my so-called life

in the process of decluttering before prince antonio arrives (bene daye's name for her brother...and nothing close to his real name), i have uncovered all of my old journals. mostly, ones from middle and high school; the ones fraught with teenage angst, bitterness and confusion. boy, i thought my world was ending in some of those entries. and over what? well...

1. the fact that jon erik, the hottest, dreamiest and most-coveted boy in high
school (and a senior), wouldn't give me (a freshman) the time of day
2. or that i couldn't get my nose pierced at 14?
3. or that my parents wouldn't let me go see pearl jam two states away...at 15
years old...with other 15 and 16 year olds.
4. or that i was never asked to ANY dance in middle or high school.
5. or that katie and mandy had it out for me for their own ridiculous reasons and
made 7th grade a nightmare.
6. or that i went to a salon to get a "body wave" like alyssa milano and came out
looking like bernadette peters.
7. or that donnie whalberg from NKOTB never wrote me back after i sent him a care
package and i cried for weeks. i just KNEW i would be the one fan he would fall
in love with and see that i loved him for him and not because he was famous.
8. or in highschool when kurt cobain and jerry garcia died and i skipped school with
my friends to "remember" them.
9. or when andrea, nishah, tiffani and i stuffed our sleeping bags, snuck out of her
parents house, met up with some neighborhood boys and went swimming at 3 o'clock
in the morning. but we got caught by her big, scary mom who then called our
parents to come pick us up and get us the $@*# out of her house.
10. or the night i accidentally burned my friends car down to a black frame because
i was irresponsible with a cigarette...okay, when my parents got the phonecall
about this one, my life really was in danger! I BURNED A CAR UP!!! not to
mention andrea's parents, who asked me to replace the car.

it's amazing to me that now i can laugh at every one of these seemingly life-ending moments...with the exception of #9 and #10. they could have been much worse and i would kill my daughter if she snuck out to go swimming with random boys at 3am! demetrius is bewildered by the fact that teenage girls journal as much as they do and that they want to remember everything, good and bad...and then hold onto the journals for twenty years! teenage girls tend to be overly dramatic and i guess it just seems that, at that moment, life as they know it is OVER. i mean, before you're an adult with true grown-up problems, the most catastrophic event in your life may just be that a certain boy doesn't like you or that you can't get your nose pierced and go to a pearl jam concert. though i am incredibly thankful that my life doesn't contain that much drama these days, it's amusing to read my own stories of sweet valley high.

just a minute

ever have one of those days where you start off with great intentions? the plans in your mind seem attainable and you mentally map out a timeframe of what will get done when? "ok, i'll wash the dishes and get the laundry done before sesame street. we'll do some hooked-on-phonics and have a tea party today. i'll have my quiet time after lunch and organize my recipe binders and coupons during bene's rest time. maybe make a phone call to a long-lost friend, play outside and, at some point, squeeze in some exercise before i get dinner in the oven for a hungry man."
so here comes bene, "play with me", "would you like to sit with me mommy", "let's have a tea party", "do you wanna play pocket girls?" i LOVE playing with her, i love the girly-girl in her, the innocence of her little spirit and i'm honored that she wants to play with me...all..day..long. i think i have as much fun as she does some days, just being a child. no schedule, no set plans. in our pj's until dinner if we want. just us girls.
but my usual response? "just a minute, sweetie. i'll be right there." and then it's an hour or two later and i realize that i haven't offered to blow bubbles outside, read books, or dressed the pocket girls to go their party because i'm so busy straightening the house and folding mounds of laundry. i am by no means a terrific housekeeper but the lazy perfectionist in me wants the house to at least look clean. although i can't remember what month i mopped the kitchen last. i know, it doesn't make any sense.
but i find myself doing the same thing with God. i hear His whispers. i feel the nudge. "just a minute", i say. "i'll be right there". and then i'm not. though, i have found time to take my pregnancy nap, flip through a magazine or do absolutely nothing for two hours. it is so easy for me to forget that God has a daily desire for me to pursue Him and seek the pleasure of His company. sometimes i get so caught up in my own agenda or the dailies of being a housewife that i forget to stop, breathe and be still in the quietness of God. to rest in the presentness of the many moments i'm given everyday. forgive me, Lord for wasting so much time and put in me a spirit to be still and listen for You...and a desire to play polly pockets.

birtha stewart

so i'm packing my bag for the hospital and i realize that, as usual, i am overpacking. i always overpack. i have folded, refolded, packed and unpacked this suitcase at least three times. somethings gotta give because, though i think i cannot possibly birth a baby without every single thing in my suitcase, i am sure that i can. i mean, moms in other parts of the world birth a baby in a field, strap the baby in a mai tai and get on with their chores. but here i am, packing, among other questionable items, a stamp pad for footprints. honestly? i mean, his feet are not going to grow in three days, right? and do i really need to make keepsake mementos hours after i have pushed a baby out of my body? the martha stewart in me does. of course, if i had made the stamping paper myself from one of the lovely trees in our back yard, sprinkled in some jasmine or other herbs from my porch garden, that would make it all the more special. see, there i go! needless to say, the stamp pad might have to come out along with two of the three relaxation cd's, one of the two bottles of massage oil, one of the cameras, and a few other extra articles of clothing. i will, however, still be taking my large nursing pillow, the yoga ball and all the hard candy i can suck on. but maybe, this will make a bit more room. i mean, we'll be bringing a baby home and he's got to fit in the car when we leave. makes me wonder how i went to africa for two weeks with only a carry-on.