Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Can you see me smirking?

I totally am. Do you know why? Because my husband, who for five years has mocked me every time I watch American Idol, actually offered to put it on last night. And watched with me. I'm sure if I suggest that he likes it too he'll tell me he's just watching to stay current with his students or for watercooler-type chats or something. But at least now I won't have to DVR it and watch it the next day.

I've been trying to post some thoughts with an accompanying picture through Picasa, but it's not working for me. And I'm too lazy to resize the picture to upload it directly through Blogger. Just imagine a baguette, okay? I'm a bread lover. I get this from my mother. From her I learned that it's not just how good a restaurant's food is, it's also how good their bread selection is. When I was in college and couldn't afford a restaurant that actually gave you free bread, I fell in love with the baguettes at the grocery store that was within walking distance of the campus. Anytime I needed groceries, I would buy a baguette and start eating it the minute I left the store.

A few years ago, they built one of those same grocery stores just up the street from me (seriously, like not a whole mile away). And I resumed my habit of buying a baguette and eating it in the car on the way home. Now it's turned into a tradition - one child will notice which grocery store we're going to and immediately ask if we're buying French bread. If I say yes, a cheer erupts. No sooner do we leave the store with our baguette than they start asking for a piece. I rip the end off and save it for myself (sorry, kids - I love you and all, but that's my favorite part) then rip off pieces for each kid. Even Baby S, who starts grabbing at the bread from the seat of cart as we leave the store.

So my point about all that was more about creating memories than bread, believe it or not. It's one of those things that makes me conscious of what my kids might remember. I hope this is one of those things. A few weeks ago Tom and I popped some popcorn and ate it in bed watching Mythbusters (yeah, we're dorks, so what?). Two little heads popped in the door. "We smell popcorn." Giggle. So we let them come in and eat popcorn with us. Afterwards, I said to Tom - "that's probably something they're remember one day." That's what it's about. Making memories.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

A Change would do you good...

I'm trying to make 2007 (or at least January) a new leaf - keeping my house less cluttered, keeping up with long-term household tasks, doing more fun things with the kids, being more patient with Tom and his workaholism. So far I'm doing really well with it all. In fact, I didn't even consciously decide that I was doing this until yesterday, when I noticed how I'd been making the bed every day - in the morning. See, I like getting into a made bed at night, but I don't usually like to make the bed as soon as I get up. So I'd make the bed at 10 and get in it right away. Kind of pointless. But since the Christmas break, I've been making it at least before Mr. T gets home from school. Weird.

I'm not normally the type for a New Year's resolution. If I want to change something about myself, I change it. I don't need a calendar page to force me to do it. Maybe it's just a reminder to people that you can be different. The year changes and so can you. I've just never felt like it was that big a thing. Change if you want to. Don't if you don't want to. Simple, right? And here I am with a New Year's resolution, even if I haven't officially called it that. I'm working out again (isn't January a great time for that? Holiday excesses are no longer an excuse for why my jeans are a little tighter. Get me to the treadmill), I'm trying to keep my house in "visitor readiness." You know? The state in which a visitor could come over at any moment and you wouldn't feel embarassed? It's the clutter that gets me. Dishes are usually done (lately, at least), and toys don't embarass me - I have three kids under 6, deal with the toys. But the clutter drives me nuts. But I'm working on it.

Saturday, January 6, 2007

Take me back...

You ever hear a song and just get a complete and total sense of where you were when you last heard it or where you first heard it or whatever? (Yes, I'm completely avoiding talking about that game. I'll talk about the first half, if you'd like, but I'm pretending the second half didn't happen. Go Ravens).

This has been happening to me a lot lately. I get suddenly nostagic for times that don't really warrant it (like my sophomore year of high school - I had more angst than an episode of Dawson's Creek - which is probably why that show is one of my guilty pleasures). I was out Christmas shopping after the kids went to bed (Tom was home and all, so I didn't just leave them in their beds) and - of all freaking songs - "Ice, Ice Baby" came on the radio. First of all, seriously? The radio? Have you broken every CD, wav file, cassette tape, DJ humming the ABC's in the station? Secondly, why the FREAKING HELL do I still know all the words to this song? That is some valuable real estate, right there, going to complete and total waste. That, my friends, is why I can't remember what I ate for dinner last night.

Tom and I are off for a night alone tonight. The kids are all three at Grandmom and Pop's (which equals my parents. Tom's parents are Grandmom and Granddad). We're going to eat a restaurant that only has one location and requires a little dressing up.

Wednesday, January 3, 2007

Shake down the thunder from the sky

On a lighter note, do you know what tonight is? I've been drowning, utterly saturating myself in football for the past five days in anticipation of having to go cold turkey until September (well, unless the Ravens continue to win, but college-free at any rate).

SUGAR BOWL!!! Notre Dame v. LSU. MamaChris is muy excited. And...well...a little (lot) nervous for her boys. Don't get me wrong. I think they're the best team Notre Dame has seen since 93 (and don't get me started on the travesty surrounding the national championship that year). But the big teams have given them trouble this year. So I'm worried. But hopeful. And determined to cheer her loyal sons onward to victory.

And in a super cute side note: I'm doing my best to raise little Notre Dame football fans. I've taught my kids the victory march. Mr. T hums it - he's embarassed to sing in public. Miss G, she belts it out. All jumbled up and misheard, but she sure is loud. You should see her accompanying dance to go with the title above. This girl. Baby S is my best hope, I think. I've been explaining football to her since she was born. Last season she was only a few months old, but this year she was old enough to seem fascinated by it. Next year, she probably won't sit still for it, but I tried.

Tuesday, January 2, 2007

I think I might be cured...

It's only taken five years and two months, but I think I might finally be cured of my need to watch television. Partly this is due to the DVR, which - I feel like a total dork for saying this - has changed my life. I no longer feel like I need to be home to watch something. I just set it up to record. If I want to go to bed before e.r. ends, I just hit the record button. Partly this is due to time. One of the reasons I've watched television so very regularly in the past few years was that when 9/11 happened, I wasn't watching anything. So for years, I would click over to one of the major news channels every so often - usually I had to check all of them to make sure they didn't have the same story on (apparently, the benchmark for major disaster in my head).

I've stopped watching the news altogether. And do you know what's happened? I sleep. I fall asleep quickly and I stay asleep all night. I haven't felt this well rested in a long time. It's as if cutting out the bad stuff - that I can't help but internalize and mull over for hours - has actually helped me cut out the bad stuff in my life at night. I used to lie awake thinking of everything that was even a little bad and just getting anxious and nervous and then I would be even more awake and I'd think more. I ended up staying up every night until midnight or later just so I would be completely exhausted when I went to bed and I didn't have time to think.

I noticed this last night because I was awoken by loud sirens and fire engines driving through my neighborhood. I was awake for at least an hour afterward, worried for the people they were going to help, worried that it might be someone I knew. And then once the worry started, I couldn't turn it off. So I'm extra tired today and I have quite a headache. But I've learned something valuable about the way I deal with things. Best during daylight hours.