You would never guess this about me, but for the past several months I've been keeping a big secret from bubba hubby. I've been sending sneaky emails, making phone calls when he wasn't around, and getting "good cover story" coaching from one of my best friends (she knows who she is -- I won't bother to name names).
I'm generally not very good at lying, but thanks to his distracted state of being, I got away with it. Honestly, there were so many clues he could have picked up on, I was almost surprised that he was truly surprised when the big day came -- last Wednesday.
The bar exam was two days long. On Wednesday, the second and final day of the exam, the brother-in-law travelled ALL the way from Oregon with his two wonderful kids to surprise dear hubby. I had some anxious moments in preparation -- but it all turned out WAY cool and was well worth any stress I took on by keeping secrets.
Rand got home just before 5 o'clock on Wednesday. The kids and I had "planned" a nice dinner at home and just time to hang out. Aside from having to talk him OUT of calling his brother and dad as soon as he arrived home from the test, the whole surprise thing worked out pretty well. Derek (hubby's brother) called on the phone about the time Rand normally would have expected a call from him. So they were just chatting and catching up on the test AS Derek and his sons were actually getting out of their rental car in front of our house!
The kids and I were just giddy. It was fun -- and the look on Rand's face was just priceless. Derek was ALL the way in the door and about four feet away when Rand realized that the voice he was hearing on the phone was right there!
So that's been the past four days at our house... entertaining nephews from Oregon (one we had never actually met before!) and hanging out with the brother-in-law. Lots of fun.
We were joined this weekend by two families of good friends and their children and our very tiny house held up well to all the company. Good times! A little more video recorded to remind us all 10 years from now, just how young we were. Lots of pictures (I hope good -- haven't looked at them yet).
And now the secrecy of the past many months is all behind us. How is it that the things we look forward to and plan so carefully pass so quickly?
My sister says that's the worst thing about vacations -- the end of them. Well, I'm not going to dwell on it being over. I'm just going to load all my pictures and re-live the past five days a little while longer.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Big Day
Today is first of two days for the bar exam. Bubba Hubby just left looking calm, cool, and collected.
I, on the other hand, have some major butterflies.
This is our last hurdle, I guess. Two and a half years have led to this point. He will take the test, start his job next Monday... life goes on.
I was looking at our photo album last night. I've managed to fill one huge three-ring binder since we've been here in Topeka (and I do all my photos digitally/many pictures per page -- so that's a heck of a lot of pictures).
Sometimes I feel like I've done a lot of waiting for this point in time. But mostly I'm amazed how quickly it has passed and how much we have done....
Good times. Good friends. More good things to come.
I, on the other hand, have some major butterflies.
This is our last hurdle, I guess. Two and a half years have led to this point. He will take the test, start his job next Monday... life goes on.
I was looking at our photo album last night. I've managed to fill one huge three-ring binder since we've been here in Topeka (and I do all my photos digitally/many pictures per page -- so that's a heck of a lot of pictures).
Sometimes I feel like I've done a lot of waiting for this point in time. But mostly I'm amazed how quickly it has passed and how much we have done....
Good times. Good friends. More good things to come.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Four Things
Thanks to Kim at Relaxed Homeskool, for making your tags so inclusive. I've been seeing this MEME and thought it looked kind of fun... now I can consider myself tagged!
4 jobs you have had in your life
4 movies you could watch over and over
4 places you have been on vacation
4 websites you visit daily
4 of your favorite foods
4 places you would rather be right now
4 cars you have owned
4 bloggers you are tagging
4 jobs you have had in your life
- desktop publisher at CopyMax, Topeka
- adjunct pscyhology instructor, Dodge City Community College
- medical supplies assistant & operations coordinator, ORBIS International, Houston
- periodicals/bindery preparation assistant, Watson Library, KU
4 movies you could watch over and over
- Shrek
- Back to the Future (all of them)
- Hook (or any Peter Pan movie, really
- Ever After
4 places you have been on vacation
- Ixtapa, Mexico
- San Antonio, Texas
- Chicago, Illinois
- Lamar, Missouri
4 websites you visit daily
- Dear Abby -- I should be embarrased to admit it, but I always read Dear Abby
- bubba hubby's blog
- Topeka Capital Journal
- Space.com and/or LiveScience.com
4 of your favorite foods
- Shrimp from Pappasitos
- Chocolate (any kind)
- Chocolate with coconut (even better)
- thin crust pizza from Glory Days with pepperoni, mushroom & jalapenos.
4 places you would rather be right now
- in my new, yet unknown, hopefully to be bigger home in Emporia
- but really, pretty content where I am
- maybe sitting in a more comfy chair, but in front of my computer, just like I am right now
- really, it's not such a bad place to be
4 cars you have owned
- 1998 Toyota Camry (still own)
- 1989 Dodge Caravan (still own)
- 1987? Chevy Voyager? (looked just like the Caravan, only uglier)
- 19?? Chevy Celebrity? (gray, four doors)
4 bloggers you are tagging
A Love Story
The first time I ever saw my son flirt, he was almost three and surrounded by a cluster of nurses, a female doctor putting stitches beneath his tiny little chin. As late as it was, his blue eyes were wide and his tears had dried, crystal smudges on his cheeks. His chest almost visibly puffed with bravery as the pretty nurses fawned over him and called his name. I, his mother, felt almost an extra on the scene.
He’s now five, but just barely, by my accounting. Two weeks ago he informed me that he would be making a special valentine for “his love.” I felt my heart break a little when I realized that this special girl was not me, nor either one of his sisters. He’s had his tiny heart wrapped around a girl from our playgroup for a while now. And why shouldn’t he? She’s sweet, she lights up a room with her smile, and she tends to pay attention when he talks to her. Never mind that she’s an “older” woman – nearly 12, I believe.
For this girl, he labored, writing letters on his own and designing a heart with a special candy pocket. As he carried his own wallet to the store today, I caught a glimpse of the boy my baby is becoming. Too mature, all of a sudden, to hold my hand, he strode with purpose to the candy aisle and made his selection with confidence.
Much later, at the valentine’s party, he turned into my little guy again. “Mom,” he whispered to me, “Will you tell her I need to talk to her in private?” Part of me wanted to sweep him into my arms and tuck his candy heart away. “Later, baby,” I wanted to say. “Just hold on to your heart and someday, many, many years from now, I’ll let you give it away.”
I know, however, his heart will never be mine to give or to hold – not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not many years from now. So I whispered in her ear, that my son was hoping to see her in the next room. I was not even able to witness the first time he gave his heart away.
He’s now five, but just barely, by my accounting. Two weeks ago he informed me that he would be making a special valentine for “his love.” I felt my heart break a little when I realized that this special girl was not me, nor either one of his sisters. He’s had his tiny heart wrapped around a girl from our playgroup for a while now. And why shouldn’t he? She’s sweet, she lights up a room with her smile, and she tends to pay attention when he talks to her. Never mind that she’s an “older” woman – nearly 12, I believe.
For this girl, he labored, writing letters on his own and designing a heart with a special candy pocket. As he carried his own wallet to the store today, I caught a glimpse of the boy my baby is becoming. Too mature, all of a sudden, to hold my hand, he strode with purpose to the candy aisle and made his selection with confidence.
Much later, at the valentine’s party, he turned into my little guy again. “Mom,” he whispered to me, “Will you tell her I need to talk to her in private?” Part of me wanted to sweep him into my arms and tuck his candy heart away. “Later, baby,” I wanted to say. “Just hold on to your heart and someday, many, many years from now, I’ll let you give it away.”
I know, however, his heart will never be mine to give or to hold – not today, not tomorrow, and certainly not many years from now. So I whispered in her ear, that my son was hoping to see her in the next room. I was not even able to witness the first time he gave his heart away.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Pre-Moving, Pre-Prep & Clean-up
I'm fighting the house-cleaning boogies. I cleaned out the pantry yesterday -- found my "junk" baskets from when we moved from Dodge City. They were just stuffed in the back of the cabinet as if they were full of priceless treasure or something. Had a couple of "Ah, THAT's where that was” moments… but mostly it was "What the hell was I keeping this for?"
Found in the rubble:
A to-do list for moving. Info about our temporary rental house after the move. Numerous keys. My old glasses. A key chain my aunt gave me as a gift before we moved. LOTS of screws and nails and tacks. Probably $5 in change. A baby pacifier (not mine, we never used pacifiers). Pens. Pencils. Apple-shaped post-it notepads. Cinnamon Listerine Oral Care Strips.
Made me feel oddly sentimental… and relieved… and... I don't know what... all at the same time.
Found in the rubble:
A to-do list for moving. Info about our temporary rental house after the move. Numerous keys. My old glasses. A key chain my aunt gave me as a gift before we moved. LOTS of screws and nails and tacks. Probably $5 in change. A baby pacifier (not mine, we never used pacifiers). Pens. Pencils. Apple-shaped post-it notepads. Cinnamon Listerine Oral Care Strips.
Made me feel oddly sentimental… and relieved… and... I don't know what... all at the same time.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Let's Pretend...
Today I managed something I’m not typically very good at. It’s called “let’s pretend” play. I used to feel kind of bad about my inability to play this game with my kids, but after numerous conversations with some of my mom friends, I’ve decided that I’m not unique in my failure. Let’s pretend is a really hard game to play. It requires skills that we apparently lose as we grow older.
The problem generally seems to be two-fold. I either don’t GET the game, or my momma imagination takes me in directions that my kids just don’t seem to comprehend.
“Why can’t I be a butterfly?” I might ask.
“Because there are no butterflies in this game,” they might inform me.
“But you said I could be anything! I want to be a butterfly!”
“But butterflies don’t talk and their wings are too fragile and they’d never survive the fighter fairies. You can’t be a butterfly, Mom.”
So I usually muddle along, unsure if I’m playing my role correctly or just plain frustrated that I can’t seem to get in sync with the game. I retreat. I suggest that all of my pretend has run out, and then I excuse myself to do something practical like cleaning the kitchen floor or scrubbing a toilet.
Today, however, I played “let’s pretend,” and I had fun and, best of all, my son thinks I walk on water because I played the game so well. We went swimming at the Y and there was an alligator in the pool. Really! A big, green alligator!
My son said, “Hey, let’s pretend that this is OUR alligator and we are going to ride him out to sea and…”
So I grabbed onto the tail while he rode on the alligator’s back and our adventure had begun. The alligator took us here and there and occasionally we’d have to get off to feed it. I still slipped up. Sometimes I would stick a hand, or my son’s head, in the alligator’s mouth and I’d get a long lecture on just how dangerous those alligator teeth could be. We caught fish, which I tried to throw directly to the alligator, not realizing that we were supposed to be collecting the fish in a bag so that we could feed the alligator later.
I was forgiven, however. My son was very patient with me and, because he liked the way my fishes flopped around when I caught them, I had a little leeway when my pretending went astray.
The best part was when we started collecting things - seashells as big as my head and star fish as colorful as rainbows. Then I found a treasure that was shaped EXACTLY like my son’s foot and he had to stop again and lecture me.
“Mom! That’s my FOOT! You’re supposed to be looking for seashells.”
So I wasn’t perfect, but I did pretend.
Later I made my way to the hot tub while Dad stayed and played the game with the alligator-feeding boy. As we left the pool, my son asked me a question which I answered in my best “let’s pretend” game face.
I heard hubby, who was following along behind us, say, “Wow. Mom really IS better at this game than I am.”
My son agreed whole-heartedly…. and I beamed, and tucked a little foot-shaped shell away in my box of momma memories.
The problem generally seems to be two-fold. I either don’t GET the game, or my momma imagination takes me in directions that my kids just don’t seem to comprehend.
“Why can’t I be a butterfly?” I might ask.
“Because there are no butterflies in this game,” they might inform me.
“But you said I could be anything! I want to be a butterfly!”
“But butterflies don’t talk and their wings are too fragile and they’d never survive the fighter fairies. You can’t be a butterfly, Mom.”
So I usually muddle along, unsure if I’m playing my role correctly or just plain frustrated that I can’t seem to get in sync with the game. I retreat. I suggest that all of my pretend has run out, and then I excuse myself to do something practical like cleaning the kitchen floor or scrubbing a toilet.
Today, however, I played “let’s pretend,” and I had fun and, best of all, my son thinks I walk on water because I played the game so well. We went swimming at the Y and there was an alligator in the pool. Really! A big, green alligator!
My son said, “Hey, let’s pretend that this is OUR alligator and we are going to ride him out to sea and…”
So I grabbed onto the tail while he rode on the alligator’s back and our adventure had begun. The alligator took us here and there and occasionally we’d have to get off to feed it. I still slipped up. Sometimes I would stick a hand, or my son’s head, in the alligator’s mouth and I’d get a long lecture on just how dangerous those alligator teeth could be. We caught fish, which I tried to throw directly to the alligator, not realizing that we were supposed to be collecting the fish in a bag so that we could feed the alligator later.
I was forgiven, however. My son was very patient with me and, because he liked the way my fishes flopped around when I caught them, I had a little leeway when my pretending went astray.
The best part was when we started collecting things - seashells as big as my head and star fish as colorful as rainbows. Then I found a treasure that was shaped EXACTLY like my son’s foot and he had to stop again and lecture me.
“Mom! That’s my FOOT! You’re supposed to be looking for seashells.”
So I wasn’t perfect, but I did pretend.
Later I made my way to the hot tub while Dad stayed and played the game with the alligator-feeding boy. As we left the pool, my son asked me a question which I answered in my best “let’s pretend” game face.
I heard hubby, who was following along behind us, say, “Wow. Mom really IS better at this game than I am.”
My son agreed whole-heartedly…. and I beamed, and tucked a little foot-shaped shell away in my box of momma memories.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)