No, this isn't about the TV show. It's about why I haven't posted in a couple of weeks.
Lost-
as in my cell phone after a weekend trip. As my husband helped me look for it, I felt like such a flake. He always has a 'place' for his. I was sure I'd left it in my purse, so after a quick search, I dumped out the contents of my purse on the dining table and did a thorough one. No luck. I looked all over. I tried calling it, no dice. Then I had a flash of memory- I saw myself turning it off, and zipping it in a little pocket of my purse I never use to keep it safe. Bingo! Earlgirl is a flake no more! Until we went to the bank.
My sweet husband set up a bank account without me, which is a problem because I do the banking, and they kinda like you to be on the account if you use it. They're sticklers that way. We were walking into the bank and he asked me, "You're sure you have your ID with you, I think I saw your wallet on the table earlier."
I did a quick scan of my purse. It wasn't there. I searched the whole house for 2 days. No wallet. No license, no recommend, no $100 in babysitting vouchers for the gym I've been squirreling away to be used at some future point. No cards, no medical ID, which is a biggie. If you're already stressed, you know how much a lost wallet will compound the problem? Last night, the blessed wallet was found. Half the contents were in Hercules' golden treasure box in his closet. The other cards were under a pile of toys I'd searched through before. All clues implicate a certain 3 year old. It's a good thing he's cute, I tell you.
Now if I could only find my keys.
Lost-
a library book I'd been searching for and enlisted the help of our friendly neighborhood library. They checked their shelves, I paid some fines, but we still couldn't find it. It was due 30 days before when I finally found it wedged between a book shelf and the wall. I turned it in, and checked to see what my fine was. Surprise, surprise! I owed them $10, and they sent it to collections. Yeah, I know. I was freaking out. The library supervisor couldn't tell me if it was an internal collections thing or real-life-destroy-your-credit collections. I needed to call a certain gal to find that out. I left no less than 12 voice mails with no response. I tell you, they were getting pretty creative too. I was about to set my messages to show tunes and sing them, or Dr. Seuss language, and pretend I'm reading them a story. It turns out, they were all out of the office, but I'm sure they were entertained by my messages. No damage to my credit either, I had 120 days to settle my fine before it did. It's a good thing too, because I was about to go "Library" on them, which is the same thing as "Postal", but quieter.
Lost- my dignity.
Have you ever been one of many guests in a home, and you have to use the bathroom, and there's this huge one inch space between the door and the acoustic-friendly tile? And it's one of those new toilet that can hardly handle any toilet paper and so you accidentally use too much because you live in a home where 'power flush' toilets are a necessity? And you plug the toilet, and you try to plunge it quietly while you can still hear conversation on the other side of the door? You're barely breathing because somehow you feel like that will lessen the "Blorp- Slosh" sound of the plunger that should be working, but it's not. Have you ever decided that letting the toilet paper dissolve on its own is a better plan than coming up to your host and whispering, "Um, I plugged your toilet. Sorry."? Me neither.
Lost- my sanity.
Have you ever obsessed about a parenting issue to such an extent that it grows and grows until it's all you can see? It's no fun, but it's easy to do. It's easy to think that by worrying, you can take the problem on yourself and solve it just by the sheer weight of how much you care. You can't, at least I can't. I realized last night that it's not that bad, and I'm already doing everything I can to help the situation. Worrying doesn't actually count as helping either. With that slap upside the head, I'm seeing the situation more clearly and I realized that it wasn't the huge, hairy deal it had become in my mind. Hooray! Sanity found.
So here's the scorecard:
Found:
Sanity
Wallet
Library book
Still Lost:
Dignity
Keys (I'll keep you posted)
Not bad for a couple of week's work, eh?
That's right folks, I have some new movie reviews for you. I don't know exactly how new these movies really are, but they're new to me. Both of these babies can be found under the "watch instantly" section of my beloved Netflix. (you can see my other recommendations here)
A really interesting friendship develops from this. Both girls are preparing for their arranged marriages, and the similarities in their lives become so much more important than their differences. The result is hilarious, fascinating, and very satisfying to my hunger for other cultures.
Don't be put off by the title of this one. It means 'guests' in Aramaic. In fact, the entire movie is in Hebrew, with English subtitles. Still, don't let that intimidate you. This story takes place during a Jewish festival that only sounds vaguely familiar to me from early morning seminary- Succoth. Moshe, a Rabbi in Old Jerusalem, is flat broke. He desperately wants to be able to provide a enough for his wife to be able to celebrate the holy festival. His wife aches to be able to have children. They decide to pray for a miracle. They're doing their best to live righteous lives, and they combine their faith in some of the most heart-rending prayers I have ever seen. What happens next is a miracle, and a test that takes on Abrahamic proportions.
"So, are you having a good Christmas?"
I was asked this over and over by well-meaning relatives at our annual Christmas eve feast. They couldn't see that my smile was plastic and my eyes looked more manic than merry. They were just making conversation.
As they would ask that simple, innocent question, my mind would flash back through the last few days:
The stress, the huge projects dumped in my lap, the kids cooped up inside going mad with boredom, the mess, the roads too icy to drive on and too much shopping left to be done. I thought about the hour before the party when I'd had enough and cast my oldest out of the house into the snow and told him not to come back inside. I was nice and threw his coat out after him- that's a mother's love for ya!
"No, this is more like Christmas hell than anything." I wanted to say. I might have actually said it too, I don't remember.
All I know is, Christmas day made it all worthwhile.
We all slept in until 9.
The boys drew names for each other and some had saved for months to be able to give something really special.
I had all my sibs in town, so there was a lot of goofing off, singing while my brother played the guitar, Rock band, and karaoke.
I'd put in the time and slaved the day before on the mother of all feasts, so all the work I had to do was enjoy it.
I live for putting on feasts. I'm not fancy, I never have table decorations or anything like that.
I just love making lots of good food, for lots of wonderful people. When I've brined a turkey, mashed the potatoes, whisked the gravy, raised the rolls, baked the pies, and I lay all that in front of a crowd, it's nirvana, man. I'm in the happy zone. I can live on it for days.
Here are some pictures of the more memorable moments:
Playing a game at my Christmas day feast.
We've had crazy weather here. Usually we have snow for a day, then a warm wind will come the next day and melt it all. It was so cold for so long, the snow was too dry for building anything. Our beloved wind came yesterday, making the snow just right for making these babies.
Speaking of babies, this is my brother's first child. He's been frantic for the chance to show her off to all of us far away siblings. We got to just slurp her up for days, it was lovely.
Speaking of lovely, is there a more beautiful sight than a man in a frilly apron.
There's nothing frilly about the presents my sister's boys made for mine. Nothing says love between boys than hand-hewn weaponry. It seriously made me want to cry.
And how sweet is this? My bro doing the chords while my little guy strums.
I have to set the stage for this one. Ammon saved up and spent over $50 on this present for his brother. Can you tell how excited he is to see him open it? When I asked him what his favorite part of Christmas was, he told me it was the look on his brother's face as he opened the gift he'd sacrificed so much for.
Talk about a good time! Gut busting laughter is good for the soul, and for your abs. I'm glad there's a lot of that to go around over here.
"I'm the biggest loser in the world!" I complained into my cell phone. I was parked in front of the middle school where I'd just dropped off my kids. Stuck. My van wouldn't budge. I watched glumly as other parents in big trucks, SUVs and even little zippy cars dropped their kids off and left again.
"You're not the biggest loser in the world," my neighbor consoled, "have you ever had to explain to the police(insert her embarrassing experience here)?"
"No, you're right, I've never done that. I just don't understand why my van is handling the snow so badly!"
We'd been on and off the phone since I'd begun my carpooling journey this morning. I could barely make it out of my shoveled driveway, and got stuck again on our street. The van was acting so funny, that I made a quick check to see if there were any alarm lights or on or anything. Nothing. It was a slippery ride to school, with many a spinning tire. But we made it. And there I stayed.
Before I even knew I was stuck, I called my trusty husband to tell him how terrible the van was driving on the ice.
"Just come straight here to the dealership. I'll have some snow tires put on." (The tires that I had on weren't snow tires, but they were still pretty new. They shouldn't have been a problem.) My hubby's work was only a couple of miles from where I was. I took a quick peek in the mirror. I still had curlers in. No makeup. I had visiting teaching appointments in 30 minutes.
"I can't! I have a day planned, I don't have time for this. I'll just go home, have someone else drive to our appointments, and think about it tomorrow."
I tried to pull out. And then I knew I was in trouble. None of my "getting out when you're stuck in the snow" tricks worked.(I'm actually an expert at driving in a ditch after I've slid into one. It was a useful tool in high school. There's never any snow here, so I haven't needed that maneuver in a while)
I swallowed my pride. I made some quick calls, pulled out my curlers, and submitted to my husband's superior reasoning.
"Babe, I'm actually stuck here. I can't move. It looks like I'll need some help after all."
He came. He sprinkled some ice melt around the tires. Then he took off the parking brake, and the van sprang to life and left its snowy grave.
The parking brake.
Was set.
I'd driven the entire way with the parking brake on.
"You're lucky there was snow, or your tires might have caught fire and burned up the van."
"Hummph."
In my defense, it's MY van. I never set the parking break unless I'm somewhere on a hill, and then I remember to release it, because I'M the one that set it. HE had driven my van last, and set the parking break out of habit. The light for said brake is on a little console that's blocked from view by the steering wheel. I never think to look there.
"Are you mad? Are you mad at me because I set the parking break?" He asked with a smile in his voice.
I couldn't decide. He explained that he always sets the parking break when he drives the van in case some child climbs in, puts the car in neutral and squishes someone. (Which in our family is a distinct possibility) How can you be mad at someone for that?
At least from now until the end of time, I will remember to check the parking brake. And I'll have a good story to tell. That's something, right?
