As you know, I'm over 40. 43 years old, to be exact.
My husband will be 50 in December. He is one of the last of his group of friends to turn 50.
We went to his friend Kevin's 50th birthday party this past Tuesday, with our two little munchkins (who were, I admit, the LIFE of the party). I knew most of the people, who were Kevin's friends and family. I did my usual - held Joseph, followed John, chatted with people, followed John, introduced myself and my boys when necessary, followed John. It was great. I didn't have to talk if I didn't want to, I could use my boys as an excuse to leave an awkward situation.
John was so so busy in Kevin's & Sheila's back yard. They have two boys, grown now, and have created their house and yard to withstand little (and huge) boys. John could do no harm. He discovered all the fountains and ponds and fish and rocks and sticks and hiding places. The yard was totally fenced in, so I didn't have to worry about him getting out. He was free to roam and play and explore and discover and dart about. There were other little children there, but they stayed with their mommies. John went to each adult and asked them, in his precious little lisp, how they were doing and did they want to see his compass (or his rock or his stick or whatever else he stuffed in his pocket). Every person knew John within one hour of us being there. It was great.
Anyway, back to me. This is really why I am writing this post. I visited with the other wives of my husband's friends, with the grandparents and children and everyone in between. I didn't notice anything unusual.
On our drive home, around 9:30, both boys were asleep. My husband told me how beautiful I looked. He said I was the prettiest, youngest-looking woman at the party. He said he couldn't believe how young I looked, that I could pass for someone in my late 20s or early 30s.
YES!!!
If you were to ask me my age, my first gut-level response would be 24. Then I have to think and re-answer. Ugh. I'm glad I look younger that I am. Except, I've been noticing the grey hair. I've been a dark blonde all of my adult life and now the dark blonde around my face is turning grey. When I was younger (0-20 years old) I was REALLY blonde. Naturally really blonde. My John is really blonde, just like I was.
I want to be that blonde again. I made an appointment with my hair "artiste", Darrell, who has been doing my hair nicely for over 10 years, for this Thurs., July 1 at 10:30 am. He is going to color my hair, get rid of the grey. But I don't want him to color it the dark dirty blonde it has become. I want to become BLONDE like I used to be. Like my John.
I want to become, again, a bodacious blonde bimbo. I was one, once. I want to become one again. If it works, I'll post photos. I don't need a boob job. Mine are big enough, even before I was nursing babies. I'm working on losing the baby weight (and puberty weight, and college weight, and living alone in my 20s weight, and partying every night in my 30s weight). I've lost almost 15 pounds since April Fools Day. I have 35 pounds to go. I'm short, so , yes, I have 35 pounds to lose. By my husband's 50th birthday in December. It can be done. 2 pounds each week. I just need to be disciplined and not eat after 7 pm. Oh, and give up chocolate. Ugh.
Bodacious Blonde Bimbo...ready or not, here I come!
Friday, June 25, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Tell Me THAT Story
My John is so interesting. I've never met anyone like him. He actually learns from stories. He asks me to tell him stories about things all day long. And I try to do just that, just for him. Doesn't matter where we are or what we are doing.
As I place him in his blue bucket swing, under our cedar trees, he says, "Tell me about the little boy (bo-wee) whose mommy is putting him in his swing under his green cedar trees, in his pajamas, and he wants to stand in his swing, not sit. Tell me THAT story." So I make up a story about just that, with a little lesson on how he must sit on the swing so he does not fall out.
As I change his diaper, he says, "Tell me the story of the little boy whose mommy is changing his diaper and gets boom on the sofa because he wouldn't lie still. Tell me THAT story." So I do. Lesson: stay still, with your legs up, so we don't get boom everywhere. AND, when you go boom on the toilet, you don't have to worry about getting it everywhere or lying still while mommy changes your diaper. We're really encouraging using the toilet, since preschool begins in 2.5 short months.
After John hits Baby Joey on the head with his knuckles, he tearfully says, "Tell me the story about the little boy who hits his baby on the head with his knuckles. Tell me THAT story." And so I do, about the nice little boy who loves his baby brother so much that he is just bursting with love and it comes out hard through his fist. And the big boy feels so badly for hurting the baby and making the baby cry. And how the little boy never wants to do that again, never ever. And how the little boy will have to go to time-out if he hits the baby again. Then John puts his face on Joey's head, "giving Joey the love" he says.
When we drive up to our house, John says, "Tell me the story about the little boy who injusts (adjusts) mommy's seat so much that she can't reach the pedals or climb up or sit up straight. Tell me THAT story." So, as he is "injusting" my driver's seat, I laughingly tell him of the fun little boy who moves mommy's seat around so much that I am facing backward and upside-down while I'm driving. And how Johnny pushes a button so that I fly out the roof into the sky. He laughs and laughs, trying to move the seat in every which way. Not all of our stories are serious lesson stories.
The list wonderfully goes on. I'm telling stories every few minutes sometimes, especially when John feels like being naughty, or accidentally is naughty or gets hurt. He really does learn from them, often choosing NOT to repeat the crime or accident (ack-sident).
And he is trying to do funny things, to hear funny stories so he can laugh and laugh. He loves laughing (I have an ultrasound photo of him, laughing in-utero, at about 30 weeks), and he LOVES making Joey laugh. That is often his goal in life. John makes Joey laugh more than anyone else can. John can make eye-contact with Joseph, and Joseph will scream laugh and hide his eyes and face in my chest, then look back at John and laugh some more. When John speaks to Joey, Joey cracks up, no matter what John says. They have a cool connection. They understand each other, without needing to speak. I love watching them. I hope they will be best friends forever, truly.
Tell me THAT story.
As I place him in his blue bucket swing, under our cedar trees, he says, "Tell me about the little boy (bo-wee) whose mommy is putting him in his swing under his green cedar trees, in his pajamas, and he wants to stand in his swing, not sit. Tell me THAT story." So I make up a story about just that, with a little lesson on how he must sit on the swing so he does not fall out.
As I change his diaper, he says, "Tell me the story of the little boy whose mommy is changing his diaper and gets boom on the sofa because he wouldn't lie still. Tell me THAT story." So I do. Lesson: stay still, with your legs up, so we don't get boom everywhere. AND, when you go boom on the toilet, you don't have to worry about getting it everywhere or lying still while mommy changes your diaper. We're really encouraging using the toilet, since preschool begins in 2.5 short months.
After John hits Baby Joey on the head with his knuckles, he tearfully says, "Tell me the story about the little boy who hits his baby on the head with his knuckles. Tell me THAT story." And so I do, about the nice little boy who loves his baby brother so much that he is just bursting with love and it comes out hard through his fist. And the big boy feels so badly for hurting the baby and making the baby cry. And how the little boy never wants to do that again, never ever. And how the little boy will have to go to time-out if he hits the baby again. Then John puts his face on Joey's head, "giving Joey the love" he says.
When we drive up to our house, John says, "Tell me the story about the little boy who injusts (adjusts) mommy's seat so much that she can't reach the pedals or climb up or sit up straight. Tell me THAT story." So, as he is "injusting" my driver's seat, I laughingly tell him of the fun little boy who moves mommy's seat around so much that I am facing backward and upside-down while I'm driving. And how Johnny pushes a button so that I fly out the roof into the sky. He laughs and laughs, trying to move the seat in every which way. Not all of our stories are serious lesson stories.
The list wonderfully goes on. I'm telling stories every few minutes sometimes, especially when John feels like being naughty, or accidentally is naughty or gets hurt. He really does learn from them, often choosing NOT to repeat the crime or accident (ack-sident).
And he is trying to do funny things, to hear funny stories so he can laugh and laugh. He loves laughing (I have an ultrasound photo of him, laughing in-utero, at about 30 weeks), and he LOVES making Joey laugh. That is often his goal in life. John makes Joey laugh more than anyone else can. John can make eye-contact with Joseph, and Joseph will scream laugh and hide his eyes and face in my chest, then look back at John and laugh some more. When John speaks to Joey, Joey cracks up, no matter what John says. They have a cool connection. They understand each other, without needing to speak. I love watching them. I hope they will be best friends forever, truly.
Tell me THAT story.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Two Years Ago Today
I was sitting on my sister's back porch in Portland, OR, with my Auntie Joan, my sister Colleen, 4-year-old Molly, and my baby John. He was just over 13 months when we drove to Portland. It was hot and sunny and we were playing outside. I was holding John on my lap, watching Joan and Molly gather all of Molly's baby dolls. Joan held up a doll to John and said, "Look at the little baby, John."
John looked at the dolly, looked at me, smiled, and said, "Baby".
HIS FIRST WORD!! MY BABY JOHN'S FIRST REAL WORD!!!
I will never forget that afternoon and his sweet smiling, proud face. He knew he did something pretty amazing.
And now, as John gives "the love" to his own little Baby Joey, who is exactly two-and-a-half years younger than he is, he says "baby" so sweetly, so casually, as if he's been saying it all of his life. And, really, he has.
John looked at the dolly, looked at me, smiled, and said, "Baby".
HIS FIRST WORD!! MY BABY JOHN'S FIRST REAL WORD!!!
I will never forget that afternoon and his sweet smiling, proud face. He knew he did something pretty amazing.
And now, as John gives "the love" to his own little Baby Joey, who is exactly two-and-a-half years younger than he is, he says "baby" so sweetly, so casually, as if he's been saying it all of his life. And, really, he has.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
My Home Repair List - Handsome Handyman, Part 2
Oh my gosh, things around this house STILL need to be fixed. I'm not kidding. I make lists, put them up on the kitchen cupboard where someone in particular looks every day. They go unmentioned and unfixed for weeks. I take the list down in frustration (and because that certain "someone in particular" splattered tomato sauce or coffee on the list). I can't find any of my lists, so I decided to post them on my blog. I always know where my computer is and where my blog is. So, here are things that need to be done around here, for which I need help (physical and emotional and mental, sometimes). Hello, Handsome Handyman!
John's playhouse walls must be secured together
Pipe on back of house need to be replaced (it burst this winter, and we need it to operate our
sprinklers)
Door threshold between playroom and hallway (there is no threshold)
Playroom ceiling lights get really really really really warm
Playroom light switch needs to be switched
Playroom electrical sockets, changed to 3-prongs
Weeds all along sidewalk need to be dug out and killed
Pick up bags of bark for front, sides, and back of house
Fill gaping hole in front of house with dirt
Clean gutters (get ladder - my very own ladder - from Terry's rental house - why is it there
anyway, it is MINE)
Stove - only two out of four burners work
Dishwasher - the soap dispenser door broke off
Cut branches off neighbor's Maple Tree that invade our roof and power lines
Sand baseboard
Make quarter-inch-round for baseboards
I will add to this list as needed. And I will check off the items that are fixed, no matter who fixes them. I'll let you know if it was, indeed, my handsome handyman. Sigh.
John's playhouse walls must be secured together
Pipe on back of house need to be replaced (it burst this winter, and we need it to operate our
sprinklers)
Door threshold between playroom and hallway (there is no threshold)
Playroom ceiling lights get really really really really warm
Playroom light switch needs to be switched
Playroom electrical sockets, changed to 3-prongs
Weeds all along sidewalk need to be dug out and killed
Pick up bags of bark for front, sides, and back of house
Fill gaping hole in front of house with dirt
Clean gutters (get ladder - my very own ladder - from Terry's rental house - why is it there
anyway, it is MINE)
Stove - only two out of four burners work
Dishwasher - the soap dispenser door broke off
Cut branches off neighbor's Maple Tree that invade our roof and power lines
Sand baseboard
Make quarter-inch-round for baseboards
I will add to this list as needed. And I will check off the items that are fixed, no matter who fixes them. I'll let you know if it was, indeed, my handsome handyman. Sigh.
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