line with the culture’s foodie, gastro-pub obsession, our heroes have a fair amount of depth, her Capitol characters are a good amount of colorful. It’s a good read: for the most part.

The things that get me where it hurts are the love interest, which, now that I’m rethinking this, I might not even be able to criticize because, who is our target audience? Teens. And what do teens love? Love. But there’s that, and then there’s the heroine Katniss Everdeen’s cluelessness. I don’t know whether Collins assumes the reader will know what’s going to happen before Katniss does all the time, but we do. And that’s not good writing technique. If there is to be mystery, and there is because there is suspense, it must remain mystery. We must find out with the hero.

The second and third books start at a snail’s pace. The second because of a load of exposition that the reader could definitely do without. The third because we simply don’t care and we want to get to the action. But this happens in many a good book, so I’ll let that one slide as well. What I won’t forgive is the absolutely unnecessary epilogue. People have debated epilogues since the epilogue existed. I take comfort in knowing that I’m of the humble yet accurate opinion that epilogues are almost always the wrong choice.

So, go ahead and buy The Hunger Games on your Kindle, but don’t go out and buy the hardbacks. Expect some suspense coupled with some unfortunately obvious “twists,” a couple of characters you might like enough to follow through to the end, a love story that might remind you of your teen years, and a world that might soon be to come.

Saturday, December 03, 2011

Life in Delaware:

Looks like this...

I drag myself out of bed when Paige wakes up between 7 and 8. (She's still eating at 5 a.m., so that's fun.) Collin gets up early and takes care of Drue until I arise (sometimes because Drue has bursted into my room and shouted, "Mommy! Good morning, Mommy!" - I love those mornings the most). I enjoy making a French press of super black coffee and drinking the entire thing over the next two hours. The girls play or watch a video while I spend a few minutes on the computer, because DON'T JUDGE ME. Drue usually eats something else during this time, because Daddy doesn't quite know how to feed her yet. Just kidding. But she's always still hungry.

Next is get-dressed time. I often have trouble making it back up the stairs at this point. (Sometimes I think if I just went out for a jog after feeding Paige at 5 a.m. I wouldn't be so tired all the time, but I love bed.) We make it upstairs, and we get dressed (on the mornings that I actually do shower, that happens before Paige wakes up). Drue tells me she doesn't want to put on her pants, then that she doesn't want to put on her socks, but we do it anyway. She is starting to put her clothes on herself some too. Paige HATES getting dressed. Hates. It is pure, unadulterated torture. But if I didn't dress her she would be frozen, because our house temperature sits right around 67. Is that cold? That seems cold to me.

If it's Monday, we go to the grocery store and get back in time to watch most of Sesame Street. Drue eats lunch while she watches. I put groceries away and then feed Paige some sort of solid food then nurse her. All the while, I'm doing laundry, which I've been doing since I got up and brought myself to collect all the dirty clothes in the house. After SS we go upstairs and have play time, reading time, etc., and the girls go down for a nap around 1. Other not-Monday mornings include either a morning nap for Paige and Drue and I doing some kind of craft or playing or putting away the dishes. We go to a friend's house most Wednesdays for a play date type thing. We usually go the mall once a week, maybe twice if I'm dying to get out. On days that we're out, Paige snoozes in the car at some point or skips her morning nap. She's a pretty easy-going gal, except for the getting dressed.

During naptime I do any number of things, the majority of which involve me on the couch, on the computer - or reading a book or sleeping or all of the above. And if it's Monday, I probably spend at least half of naptime sweeping and mopping the downstairs and folding laundry. (The housework that takes place the other days of the week I usually do while the girls are awake, or I don't do it at all. Though I've found that I can get A LOT done in 15-minute chunks. Brilliant!)

After naptime, it depends on the weather, but I like to get Drue outside. Even if we've gone somewhere that morning, she needs OUTSIDE time. Walking to the park, around the block, to the store, even just playing on the porch for a little bit. She needs it, and so do I. It's getting cold though, so I'm afraid these times aren't going to last much longer.

I've been asking Drue to help me with dinner lately too, which is fun - and frustrating - but mostly fun. We eat early, pretty much right when Collin gets home at 5:30. Then it depends on the day again. We have a lot of people over to our house for dinner; we sometimes have "date night" after the girls go to bed, which means we make dinner together then; and Tuesdays we have community group at our neighbors' house. We sometimes take the girls to someone's house, but that involves lugging the pack-n-play, which is a hassle. We nearly never go out to dinner, so if we do that's always a really fun treat - that almost always ends in my thinking we've been robbed.

I kind of live for Saturdays and Sundays these days. And here we are on a Saturday, and I need to get off the computer and go do things with my family. More later.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Paige

Well, it's been too long since I've posted, but that's probably because I've been getting used to mothering two children under 2. Whoa. This is work. I knew it would be work, but I'm remembering now how difficult those first 8 weeks were with Drue. Thankfully, I don't think it's going to be a whole 8 weeks of "terrible" with Paige. Sunday is the 4-week mark, and I'm evening out emotionally, doing well physically and doing fairly well functionally. I have been getting at least a small nap every day, and I realized this morning in the shower that I've finally gotten used to much less sleep (if one ever gets used to that). We had a bad night last night (Paige has a cold), and I was standing there in the shower thinking, How am I doing this (i.e., standing)? But I am. Okay, I must be through the newness.

We're working into a schedule of sorts, and I feel like I can kind of read Paige. She wants to be held most of the time. She eats more often as the day progresses. She needs two big naps and is awake otherwise, which is weird because Drue took four naps a day. But then, I was much more scheduled with Drue. Anyway...we're doing this. I don't know how, and some days I might have to call my friends bawling (already done that many times), but we are doing this.

And here is my sweet Paigey Poozers.

FROM SCHEDULED TO DEMAND FEEDER

As I mentioned, I'm not doing a schedule per se with this baby. Why OH WHY did I not believe babies work into their own schedules? Oh wait, I did, but I thought (because of the baby book I chose to read) that that schedule would be horrible, and the child would rule my life rather than I hers, and it would be bad bad bad...etc., etc., the world ending. Yes, babies work into their own schedules, but those schedules are good. They are best for the baby AND Mom, can you believe it? The schedule we've naturally worked into does not rule my life. I am still the ruler here. But it WORKS BETTER THAN THE SCHEDULING I DID WITH DRUE EVER WORKED. And Paige is already sleeping (on good nights) more hours in a row than Drue ever did.

That last part could just be Paige, but still. I am now a demand-feeding, no strict scheduling mom, and I - and Paige - love it.

As for how Drue is doing? I will have to post on that at a later date. It's time for a few minutes of Internet surfing before babes wake up. (Yes, the "schedule" includes both girls sleeping at the SAME TIME in the afternoons. Woot!)

Monday, March 21, 2011

In Lieu of Thank You Notes, Blog

I really need to write those thank you notes. So I'll be quick.

A week from tonight I will not be sleeping because I will be too excited that in the morning, our second baby girl arrives. Unless she comes early, which I'm still all for.

Tonight the guy took Drue to a church plant meeting. I was going to go but for a few reasons decided I didn't want to, and wanted him to take her with him. One reason is a little embarrassing. My mother-in-law gave me money for a pedicure, which I got this morning. It was fabulous. I don't usually like pedicures, but at 39 weeks pregnant, they're fabulous. Well, little lady doing my toes up-sold me an eyebrow wax at which time she up-sold me a, dare I admit it, lip wax. I've NEVER waxed my lip, because I don't need to, because I'm not very hairy. When the lady said, "You get lip done?" I asked, "Is it really necessary?" And she nodded her head vigorously and said, "Yeeeeees." So, I got it done, and now I have lots of splotchy on my face. Therefore, no meeting.

I also wanted Collin to take Drue because I was getting so frustrated with her; I just wanted to be alone for a while. Is that terrible? Collin was later than usual getting home tonight, and I think I've figured out that she doesn't like that. I think she knows when he's going to be home, and she really looks forward to it, because come five o'clock she starts getting really grumpy. And then when Daddy comes home it's like this night and day improvement. She is so happy the rest of the evening until bed. Is that too cute? I think it's too cute. But I wasn't dealing well with the grumpy bear. So she is with Daddy, and I am glad. They are a pair.

I really must get cracking on these thank yous. I have so many to write. I can't believe how many folks have bestowed such kindnesses on us this second time around. We've needed it and appreciate it. One week to go!

Sunday, March 06, 2011

Thoughts

I can't believe how small babies are at the one-year mark. I thought Drue was so big then. I was wrong. She is so big now. And of course, a few months from now I'll think she was so small at 21 months. She has hit a little growth spurt, though. I looked at a picture taken mid-February in which she was so very chubbalicious, and now she is suddenly looking so thin.

Since I don't have the energy to think of a topic on which to post, I will simply write what is going on in our lives in list form.

1. The nursery is gutted and ready for another life to (eventually: she'll sleep in our room for a while) inhabit it. It looks so cute!

2. I hope the baby comes early. I want to experience at least a little bit of labor and not just go in for my "baby appointment" March 29. I realized this tonight at dinner with friends. I kind of blurted out that I "loved labor," and Collin looked at me like I was crazy. But I did, in a difficult way to explain, love it, and I want to go into labor early so that I can experience at least a little bit of it again (and not have chosen my daughter's birthday...so weird). Actually, I'm realizing that I want to go into labor early because ultimately I want to be able to labor naturally again and not have a c-section at all. :(

3. The in-laws visited this weekend and helped out a lot around the house. We will see my parents this weekend. It is strange to think that this is our last round of visits without another child in the mix.

4. I am constantly back and forth with how I feel about the birth of our Paige Dallas. Most of this has to do with my concern for our Drue Alison, and how she will handle it. (That and my fear of lack of sleep and how I handle that.) I know that it will be good for Drue, good in general, great!, but part of me wants her to the be the center of the universe a little longer. And of course, by "the center of the universe" I do not mean "the center of the universe," for Christ is life, yes? But you know what I mean.

5. I am getting to know my across-the-street neighbors a little better, which I am thankful for. I would like to become friends with the youngest of the bunch, Stacy, who has a five-month-old baby girl, Rachel, and to invite her to do something sometime, but I don't know how yet. I imagine an outlet will come. For now we just talk when we pass outside, which is often. And Drue looooooves going to see baby Rachel, so that's fun.

6. Collin and work stuff. Hmm... Maybe I'll post about this later. Let me just say now that being on the job market for three years is difficult. I do not love academia; at least not today.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Living Room Camp Outs and Bras

The guy and I have been camping out in the living room every night for the past few weeks. It all started when the heater stopped working efficiently, and our room was too cold to set foot into. Now everything is back to normal and we're still out here. C on the floor and me on the couch. Previously, C had been on the floor in our room, next to the bed. I had the entire bed to myself, but still I wasn't sleeping well. I sleep much better on the couch. I'm not sure why. I also find myself waking up on my back a lot and being comfortable there. At 33 weeks pregnant, isn't that strange? Not good?

This evening I talked to a friend who recently had a baby, and I was reminded that in six weeks we are going to have a newborn on our hands again. I don't know if we're ready. Right now all we can think about is where is Collin going to get a job? Are we moving? What will Drue say next? Do next? Poor Paige...we just haven't thought about you very much.

Before D was born, I wrote in a journal to her often. I've never been a great journaler, so it wasn't daily, but at least I was doing something. I need to start doing that for Paige. I need to start doing something, like rereading a book about how to, for lack of much better words, deal with a newborn. I've already taken care of one, and not even that long ago, and I feel clueless. I think I think we'll just find out what P is like and how she is different or similar from Drue and go from there. We didn't have a necessarily set plan with Drue, and we'll have even less of one with Paige. All I know is I want to nurse her more and stress about her schedule less. Which reminds me, I need to go get a GOOD nursing bra. Any suggestions?

OK, and since I've included the word bra in the title, I must share a funny Drue story about bras, mine specifically. Sometime while Collin was gone on interview I had slept in the living room, and instead of changing into some semblance of pajamas in my room before heading to bed in the living room, I just popped off the bra and slept on the couch in whatever I was wearing that day. The bra stayed in the living room with me, and the next morning, before I had picked everything up, Drue found the bra, picked it up and exclaimed, "Ooooh, woooow! Wassaaaaat?!" Hilarious.

Sunday, February 06, 2011

Gunky Birthdays

My second daughter will be born Tuesday March 29. Incredible. Our guy wanted to know why I liked the 29th over the 28th (we were given both options; I'm having a c-section). "Because I like the number better," I said. Is that so weird? Now both of our girls have entirely odd-numbered birthdays.

It would have been cool if we could have done 3-31-11 (also because Drue's bday is a 31), but ah well. Twenty-nine is, as my dad would say, solid. Now if I could only get this most recent ultrasound pic scanned and up online. It is c-razy. Her eyes are open, and you can only see one of them because her hand is up over the other, but it is staring at you. It's a picture of a sad eyeball. Anyone who isn't me would think it is creepy. I think it is marvelous.

C is gone again. We partied hearty at the Spencers' tonight, and I made myself sick on dessert. Surprise! Drue had fun but was ready to come home at 8. WAY past her bedtime lately. She has an ear/tubes followup tomorrow. There is so much gunk coming out of her left ear, there is no question the tubes are working, but my question is: why SO much gunk?

Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Sunday Before the Week Before the Sunday Our Guy Goes to Cali

Today I slept in a bit because I didn't sleep much last night. Back pain. I tried taking an actual walk yesterday (instead of doing my walk-in-your-living-room workout), and it tore me up. Why? Drue woke me up by opening the door to our room and walking up to the side of the bed, as she usually does, and saying something while patting the bed. I wonder what it's like to see Mommy (or Momma, as she's been calling me the last week) appear out of the mound of covers on the bed. I think it's somewhat scary, because she always stands back a little bit, and toward the end of the bed, like she's ready to bolt if whatever comes out of the mound is NOT her Momma.

We got ready for church and headed out in just enough time to arrive at 10. Drue loooooves going to church. She gabbed the whole way (she usually whines in the car). She loves seeing all of her friends and tromping around. She walks with much purpose. She talks to herself and others and looks for "Becca" and "Bobby" and "Ashey," etc., and then remembers there are "cookies" and asks for one.

Today she sat with the Shipmas during church, which was cute, but I must admit I missed her. Strange? She was right across the aisle. I stuck half a piece of gum in her mouth at the beginning of the service, hoping it would keep her quieter than usual. (Bad mom?) She did great, or the Shipmas did. One of the songs we sang as a congregation was actually "Jesus Loves Me," so Collin and I had fun watching D's look of surprise when the entire room burst into the song she hears every night before bed. At a few points I even saw her try to mouth the words and attempt to sing, but I think she was too overcome with surprise to think much about singing.

I was a little upset at church. Understatement. I was grumpy and brought to tears when a teenager ran into me and almost knocked me over. (He's a sweetheart and was playing with the kids and accidentally knocked into me...but he's a crazily muscley football dude). It jarred my already hurting back something fierce, and I felt the baby, and my uterus, shimmy-shake, and so I was standing there talking to my friend Tim about C's upcoming job interviews, and I was suddenly was overcome with emotion when this kis ran into me. He didn't see me start to cry (thank goodness...he already felt terrible...truly the sweetest kid I've ever known). I don't know what it was. I just got upset. I apologized to Tim and all but sprinted off and slipped into the cry room to cry/try to stop crying. (The baby cry room, ha.) OK. I was OK. Mostly hormones and upset about my back hurting. But I could deal.

Then church starts, and Mike is praying, and all I can think is, I'm getting ready to start bawling. I feel like crap. What is going on? I tell Collin, and he suggests I "go have a good cry." It was the same advice he'd given me the night before when I laughed at a Facebook comment until I started crying. He'd said, "Why don't you just go to the bedroom and have a good cry?" (instead of trying to pull it together). NO. I had to pull it together. I was being crazy.

Today I took his advice. I left and went into the bathroom to cry it out, as it were, and it worked. All my body wanted to do was cry, so once I let it, it was done. I was no longer upset about much of anything. Hmm...as I'm writing this I'm thinking about babies and the "crying it out method." Hmm...

Anyway, things were normal again. We sang "Jesus Loves Me," and C took Drue to the nursery for the sermon. I sang for communion and all was normal. And remained normal. I guess there's no big ending to the story.

We came home and put Drue down and SLEPT. Collin on the floor and me on the couch. We slept the entire length of her nap. In silence (meaning no fan). I have come to appreciate silence so much these days. It was more than nice, until I felt like crap when we got up. But nonetheless, there were things to do...like make German chocolate cupcakes for small group, since the food theme tonight was German. Delicious and a great time with friends. A sad time too. A time of a lot of prayer. Somebody's dad died tonight. I don't know the family, but the news made me feel woozy like when you drive over an unexpected lift in the road. Still, there is something about sitting around with friends and reading Psalms.

Came home and put babe to bed. C watched an episode of Frasier and I read blogs. And now I am writing one. And now I am going to bed.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Remarks from the Blue Chair

We no longer have the green couch. That's a lie. We do. It's in "the garage room," which we don't use because we might be moving, and that's where we keep all the boxes I still haven't unpacked since we moved into this house.

The green cover that was on the green couch IS long gone, and now, if ever I write this blog, I write from a blue chair and not a green couch.

The chair is one of two my grandmother gave me. The same grandmother who buys Drue the most precious Baby-Gap-Manequin outfits. My mother bought the pillows for the chairs, and the two of us picked out the lamp that sits on the table between the chairs.

But that's boring.

Our guy got a second job interview in the same state as the first: Califronia. This means that next Sunday and the Sunday after he'll be flying out to Cali to try to secure a tenure-track position at one of two private colleges. I couldn't be more proud or excited...or scared. California? If ever there were a state I'd say I wouldn't mind moving to, California would probably be it, but being faced with the fact that we more than likely will be moving there (at least it feels that way) is...whoa.

One of the two colleges is a very prestigious, small liberal arts college. The other is a fairly (I think?) prestigious Christian college. Very different. This is interesting. When our guy had to write a statement of faith for the latter school (which bothered him), he was not rosey. He wrote a very honest, very beautiful, but very, I'm guessing, not-the-norm statement. I wasn't sure the people at this college would read it and be interested in him. The fact that they are makes me like the school without knowing much of anything else about it. But at this point I'd rather he get the job at the other college, if only because I know he wants that job more and it would allow him to do more research.

Geez...I can't believe Drue is going to (maybe...probably) be a California Girl. Eep!

Speaking of our girl...Drue has new words every day. I had no idea that she finally learned that a duck says quack. She did. She said it while looking through an animal book with her daddy after our Saturday Evening Family Outing.

We took her with us to Applebee's tonight because we had a gift card. She drank very watered down lemonade and tried a few bites of boneless buffalo wings, celery (or should I say bleu cheese dip?), breadstick (which she called "cake" until she tasted it), provolone-stuffed meatball and pasta. She, of course, finished early and proceeded to tell us, "All done! All done!" which meant she wanted DOWN, but we appeased her with my lipstick (into which she stuck her finger), a small jar of hand sanitizer ("hands"), a to-go box, and finally, a half a stick of gum from our waitress. This did the trick.

We then took the family to Barnes & Noble and watched D tromp around the kiddie section and perform on stage and make sure her daddy was watching. She loves his attention more and more. She absolutely loves Saturdays and Sundays because we're BOTH home, and when she wakes up from her nap those days she immediately goes looking for "Dahddy" and climbs into his lap and gives him at least two kisses. It is maybe the cutest thing ever.

I don't mind us all being home either. :) I seem to live for the weekends these days, mostly because C has been working late evenings to prep for the job interviews and presentations he has to give. So we don't see a lot of him weekdays. So it goes. Everything in seasons.

Our other little girl, who will be named Paige, is a mover and a shaker. I have enjoyed feeling more movement this pregnancy. It is something I am always fascinated with. In order not to gain any more "me" weight these last two months--and in order to be able to sleep at night--I've been trying to get at least some kind of low-impact workout each day. It feels good, though I still ONLY want to eat dessert. I refrained tonight from going to Braum's after eating a huge dinner at Applebee's and instead filled a small cup half full of dark chocolate chips. Not too bad, huh?

Anyway, I can't believe she's coming at the end of March. It still feels surreal. I keep envisioning seeing Drue for the first time and thinking, This is really going to happen again? What is that going to be like? Who is she going to look like? Are we going to parent her the same, or will she require a different style? Etc. I'm starting to get "nesty," though it's difficult to get too nesty when we might be moving so soon. Crazy.

As excited as I am, I'm also very nervous: about how Drue is going to do, about sleep, about how I'm going to take care of TWO HUMAN BEINGS. I already struggle with guilt every day, feeling like I don't do enough to educate Drue. Ugh. And we don't even have half the things we had for Drue when she was a babe, because we were borrowing them (exersaucer, playpad, etc.). Ah well...it's going to be fine and great and different.

Wednesday, December 08, 2010

Disjointed Christmas Post

I am officially enjoying the Christmas season, as of today really.

I have come out of the funk I've been in for a couple of weeks.
I enjoy taking off my glasses and gazing at our beautifully lit, blurry Christmas tree.
My kitchen is clean...and therefore ready to be destroyed by the upcoming candy-making extravaganza.
(I have made peace with the only-baking, no-other-sort-of-presents fact of life that is this Christmas.)
With class being over (TOMORROW!), I am no longer forced to think of my daughter's naptime as gold (and today enjoyed her awake time much more than her sleepy time; this could, and maybe should, be a post in and of itself).

Speaking of the daughter, I went ahead and broke down and took her to the doc today for MORE antibiotics; I gave her one dose, and she is already acting more her normal, cheerful self. I spent a bit of time looking up "tubes in ears" surgery, etc., this evening and am feeling better about it (since I know the ENT that we're seeing next week is going to tell me she needs them). I still don't like the idea of the forced unconsciousness of my 18-month-old, but I LOVE the idea of her not being sick and hurting anymore.

This evening I spent a good half hour reading the Williams-Sonoma Christmas cataglog. WHOA. I want everything, please. Thank you. (Everything except the $495 5-ounce jar of select caviar. Has anyone ever eaten caviar? Is it really so good?)

Another thing I'm enjoying: the fact that Collin's office hours stop after TOMORROW(!), and we will see him before 6 o'clock every weeknight.

I am not enjoying the fact that we loaned out our Christmas Vacation video. HOWEVER, I am enjoying the fact that friends who'd never seen this treasured movie are enjoying it perhaps as I write. So that cancels that out, doesn't it?

Yes, I am excited about Christmas, and Christmases to come...with our growing family. Our "girls." That sounds so strange still. I am thankful for today and for God's many blessings. I am sad for loved ones who are hurting and praying for them this Christmas. I am sad for the many people who are not joyful this Christmas, who do not find hope in its meaning, for any number of reasons. I fall short in service to my neighbor and in reaching out where love is desperately needed. That is sad. But there is light. And thankfully, my falling short doesn't keep God from doing his business of shedding that light and offering hope and working miracles.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Cards

Thanksgiving was good. It started off a bit rough, with a rough conversation, but the conversation turned out to be a blessing to all involved, and we had a marvelous holiday: me in the kitchen mostly, and Collin working on his car with his dad. (I'm so glad he has a hobby other than reading stats and psych books/articles.)

I have some pictures I will post below of Thanksgiving, but now it's Christmastime, seeing as Advent has begun and the Christmas tree is erected and decorated in true family form, and I want to post a couple of thoughts smooshing my brain. (These thoughts were already smooshing my brain, but thanks to awesome friend's blog post, they're at the forefront right at this moment.)

To send or not to send a Christmas card this year?

Every time I think about sending a Christmas card, I get tense, and I stress out...but I also really want to do it. Why? I'm not sure my motivations are sound. The stressers usually include: Do we even have money for this? But I love getting Christmas cards, and what if no one sends me one? (Note: poor motivation.) But I don't have time for that. I'll have to gather all those addresses (because I will NEVER have them in one place), and what if I miss someone, which I'll surely do, and do I send them to church friends, because there are so many, but they're my best friends, and do I find a picture we've already taken (is there one?!), or do I stress about getting a new one? Oh...WHEN am I going to get this done?!

Time. Out.

Do I even have to send a Christmas card? And if I do, does it HAVE to have a picture? The thought of not sending a Christmas card simultaneously makes me sad and relaxed. I just don't know. I DO want to send one, because it seems fun, and I haven't done it since the baby was born, but apparently it isn't fun for me? I do want to receive them from friends, but is that my motivation? And is that okay?

All to say, I would love your thoughts on the Christmas-card-sending experience.

Second: I am considering only giving candies as presents this year. (I would make them, of course. Every year we received these particular candies from our neighbors the Sights, and every year I couldn't wait until they arrived. They were and remain my favorite Chrismtas candy...and they're not really even a "Christmas" candy.) But as I sat and made my list of whom I would send them to, I couldn't help but worry that most people receiving them will be displeased not to have received a "real" present this year.

I'm certain this isn't the case...because that even looks ugly. There is no way my family, or Collin's, with maybe the exception of teenagers, will be upset receiving candies from us. But I keep worrying that they will.

JESUS SAYS NOT TO WORRY, MEGHAN. I know, I know. And I tell my husband this very truth often. I guess the tides have turned.

Oooooooh, side note...the bread in my bread machine is starting to smell gooooood.

Okay, that's enough for now. Here are the Thanksgiving pics. I was in charge of two types of potatoes, cranberry relish (which I forgot to add pecans to, oops!) and a pie. My first homemade pie crust. A semi-success. It needed lard.


Sweet girl with runny nose.


Candied "yams." (What is a yam?)


Nom nom nom...


Pie crust. (Collin every so kindly remarked, "Meghan, I believe this particular crimped area doesn't look as well crimped as the rest," then smirked when I gasped. I was a woman on the edge. Good thing he was kidding.)

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Frozen Meals: Homemade Version

I've been doing what I can to save money in the food department - since we're rebudgeting and cutting everywhere. Fun!

Actually, it is. It's like a game. My dear friend Jessie loaned me a book called Miserly Moms that has given me a lot of great ideas (as has Jessie), and I've gleaned what I can from a number of other friends as well. What I've learned so far? I can save a LOT more money than I thought.

For example, after my first round of grocery shopping to get started with this new "system," I've spent around $60 per week on groceries for a family of four (including house items like laundry deterrgent, diapers for baby, etc.). Incredible. I shudder to think of the money I've wasted over the years. I could have invested and been rich!

So, what am I doing (for starters)? Buying meat in bulk and making my own chicken broth and bread (Collin eats a LOT of bread), and eating vegetarian at least twice a week, and using less meat in meals in general (most of the time). It's amazing how simple it is.

First, I sat down and made a list of all the meals that I like to cook and that I can cook fairly easily (with "normal" ingredients). I came up with just under 40. Then I posted the list (organized into groups like beef, chicken, soup, vegetarian, etc.) on the fridge.

Second, I created a menu for the week to come. This was a Sunday night. It really didn't take long, and I can't believe I've not done this before. I posted this list on the fridge too.

The first thing I did was cook a whole chicken - the meat of which I'm still using (two weeks later) - then made broth out of the carcass and saved it in 2-cup portions in the freezer. By making meals that I can freeze half of, we practically cut our weekly budget in half. And I don't have to cook as much! Though I do love to cook, I also love the idea of only having to slice an avocado and some tomato from our dwindling garden while I throw my frozen pan of enchiladas in the oven. They're still homeade, and I don't have to spend an extra 45 minutes in the kitchen.

As far as non-dinner things go, Drue eats meat and cheese and fruit. I keep at least a box of some type of cracker around for snacks. She also loves my egg salad, which I've been making a huge batch of each week and eating on bread for lunch. Collin's lunches are fairly simple as well: a turkey sandwich and an apple with a bag of peanuts and Cheerios for a snack.

Breakfasts are PB toast for me and Drue and Grape Nuts and yogurt for Collin (Drue loves yogurt to). I've found a recipe for homeade Grape Nuts, which should save us some dough. And I'm really enjoying baking bread each week. Buy one cheap bag of flour and a jar of yeast, and you've got bread for weeks!

Fun times in the Barnes Kitchen.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Awkward Moment

The bear and I went to the mall today with some of my girlfriends and their kiddos. We got to the mall early because sunshine was having the most clingy, whiney morning of the century. She followed me around whining for over an hour, so we left an hour earlier than we usually do for our mall play date.

We pulled up just before 10:00, and we took a tour with the Mall Walkers before settling into the play area. My friends weren't there yet, but there were a couple other moms there, so I chatted it up with one of them whose four-year-old couldn't get enough of Drue. The mom was concerned that I was annoyed, but I tried to assure her I wasn't. (I was a little. A very little.)

Another mom came into the play area and sort of joined our conversation. Then when the first mom left, the other sat with me and continued talking. I'm fine with that. I've always loved talking to strangers. She was kind. She gave Drue a ball to play with, and Drue was having a blast. Where it got awkward was when this mom started disciplining all the children in the play area.

OK, let me not exaggerate. This mom was simply concerned for good behavior. But when another little girl smacked Drue, this mom started talking very loudly so that the other mother could hear: "That little girl just hit your daughter. Did you see that? She just hit her in the face? Why would she do that?"

OK. This made me nervous. In my head I'm thinking, Shut up! Don't you know the othe mom can hear you? How embarrassing. This isn't that big a deal. They're tiny little people. Drue's not even that upset.

But I went back and kept smiling and let her talk and acted like everything was good, because generally it was. Then out of the blue (and I mean out of the blue; we were talking about something else entirely, and she just changed the subject with this), the woman started, in her own way, trying to witness to me. At this point she'd already praised my daughter and asked me, "Do you take her to church? Is she around other children?" to which I'd responded, "Why yes." But now she tells me a story of answered prayer and I feel like she is just wanting to make sure I'm a Christian, because if I'm not, she's going to share the gospel with me right this second.

OK. This makes me feel a number of emotions, two of which are guilt and annoyance.

A little time passes, and I get ready to leave because my friends aren't there yet, and Drue is hungry and getting tired, but then my friends show up, so I come back and give Drue a banana in the play area (against the rules!), and this mom is so happy I've come back, or so it seems by her smile and the way she greets me.

But uh oh. The same little girl who hit Drue the first time (she had actually done it twice at this point) hit Drue again. And again, I didn't see it. And again, when I did look over, Drue wasn't that upset. But the only reason I did look over was because when it happened, the lady got up, rushed to the scene of the crime and started scolding the mom whose daughter hit mine. I am not kidding: scolding. Loudly.

The poor other mom tried to keep this mom from disciplining her daughter and rushed her over to me and Drue to apologize. The whole time I'm hoping she doesn't think I'm with the mom who just yelled at her. We told the little girl we forgave her, and I told the mom she was sweet to do that. That it wasn't the end of the world. (She was upset.)

I didn't say anything to the scolding mom, but when she started telling other children they needed to say please and, specifically, telling my friends that they needed to discipline their children for playing too rough or taking the ball that Drue was supposed to be playing with, I was out of there. In fact, two out of the four of us were out of there. We'd been there long enough, so it was all good. But I'm writing all of this because I'm curious: how would you have handled the situation?

Friday, July 16, 2010

My Life

Blah. Too busy to post. Every day I think of something I want to write about on this here blog, and every day I'm too busy or tired of the computer to write it.

Gotta go clean a poopie diaper.

P.S. This doesn't mean I'm quitting writing. By no means.