Foto Friday

Friday, my dad and I rented a jackhammer to take down the basketball post about which our HOA has sent 5 letters. Count them - one, two, three, four, five.

Daniel helped (by sitting in my car and eating goldfish).

Then he made his own jackhammer out of a USB cable and a Little Tykes screwdriver.

Daddy brought home something shiny for Mama.

Mama cried. The end.

Hawaii

I was recently talking with a good friend about our respective honeymoons in Hawaii and something occurred to me. Hawaii? It gets in your bones. Once you've stepped off of the plane and into the trade winds, something in your soul changes.

It's been nearly 6 years since Doug and I tied the knot on the little island of Kauai and I can still smell the plumeria. I can close my eyes and go directly to a little grass hut. In that hut, there's a girl wearing long skirts and a bandana. She's holding a ukulele, but she isn't playing it. Her eyes are closed and she's singing the most beautiful rendition of Ave Maria I've ever heard. Doug and I are sitting at a tiny table for two. We're under the stars and have been married for approximately 12 hours. I'm eating a fish sandwich and enjoying a beer. We'll soon head for our condo and fall asleep watching Braveheart.

I'm sure that most people have the unique experience of having their wedding day "burned" into their brains. Me? I have the unique experience of having an entire 10 days of my destination wedding latched onto my soul. I long to go back. I long to walk on the beach where Doug and I said, "I do." I yearn for that tiny slice of perfection, even if most of the perfection has been washed into the sea by the Pacific waves and remains mostly in my head. I have dreams about macadamia nut pancakes and pineapple syrup. I have to wonder if Mai Tais taste better in Hawaii than they do in Texas.

Something about Hawaii calls to me (and to everyone else I know who has been there). There's something majestic about it. Something ancient and pure and. . . perfect. Something other than the eight-hour flight asks to be a part of my life again and I listen. Some day, we'll go back. But until then, we are so very blessed to have such vivid memories of a beautiful, wondrous, sacred place. Until we manage to make it back, I'll just surround myself with plumeria-scented candles, photos of Birds of Paradise, and sarongs and wait patiently. Aloha and mahola, Hawaii. It was nice to meet you.

Not Me! Monday! Episode 3

Oh. Dear. God. This has literally been the shittiest day of my entire life. It was not me who spent Daniel's entire nap scrubbing dog poop out of my carpet. One more reason to hate carpet and one more reason to start locking the dogs in the kitchen when I leave the house. It was not me who had to fish my child and his poop out of the bathtub tonight. It was not me who swore that I would be showering with bleach and a Brillo pad tonight.

It was not me who finished my blog last Monday only to sit down in the backyard and cry for another hour. It was not me who claimed that our calendar was wrong and declared that May 15 would be Mother's Day at the Carey household. It was not me who woke up to homemade waffles yesterday morning. And it was not me who spent 3 hours digging in the dirt while Doug and Daniel detailed my car. Nor was it me who burst into tears (again) this morning when Doug revealed my "real" Mother's Day gift to me. He's having a ring made for me. Word? It's going to be the complement to my wedding ring (which is also my engagement ring) and I can't wait to see it. He designed it and the jeweler is working on it now. So it won't be me who drops in on the jeweler tomorrow to have my wedding band cleaned and to have my finger measured for a new ring. Sweet!

Ugh. It is also not me who is getting ready to attack the carpet with more carpet cleaner nor is it me who will be lighting yet another candle before joining the Brillo pad and bleach in the shower.

Seriously? Ugh.

I went and had my hair trimmed today. Ugh. I feel like it's SO much longer than this:
















But I guess it is some better than this:
















Oh wait! Now that I see them together, I realize that it HAS grown! A lot! It's just not nearly as long as it seems. That's probably because summer is upon us, it's hot, and it's touching me. I did learn today, though, that it's ok to use a ponytail holder. I thought they all broke your hair. Nope! Just the ones with metal involved. You learn something new every day.

Happy growing!

Hearsay

Little girl (age 4) - Daddy? What did Coco (recently deceased family cat) die of?

Daddy (CFO of major electrical contractor) - Coco died of cancer.

Little girl (thoughtfully) - Cancer like Mimi died from?

Daddy - Yeah. Kind of like that.

Little girl - Huh. I didn't know cats could smoke.

Not Me! Monday! Episode 2

Literally, this was not my first Mother's Day. It was technically my third as we celebrated the first one before Daniel was born in anticipation of Mother's Days to come. It was alright. Well, let's face it. It was pretty terrible. My usually really-good-about-stuff-like-this husband announced to me at 4:58 on Saturday night that he "figure(d) he better get something for (his) mother for Mother's Day." I calmly informed him that I already had her a card from Daniel, that we were buying breakfast in the morning, and that he had approximately 4 hours to figure something out for this mother before he was in trouble.

It was not me who spent the entire day Sunday waiting and hoping that my husband would spring a surprise Mother's Day treat and/or announcement on me, e.g., "I'm sending you to the spa next weekend," or, "Here's your card (which happens to include a gift card to your favorite nail salon)," or, "I'm taking you out for sushi tonight." It was not me who announced at dinner that no, I wasn't mad (literally) because I understood that he had been busy with finals, preparing for his presentation, and anticipating his mother's visit. It was not me who put on a happy face and tried really hard to convince myself that all of these things were true (which they are) AND that I was really ok with it. I guess in all actuality, yesterday wasn't so bad. It was today that really got me.

Today, it was most certainly not me who spent the entire day fighting back tears to the point of a severe headache. It was not me who kindly and sincerely responded to Mother's Day e-cards, e-mails, and texts through blurred, teary vision. It was not me who went to my best friend's house and cried while sitting in her glider because Mother's Day had gone by without my husband recognizing me in any way, shape, or form. It was not me who cried through "The Wheels on the Bus" as I drove home from my best friend's house.

I'm not usually the kind of girl to get worked up over stuff like this. For whatever reason, it really, really stung this time. When Doug finally got home, it was not me who cried and cried and cried trying to explain to him why I needed him to recognize me yesterday. It was not me who finally came to the conclusion that no matter what he did or said, I was still going to be hurt.

And last but not least, it was certainly not me who poured my heart out in this blog only to disable the comments. It's one thing to cry to the world, but to hear them cry back is another altogether. So thanks for reading and even though I didn't give you a choice, thanks for not commenting.

Ode to the Cottonwood

Reaching to the sky
Majestic. Swaying. Annoying.
Leaves drop to cover the ground
Through endless raking
Back-breaking and painful.
Seeds hang from your bales
Christmas garland; childhood memories.
Explosion of cotton. Explosion of sinus hell.
Drainage. Sniffing. Tearing at my eyes.
Sneeze. Wheeze. PLEASE!
Anxiously awaiting the end of Spring --
Summer scorch me, please.
I long to enjoy your shade again.

Foto Friday

Boardwalk fun. Late night sprinklers. Happy baby and happy puppy. Life is good!

Not Me! Monday! Episode 1

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.



It was NOT ME who called an a/c repair man out to "fix" the a/c that wouldn't cool and wound up paying him to pick cottonwood fluff out of the a/c unit. It was certainly NOT ME who seriously considered sending the $85 bill to the neighbors who play host to the abominable beast of a tree. It was NOT ME who made the same neighbor's child remove himself from my garage while playing hide and seek with his brother. It was NOT ME who considered that the neighbor kid may amputate a digit while hiding behind my treadmill.

It was NOT ME who ran rampant through the house during nap time, straightening and otherwise de-cluttering in anticipation of the fast-approaching visit from my mother-in-law and her beau (who we have recently decided to just call "G"). It was NOT ME who spent nearly 20 minutes alphabetizing the DVDs in the guest room. It was NOT ME who nearly danced with delight when I realized that a crib AND a queen-sized bed could fit into the guest room (and future nursery). It was NOT ME who nearly cried, remembering nursing Daniel in that guest bed so many moons ago (by many moons, I mean almost 2 years as the bed went into storage when he was 11 weeks old).

If you saw anyone who resembled me doing any of these things, you are a stalker and deserve what you get! If you didn't see me do these things, it's because it was NOT ME.

Warning

In an effort to blog more often, I think I'm going to start doing those little trendy daily posts. You know the ones. Foto Friday? Not Me Monday? Works for Me Wednesday? I haven't decided which of these I'll be tormenting you with, but I seem to find fewer and fewer opportunities to blog. I have several in mind that I need to draft and post, but I just can't seem to find the time between bed times, ear infections, allergies, etc. Hopefully these catchy little blog tags will help me throw something together at least once a week.

In the meantime, I'll just remind myself that yes, I do have to write the blog about Daniel being a full-contact sport. I do have pesky cottonwood allergies to complain about (thus outlining my plot to rid LC, TX of the darned trees that cause them). I do have many things to look forward to (or dread, depending on how things go). And I will some day make time to blog about these things.

Until then, a smooth bed time and a particularly nasty flare-up of allergies (and therefore a likely pending ear infection and consequent late-night waking) have inspired me to go to bed early. Until next week, good night stars. Good night air. Good night bloggers everywhere.