Shut The Door, Keep Out The Dill Pickles

It's summertime again. This means, among other things, that my boys will be spending more time at their dad's house. They are gone for a 15 day stretch right now, and I miss them terribly, but there are awesome reminders of them everywhere.

I normally keep their bedroom doors open all the time, so I can see their beds and toys when I walk by. But, due to the 105 degree weather we've been having, I decided to close up their rooms in an attempt to save on my A/C bill (though that might be futile at this point). I kind of thought it was going to be a sad thing, walking the hall and only seeing shut doors, but I was wrong.

I guess I didn't pay much attention to these signs on their doors before now. I knew they were there, of course, but I realized their noteworthiness tonight. These aren't the first works of art signs to grace their doors, but they are pretty fantastic. And also a little perplexing.

This is the sign on Noah's door, made for him by Jackson. This sign is all about keeping it simple and to the point.


And this is the sign on Jackson's door... which is very pointed, but in no way simple.


Dare I say we'd all be better off without Bandits, Nazis, Demonds, and Dill Pickles waltzing through our bedroom doors? I don't know about you, but the last thing I want walking in my room is Dog Poop.

Noah, however, is welcomed anytime.

An Open Letter to the Law Firm of Riddle & Associates

My name is Piper, and there is no one named Britney Plum living in my house. She's not a relative, she's not a friend, she's not a vagabond holed up in my garage. I don't know anyone named Britney Plum, and I've tried to tell you this, for more than two years.

'You' call my house with an 'important message' for Britney Plum everyday. You are a recording, your numerical code prompts don't lead to a live human's voice, and you leave the same two-minute-long message on my answering machine everyday. You even call my house on Sunday mornings. This is out of control.

The really interesting thing is that at some point you added a legalese type clause at the end of your recording which states that it's illegal for me to listen to your message if, in fact, I am not Britney Plum. Asinine isn't a big enough word for you and your rigamarole operation.

My levels of infuriation with the law firm of Riddle & Associates waxes and wanes in concordance with the current state of my exceedingly tolerant and patient demeanor, which is why I continue to mostly ignore you. I long ago tired of attempting to stop your calls, I know there is nothing I can do except change my phone number.

I refuse to change my home phone number though, because I should not have to spend my hard earned money to change it, when my only qualm stems from you wasting money calling my house.

Who's money are you wasting? I swear, if I find out that your 'establishment' is spending tax dollars of any kind, I will sick my boyfriend and his colleagues on you so fast it'll make your empty thick head spin.

***

Speaking of my boyfriend, did you read the incredible things he wrote about me? He's amazing and disarmingly dreamy, isn't he? I'm a lucky girl to be so loved. I swoon continually.

She Pleases Me

Mark here - perhaps you remember me from such informative earlier blog posts such as I-don't-know-what. Regardless, I have commandeered Piper's blogspace again because I want to talk about her some, but I'm too lazy to bother with getting my own. She's kind to me that way.


I think most of the things I would choose to tell you about our little Piper you may have already gleaned from her earlier posts, if you've been a consistent reader, but I feel that a summation from an outside albeit entirely consumed-by-bias poster might make for some entertaining light reading. Maybe not, I dunno, but hey look! There's a link to Momo's blog; she's probably has something going on. Oh wait, I can't do that yet, I'm still writing this.

A couple of quick things (this is by no means a comprehensive list, I'd need a lot more time and copious amounts of caffeine) that please me so about Piper...

Pleasing issue the first: She shares my faith. She and I grew up in very similar circumstances and have consistent religious backgrounds. I know in this day and age it's kind of passé, what with faith and religion getting on pop culture's no-no list, but the fact that she and I look at the world through very similar windows makes the picture clearer for us both.

Pleasing issue the second: She never shirks from her responsibilities and she feels them so very deeply. In a day and age where selfishness is the norm not the exception, she has subsumed her natural desires to please herself and diverted them into the care and raising of two extraordinary boys. I know, in the not too distant past, this kind of behavior was not lauded or commented on; it was expected. But I think recent history is replete with the notion that one's responsibilities and duties are easily rejected, if one is so inclined. Piper came from a place where the right thing was done, regardless of the personal cost. I don't think she knows any other way to be. And my respect for her and my delight in the boys she's raised relatively solo is unbound.


She and her experiences are one of Life's Little Miracles. The everyday triumphs and glories that can so easily get lost in the shuffle. The everpresent miracles, so common, yet I'm sure each of us in our turn appreciate them for what they truly are, even if we don't every day. The sunrise, the smile of a child, the yawning flower, and the tired stoop of the girl run ragged all day. She sometimes stands like that when she thinks I'm not looking. Bent, like the reed, but never broken. And with an iron bar for a spine, hence the back pains. Yes, she bends. But she never breaks. And I love her for it.

Speaking of little miracles, I also love her photos. Most of you know Piper is quite a photographer. I like her stuff so much because I think she sees these little miracles in so many commonish things, and yet, because she sees them, she has to capture them, and because of that, I get to see them too. It's an interesting way to peer into her mind, do you see?

There are other things that I adore so much about her, the constellations of freckles that are smattered about her body, the expressiveness in her face. I swear, that girl can't hide an emotion to save her life and I think it's wonderful. The way she looks at me. The things she says about me and about us. These are things I leave purposefully vague because they are mine and I treasure them. I hope you understand.

I also hope you've enjoyed my ramblings. I'm sure Piper will be along soonish for more Adventures in Piperville. Thanks for reading.

Fun Photos From My Phone

I had my cell phone for a really long time before I started using the camera in it. I'm not sure why, especially considering how much great stuff there is to capture on short notice. I use my phone camera to take pictures of sudden things that I enjoy. Photos of things that make me smile. The quirky, odd, out-of-the-ordinary things I see.

I have so many phone photos now that I don't have room on my phone for them anymore. So, since I've been moving them off my phone and onto my hard drive, I thought I'd show them off while I'm at it.


This is my Nalgene bottle. It's covered in stickers from Wyoming. I had it at work and everyone in my office told me they'd never seen a Nalgene bottle before. That revelation sorta boggled my mind, so I took a picture of it.



The night before this photo was taken was the second time I'd seen Mark. He sent flowers to me the next day, and the card only said 'Surprise.' Mark had read on my blog that my favorite flowers are ranunculus, peonies, and lilacs, so he sent me a bouquet of them, and totally scored himself a third date.

This guy is Billy. He's a semi-homeless man who sells flowers he gets from a florist when they are wilted. He comes frequently, but I didn't have any cash that day. I asked him if he wanted a drink, he did, so I gave him two. I asked if I could take his picture, because he makes me smile, and also because he is a sight to behold.



Extreme close-up, for no other reason than taking an extreme close-up of my face. I was also trying to decide if I enjoyed that lip tint, I think.



This one really speaks for itself, doesn't it? Everyone knows there's no other way to badass up an old brown beater than adding some horns. I double dare you to mess with this bull!



This is my boys having a food fight. Okay, not really, but it looks like it. It's actually just really just bad table manners.



Mark sent me flowers last week, but for no reason this time. They were more beautiful that the first he sent, and the card said 'Do I Really Need A Reason?'



This is all the over-joyed people I saw at the DMV when I was waiting to get my Oklahoma drivers license.



And this is the pretty sunset I saw while walking at the park, and Mark smooched my very happy face in front of it.

Three Years of Fourth's in Photos

I realized this morning that I have three years of July 4th celebration photo's on my computer. That means this is my third year of blogging my 4th of July, too. That's pretty cool, if you ask me.

So, I decided to create a little montage of these 4th of July photos past and present. Oh, the places I've been.

July 4th, 2007. I was in Wyoming, floating the Snake, boating on Jackson Lake, and fishing up the Gros Ventre. It was grand!

July 4th, 2008. I went to float the James River in Missouri with Carie and Brad. It was the BEST weekend, and more fun than is probably legal.

July 4th, 2009. My boys are with me this year, for the first time in several years. We've done and seen more fireworks this week than my boys have seen in their entire lives, and it's not over yet. Of all the fourth's I've had, and I've had some fourth's, this year holds the sweetest memories, for sure, even if my ears don't stop ringing until next year.

My boys and I wish you and yours a very happy, safe, and fun Independance Day 2009.

Here's to the pictures that give us memories for a lifetime.

God bless America!

Heads Up, I'm Throwing You A Fast One

I have an hour to sit here and type, and about three months of stuff I'd like to write about. Can I do it? If I banish my normal long winded-ness and implement some sort of short-and-sweet regulations then I might be able to. Let's see if I can pull it off.

A few words about my sweet boys -

Jackson finished 4th grade, with straight A's and several awards. While absolutely fantastic, I'm not really surprised. Jackson is the smartest child I have ever known, like, for real. He's the youngest kid in his grade, but he has the highest math and reading scores of the entire 4th grade. The fact that this remarkable child came from me in any way, it's nothing short of amazing.

He's also going to be 10 soon, which means I'm the mother of a pre-teen (can you say scary?).

He's an orange belt in Karate now, but he's decided that basketball will be his game. He's been to two basketball camps so far this summer, and he's still into it, so I think he's serious. (this is all good with me, btw, it means no games in the rain, wind, or blazing sun. also, since b-ball was my game, I feel like I know what's up a little bit, which is also good.)

The only tragic news is that Jackson has decided he doesn't want to skateboard anymore. He started skating when he was 6, when he was 7 he was dropping in bowls at the skatepark. But, when he was 8 he got a concussion in the big bowl at Mat Hoffman's, which you can read about here, and ever since he's been very reluctant to ride. I'm efforting to not make a big deal about it, and support his decision to play ball, but truthfully, I'm a pretty sad about it. After all, I'm the Betty without a board, even still.

Little Noah is so darling that it's very hard for me not to eat him. He is 5.5 now, but his wisdom is that of a 70 year old. He blows me away all the time with the depths of his compassion and humor and sincerity (I like to think he gets this from his mother, because I'm not sure where else it would have come from). He's doing big boy things now, like going to basketball camp for the first time, and advancing to the kindergarten Sunday School class.

He lost his first tooth, baked a cake all by himself (sorta), and folds his own laundry (sorta). He's almost a big-boy swimmer now too, but after his swimming lessons he'll be hitting the pool like Michael Phelps (sorta).

Noah's favorite things are soldier guys (aka those little green Army men), and a Star Wars game, but what he loves more than anything is his Granny (much like me in that regard). This photo was taken while he was talking on the phone to my mom (I love it so much it hurts me), he tells her things that he won't tell me and that's okay.

My boys are at their dad's house right now, they've been there for a week. I miss them so much, it's almost excruciating. But, it's summertime, and I've come to get used to the fact that they will be with him half the summer. I don't really get to talk to them while they're away, but I know they are having fun. I will devour them when they come back home again, and enjoy every moment with them until they leave again (in two short weeks, for two long weeks).

(yes, I realize there was nothing really short-and-sweet about any of that. carrying on now, to absolute short-and-sweet.)

I just got back from a trip to the lake. Mark's family reunion was at Lake Tenkiller, and we had such a great time. I met almost all of his family, played in the water, sang karaoke like a rockstar, and fell in love with Mark in exciting new ways. It was wonderful trip.

Also, I finally got my Oklahoma drivers license today. By 'finally' I mean it's two years overdue, and by 'today' I mean that my heart burst open and spilled all over the floor of the DMV, like a sad long-faced puppy.

By 'overdue' I mean I've lived in Oklahoma for more than two years now, and have pretty much refused to surrender my Wyoming drivers license until today. It's silently gut-wrenching. It's like saying goodbye to Jackson all over again, and letting go of the last bit of proof that I lived there, and it broke my heart a little bit.

I wanted to mourn more than I did, but I didn't. I didn't because I realized how happy I am here, even though that concept - being happy in Oklahoma - has been really hard for me to fathom.

I think my happiness has a lot to do with this though...

It's pretty incredible how good life is these days. I would be remiss if I didn't blurt out a big 'God, you're so awesome, thanks for everything!'


Oh, and since Momo just reminded me, BlogHer is but a mere 27 days away now. I'm so not ready yet, as much as I am ready to go. My plan for this weekend is to shop. I'm going to shop like Emery shops, and hit every amazing resale shop in this huge city. I'm determined to be fantastically sublime, if at all possible.

Can't Get it Out of My Head and Don't Want To

I wrote this paragraph a few weeks ago, and haven't stopped thinking about it since. I wrote it as an answer to three things that inspire me most.

It could be the sweetest, most love-filled, tear-jerking, truest thing I've ever written. I didn't realize at the time how much depth and meaning there was in it.

***
Anything reminiscent of the childhood I shared with my grandparents. A tiny country church with rows of hard wooden pews that hold worn hymnals in their backs, and tissue boxes on the ends. A lilac hedge. Purple iris and daisies. Pancakes on Saturday morning and fried chicken for Sunday supper. The hum of a sewing machine. The taps and pings of tools made of wood. A redheaded woodpecker diligently hammering its hollow oak home. Anything that evokes those sweet moments of my youth fill my heart with something so wholesome that the only thing I can do is 'create' something emotional.. that's likely to be a dancy ballerina jig, or a singy-song, or a handwritten letter to someone loved.. all the while pushing the tiny tears in the corners of my eyes with my knuckle, and whispering gratitude for my memories.

***


I also still miss my grandmother so much sometimes that I can't breathe.

1998

Because It's Friday And She Loves Me

Today I was featured on Doobleh-Vay, as part of Amy's It's Friday I'm in Love/Inspire Me series.

Everyone who reads me already knows how much I love her, but I'm happy to say it again. Amy is fabulous and I cherish her. Her talent is unmatched, and I'm the luckiest chick in the whole bloggy hen house to have met and connected with her. Being splashed about on her blog, and touted as inspirational to her, is such a tremendous honor.

Follow the bliss... to her blog... and read the wonderful things she said about me.

Happy Friday! (I'm in love with Amy)

(also check out littlealouette, Amy's Etsy shop. it'll make you wish you had a baby, like it does me.)

My Frustrating Blog Issue

Something funky is going on with my blog. For the last week, or so, I haven't been able to open my blog on my computer. Well, sometimes I can, but within a few minutes I get a warning pop-up window that says Internet Explorer cannot open my site and must close.

I know, I know, I can already hear the Firefox fans approaching, waving their banners like an 'I told you so' mob.

Yes, it's true, I can still access my blog just fine through Firefox. That's how I'm typing this post as a matter of fact. But I'm just not a Firefox fan. I know a million people who are, but I'm used to IE, it's what I know. Call me a creature of habit, but I actually really like Internet Explorer. I need to figure out what the heck's happening and remedy it.

Plus, Firefox makes things look different on my monitor. The difference is minimal, but I like to see things the way I want to see them. Also, it's less smooth with the scrolling and opening new tabs is hard. (piddly differences are very valid in my world)

Another thing that's a concern is that I'm getting almost no traffic at all. This could be due to my few-and-far-between posts, I know, but even still, I've never had almost no traffic before. This is making me wonder if other people are having a hard time opening my blog too?

The good news is that after insidiously voicing my heated fury over this frustration, by way of rage-like tweets, a savior emerged. The incomparable and divine Judith Shakespeare popped in, as if she was sent from God himself, and graciously offered to spruce up my pad. I gladly and freely give her free range over my digs, she's amazing. This blog has been lacking, and wanting, and needing, a new vibe for a long time.

It's going to feel so good to have a better blog! I'm so stoked that even if I'm forced to blog via Firefox from now on, I think I'll be okay.

Plus, BlogHer is now just 40 days away, and holy crap that's soon. I'm more than excited. I hope to fill in some blanks in coming posts, but there's much behind the scenes prep-work happening right now. Not to mention the party RSVP's (see sidebar for boasting bling) and the shopping and the periodic uncontrollable squeeing. This is an event I've been looking forward to for more than a year, and it's finally here.

I'll be meeting every single blogger I know, pretty much, and that's A LOT. But my roommates are the coolest chicks in the blogosphere. After Momo Fali, Amy of Dooblehvay, and Amy of Pretty Babies and I hit Chicago, that city will never be the same.

I'm going to wrap up this random post with a question. Do you ever have trouble opening my blog?

(if you can answer this than your answer will probably be 'no', I know, but please help a girl out if you can)

How Sweet Little Noah Got A Big Fat Lip

Poor little Noah had a rough week. First he wakes up with a wicked toothache, then he ended up with a great big lip. He's probably the cutest kid with a fat lip that there ever was though, I'm pretty sure.

Sunday night he woke me up telling me his tooth hurt really bad. When I looked in his mouth I could see the cavity, it was ugly just to look at so I knew it was bad. How is it that a little boy can have such a gnarly tooth and his mommy not realize it? Don't tell me the answer, okay? I have enough guilt already.

My mom took him to the dentist for me on Tuesday. Evidently, he didn't just have a cavity, his tooth was abscessed, and his gums were full of puss. The dentist had to pull his tooth. I've never seen such ginormous roots on a baby tooth before. (evidently he gets this from my mom. according to my her, she has the bigger roots on her teeth than normal people do)

I'm surprised the dentist was able to keep Noah still for the extraction. He's not a child with anything resembling a pain tolerance. Normally, hydrogen peroxide alone is enough to bring the spinning earth to a complete stop until I can coerce the placement of a band aid. Noah was so brave though, he barely even flinched. The three numbing shots they gave him, along with the gas, was enough.

This was Noah's first experience with numbing. I think he was given enough Novocaine to put down a horse though, because he had no idea what he was doing as he sat chewing holes through his lip on the way home.

He didn't feel anything at all until later that night, and then he was really hurting. The Tylenol helped a bit, but it was my announcement that the Tooth Fairy would visit him for the first time that night which made everything all better.

I don't think the Tooth Fairy ever came for me when the dentist pulled my teeth, but exceptions were definitely warranted in this case.

He kissed his tooth box before he put it under his pillow. Then he made a request. He said he didn't want the Tooth Fairy to take the blue box, just the tooth. I told him that I would tell her, and he was very pleased.

It's several days after the fact now, and his lip is still puffy. He's on an antibiotic, and he's moderately traumatized even still. I'm guessing this won't bode well for future dentist visits, but at least the Tooth Fairy got it right, unlike this time.