Wednesday, January 31, 2007

What is it?

I love my Mom. Mom and I have a knack for talking about anything and everything. If I’m going shopping, I would rather call my Mom to go with me than anyone else. If I see some great idea on HGTV, I want to talk to my Mom about it. If I try a fantastic new recipe, I want to talk to my Mom about it. If I have a problem or want sympathy, I want to talk to my Mom about it. If I want to discuss my work or business…give me my Dad any day!

My field is Information Technology (geek speak for computer nerd). The other day, I emailed my Mom and was describing a potential job. I described the job as Managing I.T. for a company. I talked to Mom later that night on the phone. She asked me, “Exactly what would you be managing?” I said, “What do you mean?” She said, “Well, in your email, you just said that if you took this job, you’d be managing it. What is it?”

“Uh, Mom, that’s I.T., not it.”

“Oh.” Awkward pause… “Would you like to talk to your Dad?”

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Epitaph

I was baking chocolate chip cookies with my son last night. Well, actually there was a little baking going on and a lot of dough eating going on. So this dough eating got me thinking (which is always a little dangerous) and this is the conclusion I came to...

IF I should ever die of salmonella poisoning, and IF that poisoning was a result of eating raw eggs, and IF it was because the raw eggs were in unbaked cookie dough that I had been eating, then I want my headstone to simply say, "She Died Happy".

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Have you seen my mind...

...I really miss it! I don't know what it is lately. I enter a room and can't remember why I went there, I open Internet Explorer because I intend to browse to a website and can't remember what site I was going to look at, and here's the kicker, I have recently been calling my son by the dog's name. Not good. I expected these things to happen to me quite a lot later in life. Not now. Not at thirty-something. (Did you really think I'd say my age? Okay, okay...it's 35, but that's not old, right?)

Anyway, a major area of my life that suffers because of this constant forgetfulness is my blogging. Let me explain...I wake up in the morning. (That's a good thing). My mind is fresh. I'm well rested (usually, unless a certain 5 year old has decided to crawl into bed at 1am, taking up as much of the bed as if he were a 6' 8" man weighing 400 pounds...but that's another post altogether). I have a few quiet moments to myself before life really takes over. Here's the thing...in the shower, as I put on my make-up, even as I drive to work, I have these GREAT blog ideas. They're witty, they're clever, they're informational, they're whatever a good blog post is supposed to be. However, by the time I park my car and get in front of my computer, the thoughts have COMPLETELY vanished. Not just that I can't remember the exact words I wanted to use, but I'm talking gone, see ya, adios amigos. And thus, you are left to read posts like this one. My apologies. Blame it on the brain.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

A Mother's Love

It always irks me when, as a person who does computer repair, I'm asked to diagnose or fix a computer and upon further inspection of said computer, it's full of children's games. "Why," I think to myself, "do people let their kids put all these stupid games on their computers...especially when it's a computer designed for business use?" It steams me. It annoys me. It makes me wonder why the games aren't loaded on the family computer in the living room, rather than the business laptop. Tonight, I learned the answer to these and many other questions when my son came in begging to put his Backyardigans game on my computer. (By the way, thanks to my brother and sister-in-law for the fact that we even own a Backyardigans computer game) Anyway, my desktop computer is located in the basement. It's cold down there. It's dark down there. My son won't go down there alone and I had work to do upstairs. Somehow in a temporary loss of sanity, the Backyardigans have wound up on my laptop. I'm totally ashamed. What's worse...I would have made this blog post earlier, but my son was practicing typing his letters, so I had to wait my turn.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

The Culprit


Here is a picture of "the sin that so easily entangles" me....leather, mission furniture.


Sunday, January 14, 2007

Tyranny of the Urgent

A few days ago I was doing some computer work for one of my regular clients. This client happens to be a furniture store, and let me just interrupt myself and say that working in a furniture store is highly dangerous for me. As I walked in, there sat a leather, mission style recliner. Way cool. It had dark comfy leather and wood trim arms that would look fabulous in the corner where we just took the Christmas tree down. So, I began teasing with the salesman (who I know relatively well) that if he will give it to me for such and such a price, I’ll take it. Of course he laughed at my price and we haggled back and forth for awhile, with him ultimately coming back with a price that was pretty darn good for that chair. I wanted it, but knew two things. One, I really couldn’t make a purchase like that without talking to my husband and two, I had no money. (I think my recent pinochle playing has increased my bidding and bluffing skills). Luckily, the sales guy got tied up with someone else and I slipped out when my work was done. But shortly after I left the furniture store, I met up with my husband and began to sing the praises of this “cool-excellent-priced-we-really-NEED-it” treasure that I had found. He agreed with most of my dissertation with the exception of the “we need it” part. I conceded and though I thought about it for the rest of the day, knew it would be an impulsive (to say the least) purchase.

The next day, as I got ready for work, I really had to have a heart-to-heart with God and apologize for my lack of contentment, desire for material possessions, and obsession with any and all mission style furniture. God and I talked it over and I put the whole thing behind me. At 3:30 that afternoon, I came home from work. The chair was in the living room. My husband had snuck out to the furniture store and bought it that morning. What a guy! He earned some huge brownie points with that one. Along with a Mission style, leather recliner, he bought himself quite a while of doing his most annoying habits without me saying much about it. That would have been a bargain at twice the price.

Now, hang in here with me, because I’m ALMOST coming to the point of this whole post. It has been an incredibly busy day for me and all I have wanted all day long is to plop down in that leather chair and have a few minutes to blog. I’ve tried and tried, but anything and everything keeps getting in the way. The minute I would attempt to sit down, something would need done…NOW. Try as I might, I could not manage to get 5 minutes to sit and write until now (10:30 at night…when I should be in bed). So here I am. Settled back in my comfy new chair…ready to blog…But, gee I can’t think of anything to say, so I think I’ll head to bed.

Sunday, January 07, 2007

One

A few days ago my son turned five. Five. I can hardly believe it. It seems like yesterday he and his twin sister were born. And since my daughter’s death one month later, it seems both like a breath and an eternity. When you prepare yourself to have twins, your mind views everything in pairs. We bought two bassinettes, two cribs, two car seats, two baby swings, two of every outfit, two, two, two of everything…and suddenly, before we could really even soak in the complete joy of having our babies, before we could take them home together, before they could even know each other’s presence outside the womb, there was only one. And now that one is turning five, growing up as an only child.

As I watch him blow out his candles and open his presents on his 5th Birthday, I can’t help but wonder what his life would have been as one of two. To have my kids together both blowing out candles and opening presents. For them to have each other as siblings and friends. Together. Two.

I try very hard to not second guess God. If He intended that my son grow up alone, then I must trust that God will tend to his every need, I must believe that God will be his companion and friend when he is alone, and I must, with my whole heart, believe that God has called him to something special in his life. He is an exceptional one. He is a one-of-a-kind one. He is my one.

Saturday, January 06, 2007

Holidays & Blogging Don't Mix

I wholeheartedly agree with statement that “Drinking and Driving Don’t Mix”. But over the past six weeks, I’ve also learned that “Holidays and Blogging Don’t Mix”. Over Christmas and New Years (along with a couple of birthdays, a large church fund-raiser, and an anniversary thrown in) I tried to write on my blog several times. Obviously, that didn’t pan out. I titled this post 4 weeks ago when I realized that amidst Christmas shopping, wrapping, baking, preparing, etc… that I was never going to get to my blog. But, I couldn’t even log in to post a sentence or two. Then I tried, just a day or so before Christmas, to give my humble (and slightly bitter) commentary on the cutesy holiday phrase “Hustle & Bustle”. It gives connotation of someone happily scurrying around to accomplish their Christmas to-do list all the while smiling and humming “Winter Wonderland”. Hustle & bustle, my eye. My hustle and bustle was more like a full on panic attack complete with chest pains, dizzy spells, and a bad case of carpal tunnel caused by last minute online shopping and having to shovel the winter wonderland in my front yard on a daily basis. I decided to scratch that post, as well. I’ve learned my lesson, next year I will not even attempt it. Holidays and Blogging don’t mix. And remember to spread the word, friends don’t let friends blog and do holidays.

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