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That’s what life feels like for me lately. It seems I should be a little further along sometimes, having gotten my “edumacation”, being married for nearly 5 years, a mommy for 2+pregnancy, working, bla bla bla- those should surely qualify me for a self-titled “intermediate”, right? Instead I feel in so many ways as though life has just begun. As though my lungs are crushing with the weight of my first breath of oxygen: I know nothing.

Yep, the lovely twenties, full blown in effect.

One of my many humble philosophies on life is sort of a “mind over matter” one- with regards to vices, depression, stress, so forth. Though I must have a zillion crutches that I don’t even think about or consider them as such, the ones I recognize I typically do away with rather quickly. Example- if I notice I’m using wine to “relax” too often, I’ll begin to formulate a different way to relax that is healthier, no side effects, etc etc. Aromatherapy, massage, yoga, whatever. I even considered recently the homeopathic medicinal value of herbs such as St. John’s Wort or Kava, though in the end even those had side effects I’d rather not deal with, not to mention that you cannot be on them while pregnant or nursing and that chapter of my life isn’t exactly over yet, so might as well not even get started on the treatment.

Side note: I recently read an article in a parenting e-zine where the writer and mother of the story confessed that she turned her weekend vice of smoking a little weed while her son is not around into a “one hitter” commonality whenever she needed to “get through the day” with her son. I wanted to scream at such stupidity, especially as nearly every single comment (there were over 80) to the on-line article went back and forth between arguing about the legality of pot or the irresponsibility of the mom while she is the care-giver for a young child, etc etc. While all those arguments are interesting, I felt like they really missed the point. Why not get to the deeper issue (IMHO) and learn to deal with your stress and anxiety as a mother without “mother’s little helpers” at all? Perhaps such levels of annoyance indicate a major change needs to happen, as in, more sleep, better diet, a little exercising, prayer (yikes, touchy subject!) or even counseling. I also feel, (though this opinion might get me stoned), that too many (esp mothers) turn quickly to the latest prescription drug for helping them cope BEFORE giving the aforementioned suggestions a hearty attempt. (Okay, that’s all I’ll say now about my extreme skepticism of allopathic medicine! Another day, another post)

As for me, I “confess” that I can fall into mild feelings of lethargy, depression, anxiety or what have you, certain circumstances trigger it more than others of course. I can tell when I want to “hide” that the cloud is over me. Luckily, it rarely effects my ability to fulfill responsibilities, although it does make doing them more difficult. Anyhow, this all to say that I am sort of in one of these periods lately and have the foreboding feeling that it hasn’t even completely run its course yet (it’s only the beginning!)- with upcoming cold, sunless, rainy days of Portland’s winter ahead, the holidays without friends and family around, hubby working double shifts nearly every day, and my only “hey, let’s go chill” friend starting a full-time job and having her mom come live with her, all of this seems to be indicators to me lately that I’ve got to catch this mood at the beginning and prepare for the “dark night of the soul” that could be quite lonely if I don’t proceed carefully.

This post has taken a slight detour from its original “I might finally know that I don’t know anything” but trust me, its all related!

So I’m open to anything, bar substance abuse, traditional Western medicine, lol, and perhaps some others things I haven’t thought of, to help me trudge along this phase with a deeply joyful heart. I have absolute assurance that this won’t happen without a much greater awareness of the daily conversation God is having with me, and perhaps I could even try responding more often in prayer instead of avoidance. From there, I’ve got to start reading some good books, doing my yoga again, and making sure my oil burner is always going with lavender, chamomile, and clary sage. Another tip: avoid too much refined sugars, alcohol and caffeine (yes, even here at “mama NEED java” we can all agree on the “too much of a good thing” factor )

If any one else can relate to what I’ve just shared, here’s a toast to your journey onward. To the other’s, I apologize for wasting your time on a very Vivian-centered subject (esp since my last post was one too!) and promise to upload a great movie tomorrow of Ethan singing songs.

What does that even mean?

I just got back from another night of “one of THOSE nights” for me, one where I nervously talked enough to safely say I dominated the conversation and spilled all for the sake of being “authentic”. When I come back from those nights, when I am just spent and soiled and bewildered as my “self” returns to me, I feel like I can sympathize with the Saints of old that would chastise themselves or whip their own bodies or something. I’ve got the dueling cavaliers on either shoulder the entire evening, telling me what to say, what not to say- made particularly nervous and unlike me by any one in the group being extra quiet. That’s weird for me too because I seem to feel like the big sister who has to make friends for the sake of those who go unheard, like if I just share something else and keep the conversation going then eventually the egg will crack and every one in the group will relax and be themselves too- although I am the last thing from relaxed or myself at the moment, the only difference between me and them being that I can’t shut my f-ing mouth. And when the group dynamic can go on without me and every one is laughing and carrying on their own conversation, I very rarely wish to join the topics because I love the fact that I can just sit back and watch it happen and NOT have to share my example or experience of whatever particular subject happens to be on the table.

BLEH!

I thought the self-wandering, identity seeking phase ended with puberty, but clearly my insecurities are fresh and bare for all to see, mostly ME.

I recently watched Ms. Beatrix Potter, and there was one point in there where she is being told about her foolish decision to purchase a farm and, (after living under an insufferable social climbing mother, losing her (unapproved of) first love to death, and simultaneously turning her “little stories and paintings” into a best selling children’s book), she tells the man that she is “no longer in the habit of being lectured to”. Something in me was like “Yeah!” when she said that; I cheered her on in my heart because I absolutely love those characters at last embracing being okay in their own skin, having no explanation to give to any one about what they do with their time, money, love, faith, etc etc etc. I have very few balls when it comes to stuff like that. I don’t want to disappoint people, in general I want people to be comfortable and happy and possibly even like me, but at the same time I don’t compromise “being myself” (whatever that means) when I’m around them anymore, not very much anyway.

It used to be that one friend knew me as a proper, faithful lady and another knew me as a fiery, talkative eccentric (which made for an awkward time when the two met and we hung out as a threesome- who to be, who to be?) And I can remember this time last year making it my goal that this facade would end. Welcoming myself into the blog-osphere was good practice- which person would I present to the masses- family, friends, in-laws, strangers, co-workers, church peers- they would all have access to this little URL and would all have to get used to one and only one Vivian- some days completely safe and other days a crazy rant of a post- and I would similarily have to allow it to happen- even force it to happen, for the sake of being consistent. That means I can’t hang out with a family member and tell them, “oh yeah, those crazy mom’s checkin their kids toys for lead paint!” because I AM that mom and I already blogged about it. See what I mean? Every one gets the same story- they begin to get used to it OR stop getting to know me if they so choose, but in the end I have no apologies or explinations or back-peddling. What you see/read is what you get.

Yep, so my “home community” has this link and people I’m trying to get to know and would prefer they come to like me can read all about my insanity right here and that’s that. My husband, come to find out, passes it along to members of his family I’ve never even met, (like, can’t he just give them our FLICKR account if they want photo’s of Lil’ E??? I mean, really, this is my PERSONAL weblog) but then I’m faced with the self-coaxing again: okay, I will make the conscious decision to not adjust what I’m thinking/feeling at the moment to cater to one particular audience (as if that many people even read my blog! My stats say about 350 average it daily, and I’m thinking most of that’s bogus or my own navigating to approve comments, lol!) but you get the drift. It’s a great tool if you choose to be indeed “personal” with it.

Larry Crab, in his genius book Inside Out, has helped me with this a lot too, and so armed with this agenda of being authentic, non-private, communal, imperfect christian I do NOT behave differently around my husband, (ie. bat my eyes, soften my voice, hold his hand, in front of a group of people when that is NOT how we act alone. I treat him nearly exactly the same, except of course that at home I’m more prone to raising my voice ) and I try very hard not to behave differently as a parent. I find that usually people are relieved to hear my stories of horror at my own failings as a mother and wife, that some one like me has allowed themselves to be known and they no longer have to wonder about what skeletons are in my closet, or worse, whether they are all alone with theirs.

The more I get to know people, it is so so so true that every one is just as nuts as I am. I mean, the people I would have hands down said were pretty “together” have been the ones caught in the worst addictions, the ones who deal with very little of their own childhood hurts or marital problems, they have the biggest melt downs and live a life that is false so it builds up and builds up and then they freak out in rage. They want people to know so little about them that no one can ever truly “get in” and when they do, it is so shocking what they see (because such a different person was presented to them all along!) that they don’t want to revisit the friendship again.

Didn’t Christ teach a different way of being? Was he worried what people would think when he washed feet, touched lepers, called Pharisees a “broad of snakes!”, overturned TEMPLE tables, or stood up for a woman (presumably naked) caught “in the very act of adultery”? Were the early Christians, who met in backyards and sang songs together and shared everything and sold all their possessions- were they particularly shy about “airing dirty laundry”- for crying out loud they were likely sharing the clothes off their back, not to mention all of their sins and struggles laid bare. The culture of the first followers of Christ did not leave room for pretension or saving face regarding financial means, marital happiness, parental perfection or spiritual enlightenment. It was all hangin out there, ugly and gross, so they could together join hands and GROW.

Being me: I have no flippin clue what that means sometimes. Is the me I think I am just a persona too, am I just the product of my environment or the predestined personality of the Creator, or the physiological make up of a bunch of random DNA molecules or where the stars happened to align at the moment I was born? Some of this is fairly far fetched, of course, but personality theorists have gone even further in their guessing!

My thought is that I’ll start to figure it out after the me I present to others gets embarrassing, humiliating, but in the end and as I already stated: consistent. And that, at least, I think I’m starting to have going for me.

On a completely other angle, I AM aware that my limited knowledge and experience makes me no expert, even on myself, and that many wiser souls than I might conclude that the more self-forgetful, ie. self-LESS or NOT CONSCIOUS of oneself we are, the more we will actually be “ourselves”.

In the meantime, I admit that I really envy the fly on the wall, wishing I could revert back to the timid Vivian I once was, whose face turned red when eyes were on me so I never contributed a thing when not completely comfortable with those I was with. But its sort of like Egypt- once you have grown beyond that point, you’ve got bigger demons to deal with and more of that “much is given” to wrestle with. Oh my gosh, I’m going to quickly end this post before I start saying something that sounds way too much like Peter, a.k.a. “Spiderman”’s Uncle: “With great power comes great responsibility”.

Crap, too late.

I haven’t written in a few days, which isn’t all that typical of me lately, because of reasons I don’t even know how to pin down. I’ve been feeling as though I’m floating lately, not really here all the time. I don’t think I’m unhappy or anything, just sort of bored, tired, lethargic. I don’t know. I can take on things sometimes and try to shoulder it harder or longer than I should and I don’t stop and ask myself WTF, you know? I don’t even think I’m talking about anything in particular.

Perhaps I need more close friends and family here, of course that could be. I’m also feeling a little discontent, wanting to stop freakin worrying about money and never having enough to do or purchase the things I want, which sounds SO lame, I know. But seriously, I’m damn tired of being broke and trying so begrudgingly to be frugal. It’s a pain in the rear. You got your degrees, you got your jobs, congratulations- now you have to pay off all your debt. After that, you can work on saving for college and retirement, or paying off your mortgage if you’re lucky enough to have a home to truly call your own, which it turns out could be incredibly overrated.

And I’ve been sad lately at things I don’t think should make me quite so sad. I let Lil’ E stay up way too late last night and felt like the worst parent on the planet. I found out a close friend who I haven’t been able to really talk to in months is off to a bible college of sorts in the bahamas and I feel so bad that I knew nothing of this and all the different directions every one goes in life. Sometimes I think connections are so awesome. You go for a walk to kill time and end up meeting some one a few blocks down who is trained in landscape architecture and has awesome tips and encouragement about your organic garden. You plan for the right pet and meet a breeder who is a talkative, interesting, informative home-schooling mom, (and has the perfect pet for our family). So in these moments I want to get on this blog or remark to some one in person about how incredibly delightful these connections are- how two people end up meeting or effecting each other’s lives in a way that seems just too strange to not be Orchestrated.

Other times its connections that I mourn - one’s that are falling apart from distance and lack of cultivation. Sometimes I mourn one’s that are just fine, because its terrible events that bring two people together, like earlier this week when Lil’ E and I were walking to the park and saw a cat dying on the sidewalk. With the joint effort of myself and the mailman, we managed to read the ID tag and call the number to identify the pet’s owner’s, who it turns out had just moved in across the street from where the cat lay after being, apparently, hit by a car. It was difficult for me particularly because Lil’ E didn’t get it and kept meowing at the cat and telling me it had a boo boo. When it took its last breath, Lil’ E told me the kitty cat was tired and was going to sleep. And here in this event I connected with the mail man, as we hunched over a bloody feline corpse, because I was grateful some one else cared, grateful he had a cell phone, grateful he was another freakin adult to balance my feelings of sorrow over my child’s first death experience and make me aware of my own sensibilities.

This week I’ve looked a little more at my myspace friends while I’m bored and waiting for Hubby to get back from his 7am-10:30pm work schedule. I don’t know why, but I’m always so surprised, even disturbed, by the fact that so many old and even current friends are doing such vastly different things than I. I get this snapshot, this weird MySpace thing that it is, of their “profile” and can see how they want to be perceived- what they want people to know about them. Are they edgy? Witty? Do they have lots of friends and comments, do they list a slue of fascinating books or movies in their interests? Sure we all do it, right? Without even thinking much about it, we figure out fairly quickly, though it might change as often as we change our shoes, who we want to be to the rest of the world. And in the end, the things I most want to tell people about myself but don’t because it seems so ridiculous, is that I really, really liked reading a book about pumpkins to my son today. I wonder if a lot of stay-at-home moms feel this way, like the highlight of their day was curbing a temper tantrum so they could enjoy a MUG (”for here!”) of java at a coffee shop fairly uninterrupted- I mean this is like a humongous personal feat, people! But when you look around and see other adults in the world DO NOT CARE about whether or not you got your toddler to eat zucchini, it can feel as though the entire ball of earth is a black hole that has just swallowed you up because you are completely, eerily, alone. Like, “wow, this is kinda crazy… what am I living my life for if these are my daily highlights? where is my life going? who am I? Is any one else here? Hello?” (echoes ensue, yada yada yada.)

This is only one small piece of the puzzle as I uncover this strangely not-here-but-here mood I’ve been in, hidden behind a nice tired smile and way too much talking.

Stop wandering into basements and opening unlabeled beer bottles… especially in a group gathering of desperately needed potential friendships…

(only those at the Home Community gathering at Eric and Debbie’s last night would get this, I know, but it just couldn’t go unmentioned on my blog.)

Full story provided upon request.

Maybe.

Depending on whether or not I’m over my mortification yet.

Edit: Ok, two requests in a few hours, I guess I have to dish…

Last night the home community met at Eric and Debbie’s, (yes, same new friend Eric I mentioned took us out to dinner last week!) where they dined us with rosemary chicken and salad and so on. I had been getting thirsty and noticed every one had cups of beer so I asked Debbie, from the sink, where I could find a beer. I then wandered down to the basement she mentioned to poke around in the fridge (I mean, who has beer on tap?!) Already scatter-brained after a long day of personal ups and downs, all I recall is seeing a few different beer bottles and some along the fridge door that were, it seemed to me, generic brown bottles with Widmer caps. I didn’t think about the fact that there was no label. I didn’t grow up around beer and really had my first beer maybe in the last year, so I’m definitely a newbie at this stuff. (Notice me shaping my hand into an “L” and placing it on my forehead?) I popped the cap and went back upstairs to join every one on the patio. I hadn’t taken my first sip when poor Eric’s face dropped… turns out the “generic beer” I had opened was a “mead” he had made himself (he’s a really smart bio chemist type guy!) from honey in the late 90’s and was saving his last few bottles for a “special occassion“). I’m sorry, but despite what any one says, he was definitely the most bummed I’d seen some one in a loooong time. And I was SO embarrassed! Jeremy and Bryan come in to check out the “scene” as we made our way into the kitchen (for some reason or another?) and luckily distracted Eric with questions about his mead and eventually a few glasses were poured of this stuff- which every one was stoked about because it was delicious. In the end, Eric SAYS he’s over it and glad every one enjoyed it so much- (he’s even coming over this Thursday to watch Grindhouse at our place) BUT I will NEVER live this one down. Just check out the following conversations that have circulated in the Home Community e-mail list today:

“Thanks everyone for coming over to our place for HC. I hope everyone
enjoyed the food and brews…. I’m stoked that everyone enjoyed my
mead. I have not opened one of those in a couple of years. I just found a book floating around here at the brewery: “Mad about Mead!”…If anyone would like to check it out, let me know. -Eric ”

“Ahhh yes, the infamous mead. At least now there is a Home Community “good ol days” memory that I am a part of- one of those that go down in history like the first grader who accidentally squished the classroom hamster… (no, analogy NOT drawn from personal experience…) The mead WAS wonderful- who wudda thunk it, as I was reaching for a generic widmer beer I was actually opening a home made mead made of fermented honey that has been saved for over a decade… leave it to me, I tell ya. -Viv”

“Well, as I told Eric, I’m glad I got to try it! Thanks Eric, and next time we’ll hold a bring-your-favorite-beverage-to-share night . . . Of course now, Vivian, we are all going to have some convoluted memory, like ‘remember the time Vivian drank too much mead and squished Debbie and Eric’s hamster?’ -Laura”

“Oh no! I’m not a hamster killer, I promise… gosh, it doesn’t help that I planned on getting a hamster for Ethan later this week- now you will all have dibbs on how long it will be before I kill it. Sheesh… - Viv”

“$5 she has an unfortunate hampster (I mean ‘lost in the garden’) event before next monday! Sure you thought you grabbed the shavings and took them to the compost!! Sure! I’ll believe ya’ -Jeremy”

“(Darn, now I have to think of another evil hamster killing plot….) -Viv”

Tonight I joined our home community leader to a Women in Portland Publishing “Trivia Night”, knowing full well that trivia’s “not my bag” … baby … yeah.

Am I the only one who DOES NOT KNOW the 4 letters that make up DNA codes, or the 7 deadly sins, or the 5 permanent UN countries, or for crying out loud, the 7 sins or something of the dark professor-what-nots at Hogwarts in the Harry Potter series. Like, hello? Average American girl schooled in FLORIDA raise your hand- OH, that’s right, that’s ME. All that hard earned tuition dollars, (insert flush sound here.)

Makes me think to put a bug in some one’s ear within Wiley, my lovely employer, that we need to add another book to the Dummies series- hence the title of this post. I know I’d buy it.

Acme, the trivia night venue, was a bit of a dive. But the beer was good (had Young’s, double chocolate!). My cheese quesadilla went to the wrong table two times, and after 45 minutes and two trips to the bar again asking about it, at last it arrives - a nice BEAN quesadilla. I tried to explain to the waiter all friendly-bubbly-Vivian-like and he gave me a blank stare and said, “Do you want us to remake it without the beans?” Um, no, sure, I’ll take the damn beans- which, I’m happy to report turned out to be WORTH all the fuss (either because it was that tasty or I was THAT hungry.)

So this makes two week nights in a row that I’ve gone out past dark! Can I officially call myself a night-lifer? HA! I don’t think it counts when I nullify my out-going excursions by reading “Children at Play” until I fall asleep!

Speaking of which, pray for me; I’m going through one of those work vs. mommy crisis, one tailored especially for the work at home mom who doesn’t want her child raised by Dora the Explorer. (In a similar note, I’ve been meaning to publish a post I started titled, “Bye Bye Pow Pow.” Yep, we’re choosing to forgo the literal interpretation of “spare the rod” now, big news for those of you who heard the words, “pow pow” warned from my lips a gazillion times a day!)

Adios for now…

I’ve been getting this “feeling” lately that others get a bit ticked off if I act too enthusiastic about Portland. Like, yeah yeah but my city is really awesome too, bla bla bla. Newsflash- me. no. care. I lu-huv P’town and am completely convinced that, although this is not a friggin competition, its the best city in the nation, hands down. Sucka!

Okay, enough of that, woah, where did THAT come from? sheesh.

Here’s a little bit of this rockin’ city’s hiking trail about 15 minutes from us, called Forest Park, the NATION’S most premier URBAN PARK (tee hee).Together with our Home Community, we only walked a bit of the Lief Erickson Trail before heading back, what with toting two toddlers in the group. Most memoriable factor: picking wild blackberries!

Afterwards, very nice new friend Eric treated us to dinner at Widmer’s Gausthaus, the state’s largest local brewery. Mmmm, good.

See for yourself:

It has been quite a few Wednesday’s since I blogged about LOST, my favorite TV show ever. As I last reported, LOST will be playing a season of late winter-late spring, no fall whatsoever, making us fans go without for more than half a year! Lost night has been a tradition for me since Lil E’s birth just about. I rarely watched TV before that, not nearly enough to have a “show” to call my own, because I was a full-time student and working all the time. After having Lil E, my sister and brother-in-law moved in next door and we all decided to rent some shows on dvd while we spent a lazy few summer weeks recovering from babies, weddings, moves, etc. It took DISC ONE of Season One and I was done, hook line and sinker, whatever you want to call it. I especially got a kick out of the mystery, the puzzle, the questions, the Others, the Smoke Monster, so on. It’s like sci fi for the 21st century.

Though not every show since then has been stellar, I keep watching and sure enough, the season ends and I’m impressed. I’ve heard ratings going down but so long as they didn’t cancel the show, I could care less. I think a lot of people didn’t want to keep guessing, didn’t appreciate the sci fi so much. Who knows, but the characters, writing, everything is just awesome. I’ve gotten into lots of shows since then at one time or another, especially trying to wind down after putting Lil’ E to bed. Lost still entertains, whether I’m on the message boards searching for clues I missed, or simply a Wed. night fan. I haven’t followed the underground, die-hard fanatic circle for awhile, so I am probably late in reporting the Lost video game (Hubby, the semi-avid gamer pointed out), set for sale early next year. I wish it were strategically ready now, so that fans could play the game while we wait for Season 4. But, oh well, it just means I’ll have time to find some Lostie friends in PDX who can join us for appetizers and LOST on Wednesdays, (the tradition started back in Lakeland, with R&R and NannyGirl/Husband, joined later by the Auel’s.) I really miss those evenings!

So here’s the trailer for the game, and in the meantime I will do my very best to get the latest scoop weekly and bring it to you in a nice little bloggy package every Wednesday, as things once were

As if posting an exaggeratedly long post last time wasn’t enough to make you unsubscribe and unbookmark my humble blog, I had the audacity to leave it up for like ever without new content - my bad!

So here’s some real fun news for ya-

This week was all about fixing up the backyard, which was a jungle of sorts; the remnants of a once well cultivated garden of methodically placed flowerbeds and fruit trees and evergreens and veggie beds. The landlords were in town and hired an arborist (Paul Bunyan, if you ask me!) to reduce the trees and even eliminate some. We said goodbye to one of the big cherry trees that grew just a few feet away from our staircase to the front door (we’re on the second floor), as well as the Alder (sp?) that shaded our living room. Though I won’t miss either, personally. The flowers and veggie beds were in need of a bad weeding and de-grassing (do you like my pretty made-up words?) so we spent the bulk of our afternoons hunched over with friendly garden spiders of all varieties giving us Floridians the heeby geebies.

Now, our yard has a “clearing” beyond a large butterfly tree and apple tree that opens up into a mulched circle where we put big cut pieces of the cherry tree in a circle for seats. The larger veg bed is covered in fresh mulch to “heat things up” for this year, but I’ve just laid down some chicken poop fertilizer (charming!) in the smaller one and I’m on the look out for some pumpkin plants that will be okay in a late planting. My goal being a little patch of pumpkin and winter squash, if at all possible.

Anyhow, Hubby also got around to replacing my popped bicycle tire and cleaning the car. We plan to put the car on Craigslist (asap!) and use the bikes, public transportation, and Flexcars only. We got out for a ride this morning and went down Fremont into the Beaumont neighborhood, hitting up A Children’s Place where we found some good discounted books for Lil’ E. Oh, and the joy that THIS place gives me I can never explain.

While out and about, we bumped into the leader of our “Home Community” at church, pulling her daughter in a red wagon down Fremont. After some chit chat she invited us to meet them at the Oregon Brewers Festival, -which is like, … um, duh yes we will go please be our friend please please please (no, not that desperate, or at least apparent!)

After a bus ride to the city center, we spent our afternoon here with several members of our home community. It was a happy buzzed time for most, save the toddler tantrums and the bite mark Lil’ E left on a poor unsuspecting NON-parent member of our group. Parenting stinks sometimes!

As an aside, any one who thinks, as I do, that my entire family could really use t-shirts like this: funding welcomed.

Church-wide kickball tournament today (alll day) was hot and fun and all the things a good kickball tournament should be.

Unfortunately, the “Grass Kickers” (pun intended) kicked a little more grass than a*s today, but our first victory was a last minute “we are the champions” feeling. Too bad we lost the next two games, but every one had a good time so its allll good. In some ways I’m actually glad Hubby’s not an athlete, as the one time he joins a game he comes home smelling like beer and garlic. :O

Check out the pics and video and please ignore my shameless-and-so-not-funny humor: as I said, it was very hot; I was delirious.

Wow, is it really July?

Lil’ E turns two years old this month. I’ve been a mommy for 2 years. Holy cow.

On another note, I wanted to share some photo highlights of the last few weeks:

The Vintage Goodness shoes has a little story to it: I bought those shoes at a resale store down the road, Rerun, for 5 bucks. A few weeks later, I was shopping at a larger resale store on Hawthorne called Vintage House, and the shoes, exact same but slightly less wear, were behind a glass case and on sale for $69!!! They pulled them out for me, as they came with a box, and these shoes were made in like 1974 or something. The bargain shopping section of my heart was very proud!

Other than this, work has kept me pretty busy this week so I’ve not read much of my reading list yet, just a few chapters of A Hundred Years of Solitute. Vehrdey en-terrr-esteeeng!

This week we start working on the top stairs unit of the old house we are living in. It was built in like the 20’s no doubt, and has since been split so that each floor is its own apartment. The family that we moved with has moved into the downstairs unit and we have been staying in the studio/office in the backyard for the last two months, sharing a bathroom and kitchen, etc with the other family. For a list of hilarious inside jokes (I think?) about how this is all going, check out Chris A.’s experimental site, “Sometimes Friends Fight“.
I feel very fortunate that our landlords are into sustainability and green building. They have encouraged us to look for low VOC paints for the walls, remnants of wool carpeting for the bedrooms, and bamboo wood floors for the living and dining rooms. I’m so excited!!!

Church today was interesting, I even thought I might need to blog sometime about it… maybe call the post, “The Inerrant Word of God”. I’ll let you use your imagination at this point. It will probably be far more interesting than my actual thoughts!

Thanks, Eddie, for your encouragement about reading all those books! See- you’re holding me accountable, I love it!