M.I.A.

I haven't been posting that much here lately.

If I said things had been hectic at work and just calmed down in the past few weeks, so I now, finally, have the time to post, I'd be telling the truth.
If I said I had been busy with a nice visit from my Father-in-Law, followed by us packing up and heading out on the road ourselves, that would be true too.
If I said I needed to prioritize family time, paying bills, and laundry before surfing the web and blogging, again, that would be the truth.

But if I'm being HONEST, I mean completely honest, none of those are the real reasons I haven't been posting. The real reason you haven't seen me around these parts is because I've been spending time with some friends I have made.

For a little while now, not exactly sure how long, I've been receiving invitations to a very private, very exclusive party. When I first started receiving invitations to these uber-exclusive gatherings, I would think about going, but would always decline. "Nah," I would say, "I have too much going on to really make time for this", and I wouldn't really give it much thought. But one day my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to attend.

On my first visit I met a woman that had given birth to a very premature baby -- it was also her first child. We had so much to talk about. We talked about the lingering twinge of guilt for not being able to carry our kids to term, the different types of therapy our kids had been through, the current delays they were experiencing. We talked about our concerns for their future development, and thoughts about family planning. That's when she told me that she had always sworn she would never have an only child, but now that she has lived the reality of having a premature baby, she was rethinking that theory. "Is it fair to even think about having another child if there is even the slightest possibility this could happen again?" she asked. I could only sigh and shrug my shoulders. I didn't have an answer for her and it broke my heart.

At the next get-together I was all set to talk Mrs. Preemie Mommy, only she wasn't there. Instead, I struck up a conversation with a working (outside the home) mother. We commiserated about trying to manage all of our responsibilities. We tried to figure out how to balance spending 9-10 hours away from home Monday through Friday with having quality time with our families, doing laundry, paying bills, cleaning the house, cooking, maintaining friendships, exercising, and much, much more. At the end of the conversation we walked away feeling even more overwhelmed than when we started.

After looking around and not seeing Mrs. Preemie Mommy or Mrs. Overwhelmed at the next gathering, I didn't know what to do or who to talk to. I didn't have to wait long before Mrs. Questioning Christian showed up. "I believe in God", she said "so much that sometimes it seems like I can feel His presence right beside me. I love moments like that. But then there are other times, times when I don't feel His presence at all. I pray for clear guidance, for direction, and months later I'm still clueless."

Yep Mrs. Questioning Christian, I feel your pain.

And those were just a few of the ladies I met. I also conversed with Mrs. Failed perfectionist, Mrs. I-am-the-only-one-that-feels-like-this, Mrs. Indecisive, Mrs. Fear of failure, Mrs. I-don't-have-any-friends, and I tended to chat quite frequently with Mrs. The-grass-on-their-lawn-is-so-much-greener.

Is it becoming clear yet? Yeah, I imagined it would.

As I'm sure you've surmised, I haven't been around these parts because I have been way too busy attending my very own pity party. I never intended to stay long, but a funny thing happens when you begin to dwell on your shortcomings and problems -- perceived or real-- you tend to elicit a more-the-merrier attitude and will find yourself making room for more negative thoughts to join in on the festivities.

Like attracts like and all that jazz.

So instead of hanging out with those friends, I've been spending some time with Mrs. Gratitude. She's been reminding me of all the things, the countless things, the oh so many things, I am grateful for. She's been keeping me in line when I feel the urge to strike up a conversation with my pessimistic pals, and when I'm tempted to feel like I've failed to live up to an unreasonable expectation I set for myself, she has reminded me that there are people out there (people in my own home even) that think I'm just swell, and it's OK for me to think the same.

Gone, but not forgotten

1958-2009

Say what you will about Michael Jackson, but let's face it: He was an amazing song writer, a superb performer, an impeccable producer, and in my opinion, the best all around entertainer of my generation. I'm sure he will be missed by his family, friends, and fans, but his music will live on forever. You better believe that.

Yesterday to celebrate the life and musical genius of Michael Jackson, I danced to Beat it and Billy Jean, rocked out to Dirty Diana and Scream, became introspective listening to Man in the Mirror and Heal the World, and reminisced with Hubby as we told our stories about watching the Thriller video for the first time.
And then around 7:45 pm, when the You Rock My World video started playing and my silly 2 year old jumped up and began dancing and giggling, all I could do was look at him, smile, and say "You have no idea kid. You really have no idea."

RIP MJ

Photo from earnest70six

I was robbed!

Stolen Item: A delicious panko breaded tilapia fish sandwich, served on a slightly toasted wheat bun, with homemade tarter sauce, a dab of ketchup, and a sliver of swiss cheese.

The prime suspect:


It all started off innocent enough, or so I thought. The person in the photo above joined me on the couch after waking from his afternoon nap. He looked at my beloved sandwich with a certain sparkle in his eye. In hindsight, that should have tipped me off immediately.
Anyway, after a few seconds of sitting quietly, he leaned in and as fast as lightning took a small bite out of my sandwich as I was still holding it.

But wait, there's more.

While I sat in shock, this little person seized the moment, and in one fell swoop took the entire sandwich out of my hands and began to chomp on it.

It was blatant thievery I tell ya...In my own household...On a Sunday!

Good Luck Charm

As I alluded to in my previous post, my Mother's Day afternoon was spent with my two favorite guys at the Houston Rockets vs. LA Lakers playoff game.

Game 4 was awesome! The Rockets took charge from the very beginning and never let up. There were 3-pointers galore, great defense, and at one point a 29 point lead by the Rockets. It was everything a girl could dream of.

Now I know many were concerned when they heard that Yao would be out for the rest of the season, and I, admittedly, was a little worried about the outcome of game 4, but then I remembered something:

Ian is the Rockets good luck charm.

You want proof? How about this. Every time Ian makes an appearance at a Rockets game they have dominated. Every single time. The fact that he has only been to one other Rockets game prior to this one is immaterial. The point is, if the Rockets want to win, they need my kid (and his parents of course) at the game. Period. And that my friends, is the exact logic I'm going to use when I write the Rockets organization to persuade them to give us season tickets.

Anyway, enough babbling, here are a couple of blurry cell cam pics of Ian and his b-ball skills in the play area at the Toyota Center.


Look at that face. He's all business. Just itching to get out on the court



Do you see the grip he has on that ball?



He's lightning fast. So fast that I wasn't ready and only caught the picture after the ball was already out of view.
And look at all his adoring fans in the background.

Take a guess

Guess where I'll be spending my Mother's day afternoon?
Here's a hint :)

Happy Mother's day to all the Mom's out there!

Kids say the darndest things

You know those parents that tell silly little stories about their kid on their blog? Oh come on, you know the type. They tell a story that they think is so cute and funny, but in reality it's probably not cute or funny, it's just that they are so head over heels in love with their kid that they believe everything that he or she does is "so adorable."

Well guess what? I am that parent. Get used to it.

***Story 1***

A few weeks back we went to my hometown for the weekend. We also went to church with my parents. Now it's no secret that my parents' church service is *ahem* a tad bit longer than the church we attend at home, but I figured with enough crayons, books, snacks, and juice, Ian would be able to make it through the entire service.

I was wrong.

I guess when you turn 2 years old you get a better grasp on the concept of time, because at the time we would be getting out of church at home, Ian looked up and realized that this service was only a little more than halfway done.
Always a man of action, Ian decided he would take the initiative to bring the service to a close by yelling (and I do mean yelling) "DONE! ALL DONE!"

As the eyes of those nearby began to look my way, I quickly covered Ian's mouth, whispered in his ear long enough so the people close to us would think I was the type of parent that knew how to keep her kid in check (ha!), and then slowly uncovered his mouth. I guess whatever I said worked, although he did feel the need to belt out one final "DONE!" before he finally quieted down.

***Story 2***

DISCLAIMER: This story will make use of the word "poo poo"

That same weekend while at my parents house, I briefly saw an Ian shaped blur run past me and into the living room. The smell that followed said blur however, was uh -how shall I say this- not so fresh.

Me: (shouting from the guest room) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (shouting back) No
Me: (getting up and walking into the living room giving my very best stern Momma face) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (wide eyed) Nooooo
Me: (checking the foul smelling diaper) Ian you did poo poo. You didn't tell me the truth. If I ask you "Did you poo poo?" and you did, you need to answer yes. Do you understand?
Ian: Yes
Me: (giving myself an imaginary pat on the back for successfully explaining truthfulness to my obviously brilliant kid) So, Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: No

***Story 3***

It's Monday morning and I hear Ian babbling to himself in bed. I head into his room to get him up and going.
"Good morning Pooh. Are you ready to get up?" Ian, stands up in his crib obviously mulling over the question, then he grabs his favorite blanket, squats back down in the bed, and replies "No".
Fair enough, I think to myself. I like to stay in the bed late on Monday mornings too. I turn my back to the kiddo to begin looking through his dresser for clothes for the day, when I realize the shirt I'm looking for is in the closet. When I turn back around I see that Ian has changed his mind and is ready to get out of bed. In fact, he's thrown his leg over the top bar of the crib and is attempting to climb out. Caught off guard, the only reaction I can muster is a sigh combined with an "Oh Lord". While I was content to let him hit the floor and learn his lesson, Ian looked down, and then realized, apparently, this wasn't the brightest idea. He then looked back up at me and replied "Oh Lord".

Finding God in the Small Stuff

This morning the song Heaven, by Mary Mary, was stuck in my head and I wanted to find my copy of the self-entitled CD so I could listen to it in the car. The only problem was I knew it was buried in the huge stash of CDs next to our player.
Determined to find it as quickly as possible, I grabbed a stack of about 30 or so CDs and began to flip through looking for it.

Nope, not there.

I hurriedly grabbed a second set containing quite a few more discs and began to look through them. I didn't get very far before several began slipping out of my hand. I quickly readjusted them, but then another section began to slip. Once I got handle on the second section of rogue discs, yet another section began to fall. This happened one more time before my clumsiness finally got the best of me and I dropped all of the CDs.

*SIGH*

I bent down to pick everything up, and there in the middle of the mess was the Mary Mary CD! As I set it aside and continued to gather everything together, I was surprised at how quickly I picked the CDs up. It took less time than I thought it would, and it was certainly faster than it would have taken me to flip through the stack, find the CD I wanted, and then put them away.

It was right then, that I realized that this little scenario was a typical example of my relationship with God.

I will set a goal, begin to take logical steps to meet that goal, and if things look like they are about to turn into a huge mess, or more accurately, are not going how I think they should be, I do everything within my power to control it, or to "fix" it. Today's sequence of events reminded me that what appears outwardly as chaos could actually be God's provision of my heart's desire.