So, um, it's been rather a rough few days. Yesterday Monkey had an emergency orthodontist appointment first thing in the morning, because half of one of his torture devices simply fell out of his mouth (band and all). Otto was kind enough to take him to his appointment, and I took Chickadee to school... even though she was having quite a morning, herself, for reasons unclear to me. What was NOT unclear was that she was HIGHLY AGGRIEVED, and---I don't know about you---I just LOVE getting up at 6:00, making breakfast, packing lunches, and generally caring for my family prior to hopping in the...
Otto is a man of relatively few words when it comes to feelings. It's not that he doesn't HAVE them, or even that he won't talk ABOUT them, if pressed, but despite his penchant for a good story, he is somewhat taciturn when it comes to attempting to quantify the changes of the last year-and-change. If, for example, you ask him what the biggest difference is? He will most often recall (usually while being bedtime-tackled by both kids, who are vying for the best hugging position) how in the beginning I would say, "Okay, kids, go say goodnight to Otto," and Monkey would go give him a hug and...
I'm still sick and pitiful, so this will be a quick one, but it's one that I've been meaning to write about for a while. Long ago---before we were engaged, even, I think---one time Otto was visiting us for the weekend and Chickadee was flitting around with a bunch of craft supplies and stuck a butterfly sticker on his shirt. She thought this was hilarious. Because, it was a sparkly butterfly! On a great big MAN! SO FUNNY! I expected Otto to dispose of the sticker at his earliest convenience, though he humored her at the time by thanking her rather elaborately for the nice gift. This made her...
Last night was a typical Sunday night 'round here, which is to say that the children were bouncing off the walls and Otto was trying to finish up some work to prepare for the week and I was realizing exactly how much I hadn't gotten done all weekend long. That always brings all kinds of joy and rapture, and also (in this case) a bunch of banging around in the kitchen. Otto and I are trying something new, owing to our rising grocery costs and my complete inability to think more than a day or two ahead---we're doing weekly menu planning. I know, right? it's like we invented this novel concept!...
Just a quickie, today, as I'm running around. Karen Walrond's Love Thursday post today is about friendships, and it reminded me that although I have a terrible picture to accompany this story, I wanted to share it. [Edit: I came home and the blurry photo was still bothering me, so I took a better one to replace it. Revisionist history! Right here on Woulda Coulda Shoulda!] Back when Otto and I got married, he took the kids aside the day before the wedding and gave them each a gift. Monkey got a tie clip that matched the one Otto would be wearing, and Chickadee got a necklace. A prayer box...
The nice thing about being a newlywed, the second time 'round, is that I'm old enough and wise enough (wise being a relative term, given that the first time 'round I was spending my time alternating between thinking "What have I DONE?" and "Maybe everyone is this miserable and no one tells you!") to actually ENJOY it. I mean, what a concept, right? Enjoying your mate? Basking in the glow of two (or in our case, four) lives meshing together in a way that doesn't make you fantasize about killing anyone in their sleep? I hardly knew it was possible. [And I'm not even just saying that because...
Mom-of-Otto completely astounded her doctors by recovering from the initial situation (multiple organ failure, we don't know what's wrong, she's on a ventilator) to where she is now off the ventilator (though still in multiple organ failure and they don't know why) and harassing the nurses for ginger ale. So that is GREAT NEWS and Otto is back home. Whereupon we commenced irritating each other. I rave about Otto so often, here, that I occasionally have people making comments about how "You have a perfect husband" or "You think you're so great because your husband is superhuman" or things...
When I was a teenager, I LIVED on the phone. My father used to joke about how it was permanently attached to my head. I can remember calling friends so that we could watch television together (over the phone). I was All Phone, All The Time. And then the internet happened. The lovely, lovely internet. I'm still a big fan of constant connection, but the advent of the internet changed things for me. Oh, sure---when I haven't talked with a friend in a long time, nothing but an actual conversation will do, but in general? I much prefer email. Or chatting online. I was trying to figure out why...
The fun and excitement and travel and near-death experiences just NEVER END around here. Not everyone could be me, you know, and that's both because it would be confusing to have more than one of me AND because you need an iron constitution to survive my life. Just in case you were wondering. So I've had this great Love Thursday post planned since last week, back when we'd gone and spent the 4th of July doing patriotic things like letting the children handle fire. (Yeah, see, I thought I understood patriotism when I lived in New England, but that was before I moved to Georgia, the Let Your...
