I just saw this quiz on the blog of the lovely and talented Disco Mom and felt compelled to take it...and post the link. Thank you, Kari, for the fabulous diversion! Incidentally, my apparent similarities with Anne could explain my abiding affinity for Persuasion. Well, that and Captain Wentworth's letter. Now only one question remains: Ciaran Hinds or Rupert Penry-Jones?
Friday, May 23, 2008
Life in Hyperbole
Oh the trauma, drama, weeping, wailing, and otherwise gnashing of teeth that have occurred since last we met. Alright, so it wasn't all bad. Rather entertaining actually. One admission that must be made - life is never boring.
The adventure began Tuesday night (well, last Friday if we are going to be accurate.) Ginny, as she has the tendency to do, was overcome by yet another attack of croup. Foolish mortals that we are, Dave and I thought we had it under control by the end of the weekend and went merrily on our way. The prevailing Gods of health and medicine had other ideas, however. By Tuesday night Ginny was coughing incessantly, quite literally turning blue while gasping for air, and found herself in the emergency room....again. By early Wednesday morning, she was back home, and Dave and I were left pondering the eternal question - are the rocking chairs at the hospital really comfortable enough to warrant our copay? By Thursday night, we were armed with the requisite medication and nebulizer to avoid enjoying the amenities of the ER in the near future. Ginny once again donned her Snow White dress and danced about to the Enchanted soundtrack (interspersed with coughing fits of course). All was right with the world.
While Ginny recovered, Ellie had her own formidable challenges on the horizon in the form of the ubiquitous school program. This time around, she had her very own line to recite. For weeks we have labored over the assigned words. We have rehearsed, cajoled, and encouraged in preparation for this night of nights. On Wednesday evening, we were ready. Sleep deprived and weary from a day of holding the aforementioned croup victim, we nonetheless got our sorry selves to the school (I don't recall the drive to be honest) and waited for our girl's time to shine. Miss Christie introduced her class and the subject of their presentation - the state of Minnesota. The students lined up to offer their recitations. One by one the kids completed their parts moving Ellie closer and closer to the front. Before we knew it, the moment had arrived. Our little girl stood there with the poise of Grace Kelly and the stage presence of Bernadette Peters. She held up her picture, took hold of the microphone and uttered the words that would make any Shakespearean soliloquy pale by comparison..."the state insect is the monarch butterfly." And then she left the stage before singing a note of the songs she'd practiced, informing us that she was done. Oh, what a short but illustrious career.
Yes, it's been a crazy week. It seems the universe is bent on putting everything into perspective, however. This morning while cleaning out my dresser, I ran across my "Mom Bag" - a tote bag with a small illustration and list of contents courtesy of one our favorite authors, Sandra Boynton. And that's when it hit me. As nutty as things may get sometimes, at it's core my life is really no more complicated than a Boynton joke in hyperbole:
Mom Bag!
for toys, books, one sock, baby bottles, pliers, formerly-moist towelettes, PhD thesis, crumbs, pacifier, cell phone, lip gloss, keys, shopping lists, and assorted unidentifiable sticky objects, one of which might be your wallet.
Ah! Motherhood!
The adventure began Tuesday night (well, last Friday if we are going to be accurate.) Ginny, as she has the tendency to do, was overcome by yet another attack of croup. Foolish mortals that we are, Dave and I thought we had it under control by the end of the weekend and went merrily on our way. The prevailing Gods of health and medicine had other ideas, however. By Tuesday night Ginny was coughing incessantly, quite literally turning blue while gasping for air, and found herself in the emergency room....again. By early Wednesday morning, she was back home, and Dave and I were left pondering the eternal question - are the rocking chairs at the hospital really comfortable enough to warrant our copay? By Thursday night, we were armed with the requisite medication and nebulizer to avoid enjoying the amenities of the ER in the near future. Ginny once again donned her Snow White dress and danced about to the Enchanted soundtrack (interspersed with coughing fits of course). All was right with the world.
While Ginny recovered, Ellie had her own formidable challenges on the horizon in the form of the ubiquitous school program. This time around, she had her very own line to recite. For weeks we have labored over the assigned words. We have rehearsed, cajoled, and encouraged in preparation for this night of nights. On Wednesday evening, we were ready. Sleep deprived and weary from a day of holding the aforementioned croup victim, we nonetheless got our sorry selves to the school (I don't recall the drive to be honest) and waited for our girl's time to shine. Miss Christie introduced her class and the subject of their presentation - the state of Minnesota. The students lined up to offer their recitations. One by one the kids completed their parts moving Ellie closer and closer to the front. Before we knew it, the moment had arrived. Our little girl stood there with the poise of Grace Kelly and the stage presence of Bernadette Peters. She held up her picture, took hold of the microphone and uttered the words that would make any Shakespearean soliloquy pale by comparison..."the state insect is the monarch butterfly." And then she left the stage before singing a note of the songs she'd practiced, informing us that she was done. Oh, what a short but illustrious career.
Yes, it's been a crazy week. It seems the universe is bent on putting everything into perspective, however. This morning while cleaning out my dresser, I ran across my "Mom Bag" - a tote bag with a small illustration and list of contents courtesy of one our favorite authors, Sandra Boynton. And that's when it hit me. As nutty as things may get sometimes, at it's core my life is really no more complicated than a Boynton joke in hyperbole:
Mom Bag!
for toys, books, one sock, baby bottles, pliers, formerly-moist towelettes, PhD thesis, crumbs, pacifier, cell phone, lip gloss, keys, shopping lists, and assorted unidentifiable sticky objects, one of which might be your wallet.
Ah! Motherhood!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
What's in a name?
Ah the profundity of a guilt complex! For months I have relished the opportunity to reconnect with friends and family through their insightful and often pithy blog entries. In spite of my own complete failure to maintain contact with anyone with whom I do not share DNA, I have been able to remain abreast of the sundry goings on in others' lives. As of late, however, I decided this borders on a kind of veuyerism - watching others (through publicly accessible virtual spaces, mind you!) while maintaining my own relative anonymity. So in an act of contrition (and an uncomfortable one at that) I decided to attempt to start a blog of my own. It is a small - and terribly awkward - offering to the virtual world in hopes that what were once lopsided friendships will find greater equilibrium.
As for the blog itself, my husband informed me that I may need to provide some explanation for what apparently is a rather enigmatic title. In my previous life as a full-time grad student at the University of Colorado, I would occasionally indulge in what my fabulous friend Portia and I called Boo Radley Syndrome. (Please see Harper Lee's amazing book To Kill a Mockingbird for further clarification.) This condition manifested itself by the desire to disappear into one's home, often with comfort food and a great book, and hide from the general public for a time. Since moving away from CU and increasing our family size by 50%, I regret to admit that Boo Radley Syndrome seems to have become a way of life for me. What can I say? Trying to be mom, wife, housekeeper, and scholar is rather....distracting. Just trying to keep the jam off of my thesis notes could constitute a full time job! So with this blog, I hereby attempt to fend off my Boo Radley tendencies and take a few steps back into the outside world.
As for the blog itself, my husband informed me that I may need to provide some explanation for what apparently is a rather enigmatic title. In my previous life as a full-time grad student at the University of Colorado, I would occasionally indulge in what my fabulous friend Portia and I called Boo Radley Syndrome. (Please see Harper Lee's amazing book To Kill a Mockingbird for further clarification.) This condition manifested itself by the desire to disappear into one's home, often with comfort food and a great book, and hide from the general public for a time. Since moving away from CU and increasing our family size by 50%, I regret to admit that Boo Radley Syndrome seems to have become a way of life for me. What can I say? Trying to be mom, wife, housekeeper, and scholar is rather....distracting. Just trying to keep the jam off of my thesis notes could constitute a full time job! So with this blog, I hereby attempt to fend off my Boo Radley tendencies and take a few steps back into the outside world.
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