sunday driving with ADD

As you may see from the date here, it's been a busy couple of weeks, and no time to sort it all out and post the sordid details of my life. Not that there is anything sordid, which explains the small size of my readership. I am sure if I put more in about my secret life as an ass-kicking extra-terrestrial hunter, I would get more people hooked. Whoops.

On to a few thoughts I have ruminated on recently. I am re-reading Pride and Prejudice, after certain events in my family encouraged me to seek out another family to surpass my own in drama and silliness. I wonder if every woman with sisters reads books like P and P, and imagines herself only as Elizabeth--the sensible one with a keen wit. One could hardly be a reader and relate to Mary or Lydia in the book. Maybe someone could relate to Jane, but I am certainly not that person. She's far too forgiving and optimistic. Other books like Little Women come to mind, where I of course relate to Jo (wanting a strong, manly-type profession--whoops again--and not caring so much about domestic bliss until the end) and the other sisters remind me of my sisters in some ways. I guess that's why they are so popular, besides the obvious fact that they are excellent books. One character in literature I could not relate to, but envied terribly, was Nancy Drew. She was so independent, skilled at everything she tried, and cool under pressure.

A thought struck me just now: all of my favorite female characters in literature did not want to be girly, or do normal-girl things like get married off to a rich man, be content with embroidering by the fire, gossiping, and popping out scores of children. Eowyn, my favorite of all from Lord of the Rings, wanted to die in battle rather than sit with the other women and wait for news. Well it explains a whole lot. You shrinks out there, have a blast with my identity crisis.

I am no Nancy Drew when it comes to high-pressure situations, borne out by certain events today. We had a lovely day, visiting our former church home, Truro Episcopal, in Fairfax. More specifically, we came to see our dear friend Ed Knippers, whose website I have finally put up and am not ashamed of. There is still much work to be done, but I can't believe I got the software to cooperate. Anyway, we went to see him and participate in the Lessons and Carols service, which was great. I love the old hymns, liturgy, and having Communion every Sunday. If I didn't love the people in my own church so much, I would feel quite at home in the very English Episcopal setting (one that believes in the Bible's authority, I might qualify here. It's no good having liturgy if you don't believe what the liturgy's about).

Will I finish my story or not? I am queen of digression and editorializing. sheesh. (oh--check here for a real editorializing treat by yours truly! but be warned, it's bitter.)

We had a great time, ate lunch, visited Ed's studio and saw some tremendous stuff, and I was driving us home on the D.C. beltway, listening to the British version of Harry Potter book 2 on the speakers. I don't recall seeing the signs for 95 north, and before I knew it, we were nearing the Wilson Bridge in crawling traffic. For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, let's just say I had no business being on the Wilson Friggin Bridge if I wanted to go to Baltimore. Idiot!!

I yelled at D for playing his Nintendo, yelled at A for asking for his Batman for the 40th time, yelled at myself in several languages, and yelled at the traffic. D had youth group tonight and left his cell phone at home with every important number on it (I have bare bones numbers on mine). We were out of diapers in the diaper bag because, I mean really, isn't three more than enough? No. Of course, today was a super-pee day for A, where every change is just in the nick of time before the diaper disintegrates into a pool of gelatinous cotton-goo.

Things were tense. The upshot was we got to eat at La Madeleine's in Alexandria, whose tomato-basil soup we have nicknamed "crack soup," it's so addictively yummy. A was charming with the wait staff, ate about 10 huge strawberries, and danced around the floor while D went to buy some diapers down the street. We met a family with a daughter the same age as A, whose name would have been his if she'd been a he. Spooky.

We are safely home, obviously, and A was a real trooper through the whole ride. "Lots taffic, mommy?" he asked over and over. Mommy mad at shelf, that's for sure.

poop

A is asleep, much earlier and without lunch today. He has had evil poop for 24 hours now, and woke up covered in it, stinking up his room and the whole upstairs. He had a bath before breakfast, 3 dirty diapers, and 2 outfits. I cancelled my private lessons for today and just want to sit here and recoup from poop. I can still smell it, even though I have changed my clothes and virtually scrubbed my hands raw. Eugh.

(I am calling the doctor as well, since he was so listless he fell asleep on me, which never happens to this busy guy)

Just off the phone with the doctor, so I know what to do now. Poor guy. He's been so much fun lately, and had an excellent birthday with many friends and family. It's a far cry from my post in July, when he wasn't sleeping much and I was hating life. I feel so much less desperate now, like I have grown up more in the past few months. I don't feel like a normal adult--even though the surface things might be the same as many women who stay at home with their kid--most of the time now I don't feel so bad about being a less-than-creative cook, or big-event-only housekeeper. I don't mind so much that I haven't painted in 6 months, and that most of my drawings are designs for crocheted stuff or specific descriptions of groceries when D goes to the store ("chestnuts, one pound, look like (insert drawing here). should be satiny finish and a bit heavy for their size"). It's only when I make plans that are too ambitious that I wind up being disappointed in the slow pace of life with a toddler. Or when he decides to be willful and wastes food at dinner, after a day of pushing my limits.

I don't feel like I am missing out anymore. Even though life is terribly exciting for many people, doing things I would like to do (live in New York, travel, go to museums for an entire day, eat a hot meal :), right now I don't envy them like I used to. Praise God, yet again, for his mercy.

halloween

Bam-Bam, Batman, and Fairy Ma'am

Mr. Fantastic and Johnny Danger read up on their predecessors

Jack and Meg White of the White Stripes

Bat-Bayaaaaaaan!

Happy Reformation Day! Today is the day that Martin Luther posted his 95 theses on the church door in Wittenburg. In Lutheran schools, where D and I attended, this day meant coloring in a photocopy of the Lutheran seal, talking about indulgences and berating the evil Catholic church. Fun for all!

For me, I am recovering from a very enjoyable, overwhelming Halloween evening. No matter how much I try to prepare, trick-or-treaters always take me broadside for some reason. One year I burned 3 grilled cheeses trying to prepare dinner and take care of the onslaught of dressed-up (and shabbily-dressed) kids.

A was dressed as Batman, a popular costume choice this year. "Anunner Bat-bain!" he screams when they come to the door. I only saw two "Ha-yee Pot-ters," a gorgeous Little Red Riding hood, and surprisingly, a group of teenagers who had excellent costumes they made. Usually, teenagers who come to my door give the answer "myself," as who they are dressed to be for halloween. My dad, who I am sure will be beat up sometime for this, refuses to give candy to kids who don't dress up. Many of these kids are as tall as my dad, and twice as broad. He just likes the conflict, I guess.

There was a little more excitement than I would like near my friend's house last night. There were about 50 very loud big kids roving in a pack down one of the main neighborhood streets, and one of the neighbors was egged in the face by one of them. I also just found out that 2 people's car windows were smashed in an alley. There was a cop car that stationed itself down at the end of the street finally, but that didn't give me a whole lot more comfort. It's so depressing to have such punk-asses roaming around. There are kids who sometimes mass around the playground too, screaming obscenities at each other and making a scary mess of the place. When I am there, my teacher-self bubbles to the surface and longs to give them all a good long detention. Alas, their moms just tell them to get out of the house and quit bugging them, so they go and make nuisances of themselves elsewhere.

On a good note, my best friend came by with her 3 wonderful little ones, since they live on a very steep hill and don't have much neighborhood to trick-or-treat in. The boys had a great time, and little L was super-sweet as we made the rounds. The boys especially liked their muscly shadows on the ground, and helped hand out candy to people coming up. Then some other friends came by to trick-or-treat with A, and D said that he was ecstatic to get candy at each house.

We looked over the loot later on with A, and it was so funny to see his reaction to all the shiny wrappers and different shapes. I don't know how much of it he will eventually eat. Not much, if I have my way--I don't want him to suffer the same dental traumas I endured. Plus I am greedy and love chocolate. Counting on a short attention span for this!