best laid plans, in which jon teaches the boys about anniversaries

8 years ago today

This morning Jon ducked out the door before the boys and I were up. His plan was to dash to Starbucks and back and surprise me with my favorite drink when I woke up, but it took a bit longer than expected. By the time he got back with my tall nonfat no-whip peppermint mocha (yep, I'm high maintenance like that), the boys were already up and sitting at the table eating cereal. Despite Jon's best efforts to explain that "anniversary" means a day celebrating our marriage, we are pretty sure they now think it is the exact opposite...

[when Jon walked in]

Nate: Daddy! Where did you sleep??

[later, before Jon left for work]

Dexter: Daddy, did you come here just to get dressed?

they said it

With two little boys, one of whom is in the (long, arduous, and as-yet-unsuccessful) process of potty training, there is a fair amount of poop-related talk around our house. Most of it drives me nuts but some of it is pretty funny...

---

[I love how literal 2 year olds can be.]

Me: (changing Dexter) Ughhh Dex, I am so tired of you pooping in your pants.
Dexter: Go in your bed then.

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[Jon's parents were here last week and the boys made Grandpa tell them "Jack and the Beanstalk" over and over all week...]

Nate: Mommy! Dexter pooped!
Dexter: No I didn't.
Nate: Yes he did Mom, I smell it!
Dexter: No, that was the blood of an Englishman.



The pool opened yesterday!

like to like

I have a growing list of Things I Would Do Research On If I Were A Sociologist. Here's the latest addition to the list: What does the "like" button on facebook say about our sociological culture? I'm not sure how I would set up the study exactly or what my hypothesis would be, but I think it is an interesting question.

I am an admitted social media addict, but I only use facebook for a few specific things: spying on people (c'mon you do it too), keeping up with 3-4 close friends/family who use fb as their primary means of communication, and sharing selected posts from my blog. Lately I have also used it to post updates on our adoption, which has been a bit of a roller coaster lately. The adoption posts helped me notice a pattern that I'm guessing is probably fairly universal on fb and in 'real life': people like good news and happy stuff, but don't know what to do with sad news and hard stuff.

It is easy to hit "like" on a post about your old roommate getting a 2nd interview for her dream job. It is a lot harder to know what to say to someone marking the anniversary of their grandmother's death. (And a "dislike" button would certainly not help at all.)

This is part of why I don't usually put anything heavy or significant on facebook: people don't know what to do with it and I don't really feel the need to share anyway. But since our adoption story is something that many of our friends and family members are following via facebook, I feel a desire to share what is happening - good or bad. Our good news post had 21 "like" hits and 27 comments, plus a half dozen related wall posts. Our bad news post had 4 comments. This obviously doesn't mean people only care about the good stuff... I think we just don't know what to do with it.

I'm still chewing on why this matters to me, why I think it has deeper implications for our culture and the way we engage in relationships with one another. I'd love to hear your thoughts...

was it you?

Sometimes I get this feeling like someone is praying for me. This morning it was while I sat in the warm sun with hot coffee and watched my children play. It was one of those moments where the colors and sounds are so intense and vivid that it almost doesn't feel real - sky, flowers, birdsong, laughter, new leaves, sidewalk chalk... I took these pictures on my phone but they don't do the scene justice. To whoever you are, thanks for praying.

beach spring

Mimi & Grandpa are visiting this week. We followed the sun to Seahurst Beach and had an amazing morning. [And yes, I'm still obsessed with the Hipstamatic app on my phone.]

mercy blow

It's been a long time since I've shared any poems here. Seems like it's about time.

I wrote this one a few weeks ago, while this was happening. Then I forgot about it when this happened. And now I'm revisiting it because this is happening.

Mercy Blow

If you’re going to break my heart, just smash it.
Really.
Hit it hard, one fell swoop to crush completely -
beaten beyond recognition,
no pieces big enough to hint at what it looked like whole,
hopeful.

But no you don’t, do you. No.
Not a stomping, crashing, merciless destroyer, you.
You – a child,
sweet and pensive, with a dandelion gone to seed.
Too slow and thoughtful to give one longed-for
gust of blowing breath – no –
instead you pluck a flimsy fragile wisp,
and then another, each in its own time, carefully and kindly,
killing me.