State of Obvious

I know you all wait the whole year for this special post.  Let me assure you, this year it's really good.  Unattainable, but good.  Without further ado, my Christmas list: 1. A new sofa, something sort of like this: This isn't exactly right, because I'd also like it to have recliners - but I don't want an overstuffed, lumpy back end looking sofa.  Basically, it probably doesn't exist and if it does, I certainly can't afford it.  But, Carly keeps asking for a Barbie dream house too, so I figure why not aim high? Santometer says: Even you know it's not possible. 2. This, so much this:  In the interest of full disclosure, I shall disclose that I had a Ford Edge before.  And it was my most very favorite car that I've ever owned/driven/ridden in.  I hope to someday repeat the experience.  Hopefully this whole educating myself to get a job plan will yield one in the future.  But if not...maybe a hotwheels version? Sa...

...has been a hard one for me.  For a lot of reasons, some of which I'll list (school, teaching, school, busy-ness, school...) and some of which I won't (........).  I'm tired.  To a degree that I have not experienced before.  They told me going in (to the first semester of a Master's Degree and Teacher Certification combined) that this one would be the hardest.  And it has been.  Not because of the classes - those haven't been that bad, actually.  But because of the amount of running around, planning, revising, running around some more, and missing my family that comes with those classes.  I just keep telling myself to hang in there, it's almost done, only a little longer, and so on.  And here I am at the end, still mostly in once piece. ...has been a season of grief.  Everywhere I look, I see people and things that I've lost.  Eric's mom, Ann, seems to be whispering in my ear.  I even dream about her on a regular basis. ...

I looked at you and I thought Oh, that's what this is. It's brimming over with pride, screaming inside with fear, falling all over myself, I'm sorry I said that, Can we start over, Green, blue, gold, And red. I looked at you and I thought How did we get here? This place where the words echo Flying between us like projectiles Sharp and sweet and smothering. When did we make that turn And suddenly arrive in new territory Where you are almost grown And I am running behind Trying to catch up. I looked at you and I thought I see me In your eyes, in your face, in your smile I see the puzzle pieces fit together But somewhat out of order And with landscapes I don't recognize Places I have Never been. I looked at you and I thought You are still mine. You will always be mine. These broken moments Are only fragments of what we are Who we are Who we can be Who we will be Together.

There is this moment when the thing we fear becomes like an animal in a cage.  We feed it, give it treats, reach into to steal a stroke, tease it, name it, watch it pace in front of the bars.  We get comfortable with it and begin to lose the tightness in our belly.  We begin to believe our feelings were not justified, that we were just being silly.  We begin to make friends with that animal in the cage and we decide to let it out, to see if it has suddenly become civilized.  Inevitably, it has not and then comes the bloody, broken mess on the floor that we have to clean up even as we know we created the mess and we don't want to see that thing we've let loose.  And we have to put it back in the cage, the struggle ensues, and we are irrevocably scarred by the experience only to begin the process again. Lately I seem to be reading, talking, thinking, talking, watching, talking about inclusion and diversity.  As if one of those things is somehow more va...

Dear Charlotte, Carly was baptized on Saturday.  After some stress and movie trouble and programs printed wrong twice in a row, it went off without a hitch.  Carly wore a lovely white dress which you made and she positively glowed.  I've never been hugged so tight by the starfish child as when she came to me out of the font. When I took you to the airport, a most odious task I always dread because it means you are leaving, you thanked me for letting you participate in Carly's baptism and life in general.  It caught me off guard, I'm sure you noticed.  Because, I can't image it any other way.  If anything, I wish I had you more.  More tickling and laughing and comforting and loving.  Because you give all that you have so freely.  Because you make way and make time and make efforts beyond what's minimally required by ties of "family".  Because I cannot remember a time in my life where I have not admired you.  Although perhaps you ...

Married life is not what I expected.  Oh, there are some things that seem "normal" - you know, the kids, houses, dogs, jobs, worries, and all that.  But, I don't think anything can prepare you for what it is like to share your life if you're all in.  Because, if you are all in, you have to surrender.  Control, mostly.  You are no longer the only thing that matters. In the last sixteen years, we have: Moved four times. Welcomed two children. Had 3 dogs and 4 cats. Visited the Grand Canyon. Gone swimming in the Great Lakes and Pacific Ocean. Bought a house. Owned or leased 8 different cars (holy smokes!). Earned a master's degree and bachelor's degree between us. Had 10 different jobs between us. Stayed in really bad motels, slightly better hotels, and really nice hotels on various occasions. Been through: Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Iowa, Texas, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, California, New York, Pennsylva...

August is a busy month in the T house.  Carly's birthday comes first (as noted), followed quickly by Josh, followed even more quickly by our wedding anniversary.  Quick fact: Joshua came home from the hospital on our first anniversary.  Fourteen other quick and dirty facts about my firstborn: Photo by DeAnn Payne thesipproject.blogspot.com -  He loves Godzilla. -  And Bigfoot. -  His long standing nickname is Chibby.  He earned it by naming his toys "Chibby" when he was playing pretend.  At one point, he requested that we stop calling him Chibby and start calling him Shredder instead.  That didn't really work out. -  Other nicknames include, but are not limited to: Chibnasty, Chibster, Joshy Boy, Joshy Boshy, Joshuweta, Joshy, and Bug-a-boo (though that last one is rather antiquated these days, sigh). -  Josh has a secret and special nickname assigned by his Aunt Charlotte which I shall not reveal. -  Josh love...