The wrong video store December 14, 2009

Some of you may remember a certain detour I made a while back when I visited “The Wrong Sister Thompson.” 

This time, I returned Night of the Museum not to the Blockbuster where we picked it up, but to the local Movie Gallery instead.  Matt, who is used to these sorts of escapades, promptly righted my wrong after a call from Blockbuster tipped him off.

I did feel assuaged, however, when he said Movie Gallery pulled my Blockbuster video from a cabinet holding many others, and asked him to sign under a long list of other names- citizens affirming that they, too, had lost their way…

Lost September 5, 2009

As evidence I’m a little too busy around here lately, here’s a list of things I’ve lost this week. 

my address book

my drivers license

four of our five binkis (including one bought two Sundays ago)

one set of keys

receipt needed to submit for reimbursement

the book I was reading

the magazine I was reading

the diaper I got out this morning and never saw again

a package of dried berries

the list of things to do

You might be worried about me (you probably should be), but the person in need of the most sympathy is actually my husband- by default, he becomes the seeker of all things lost. 

Now- has anyone seen my mind?

Besties July 12, 2009

Did you hear this new word yet?  “Besties?”  How far behind am I that I just caught wind of it a couple weeks ago?  Anyway, this is the best description for a special bond I’m enjoying in my life.  Our connection may have been formed only recently, but I can assure you that this relationship definitely falls in the BFF category.  Who is this special person, you ask?  Who has me gushing so?  Well, person may not be the right term.  No, my heart has been captured by a new piece of hardware.  Take a look.  Here it is in all it’s glory:

 

It may look like just a simple gate to you, but this  sturdy contraption closes off my kitchen from my living room.  How did this result in such a mad love affair?  Well, just imagine- I can cook in relative peace (see the hooligans on the other side).

 

 Eliza’s swing (now in the kitchen) can actually serve it’s purpose.

 

And best of all, I don’t have to stand new the table while nursing to try and prevent Levi’s acrobatics (see our previos post, “Levi’s New Trick”) from resulting in stickifying my newly mopped floor, or worse, producing a concussion. 

Yes, the passion I feel for my new gate makes me want to shout from the rooftops- Everyone needs a “Besty!!!” (Can I use “Besties that way, or am I just showing my age now?)

Chicago April 25, 2009

In February, I suddenly realized that I hadn’t gone anywhere without a child in 3 yrs (Samantha’s age), and that come May, I’d be nursing for another year.  Quickly approaching the mark in pregnancy when they won’t let you fly, I called a friend, and said- let’s go somewhere! 

Not real enthused about the idea of being mistaken for a whale in dire straights, I avoided all beach vacations like the plague, and settled on Chicago.    Thank Heaven for friends like Jackie who are as desparate as I am to go anywhere as long as it means nobody’s diaper will need changing.  It snowed most of the time we were there.

 

Having lived in Fort Worth and Austin, I never considered myself a country girl, but I gotta say… Chicago made me reevaluate.   Having decided on a restaurant for dinner that first night, we hailed a cab, gave hime the address, and were on our way.  When he stops in the road in front of the restaurant, I paid the cabby, who conveniently took his tip from the bill I handed him- almost 30% of the tab.   I almost asked for change, but shrugged it off, and went to opened door.  I could hear he was saying something loudly in a very heavy accent, but it took a while to process, “watch out for the bicycle.  As a side note, I’d like you to know that  every person we encountered in Chicago seemed to be from a different country.    Anyway, I opened the door right into a man on a bike who stumbled, and laid his bike down. 

I felt terrible.  I asked if he was okay, but he was very busy yelling at me and  the cabby that we needed to watch out.  Mr 30%  immediately starts saying he told me, warned me… I didn’t listen.  I wanted my tip back, but I had to admit this was my fault.   So this goes on for a minute or two – me asking if he’s okay, offering to call for medical assistance, telling him it was my fault (not the cabby’s), and him just yelling at both of us.  Then some girl shows up saying she’s part of some bike organization, and that he can sue the cabby if he wants.  She writes down the number of the cab, saying he’s supposed to pull up to the sidewalk, that I need to be more careful; I could kill someone like that.  Off drives the cabby, and I still don’t know if the man is injured.  When all is said and done, turns out the man thinks he’s okay, and rides away.  As we walk up to the restaurant we have so carefully chosen, and maimed womeone to get to, we see the sign:  Closed for renovations.  Chicago was not looking very hospitable.

Despite the rough start, we did have a good time.  Here we are at the Field Museum. If you’re ever in chicago, don’t miss this.  Nerd that I am, it really was bliss to wander around the exhibits of natural history.  Among many other things, we saw a special exhibit on the Aztecs, and toured an ancient Egypt exhibit with a life-size model of a tomb.  We probably needed another ten hours in there just to see the exhibits on the other levels.  We missed out on one exhibit about a slave ship turned pirate ship, but we had to take this picture.

Jackie convinced me se should see the Sears Tower, which I could have cared less about, but when it was all said and done, I was so glad we went.  The view was just spectacular, and being up there was fun.  It ended up being one of my favorite things we did.

 

The Wrong Sister Thompson July 28, 2008

A few days after the Lowe’s run, I had cause to wonder if I had lost my mind. 

I was excited to go visit a Sister Thompson, a clever, funny widow from church.  Since it was my first time to her house, I looked up the address in my roster, googled the directions, and called on my way to let her know I was coming.

When I arrived, I was surprised to find an underwear-clad older gentleman answer the door.  He was very friendly; infact, he was so preoccupied talking to the cute baby in my arms, he asked me to repeat myself when I suggested that perhaps I had the wrong address. 

Back in the car seat Levi went, and out he came when I went to knock at the house one street down.  Again, a very nice older gentlemen answered the door, but this time I was glad to recognize him.  How coicindental that Brother Sutherland and I should both be visiting at the same time.  And there was Sister Sutherland, very comfortably preparing black-eyed peas in the kitchen with no Sister Thompson in sight.  Now this was odd. 

When I told them I’d come to see Sister Thompson, Brother Sutherland says she’s lying down, that he’ll see if she’s awake.  Moments later, a kind older woman emerged from the back; I recognized her from church as Sister Sutherland tells her I’ve come to visit with her. She stood cooing at my baby, as I thought to myself:  this wasn’t the Sister Thompson I was expecting.  This was shaping up to be a rather interesting morning. 

Though I arrived tardy to the original Sister Thompson’s home, she let me in, accepted the basil plant I brought, and loved my Levi as much as the other Grandmas and Grandpas that day.

I might have thought about there being more than one Sister Thompson when I looked up the address, but then, I’d have to be “with it” as they say, and as most of you already understand, “with it,” I am not. 

Next time I go visiting, maybe I’ll ask Matt to be my chauffeur.

What $15.09 can buy at Lowes July 28, 2008

Last week, I was that lady with the screaming baby in line ahead of some unsuspecting customer. I needed to get some things transplanted, so even though I knew I was asking a lot from my tired little Levi, we stopped by Lowe’s for one last errand.  

In the middle of it all, Sam announced she had to go potty.   (Why is the bathroom always on the other side of the store?)  So balancing a baby on the brink of dispair, I manage to get her wiped and return the child, fully dressed, to the shopping cart.  Back at the plants, we quickly pick out some very nice pots- two 12″ planters, one $3.97; the other $8.97.  

Thrilled to be walking out without spending a fortune, I whisk my little ones off to the parking lot.  We get stuck in a little traffic, but we’re home in time for a quick bath before bed…  And that’s when I realized I left my pots in the parking lot at Lowes.

So while I reccomend these nice planters, just a note:  don’t forget to take them with you when you leave!

PBS Nerd July 21, 2008

I confess- I am a huge PBS nerd. Though I try really hard to be normal, every once in a while it’s obvious that I’m one of those people.  I have vowed to keep my abnormally passionate opinions to myself- at least here.  So both of the films below are just good, thought provoking documentaries that I couldn’t get off my mind.  While it isn’t likely that very many of you will enjoy them as much as this PBS nerd, I hope you get a chance to take a look just the same. 

One is a documentary of a woman who is the descendant of slave traders, the DeWolfe family, here in America; the film captures her experiences as she and other family members explore their ancestor’s lives.   I was riveted  as along the way, they examined the role America’s current generation of white Americans might play in starting a dialogue about slavery and racism in this country.  Here’s a link:  http://www.pbs.org/previews/pov-tracesofthetrade/

Looks like you can view clips, and learn more about the family here:

http://www.tracesofthetrade.org/ 

So the other film is about El Paso, and what some feel was a misstep in trying to raise money for the city by displaying a statue of a conquistador responsible for the near elimination of an entire tribe of Native American peoples.  His image, inspiring pride and patriotism for many hispanics, was evidence to others of ambivalence to what they felt were historical war crimes.  The statue stands completed now- the tallest bronze equestrian statue in the world.  ( For those of you with fancier TV options than myself, the film airs again in our area Tuesday at 2am).   http://www.pbs.org/pov/pov2008/lastconquistador/about.html

Lost and Found June 22, 2008

I think my keys willfully defy my possession.  One bagger boy helping the woman next to me was tipped off by my routine key search the other day.  He went to check the register, and the lost and found while I began crawling around in the car, my not-so-small rear end raised far higher into public view than it ever should be. 

 Whether a grand miracle, a testament to my parenting skills, or just evidence that this happens frequently, Sam is standing quietly next to the car- no whining or crying in the scorching heat, entertaining Levi.  Good thing, beacause I’m determined this key must be found, but when Bagger Boy returns- no dice.  I head in to retrace my steps, and assure Bagger Boy that we’ll be fine, but you’re about to discover that this is no ordinary bagger boy.

I get Sam a little som’-som’ for her trouble.  (I only hesitated a moment before using food as an incentive).  Now if she gets fat, she can blame her food issues on me.  Anyway,  I’m telling my daughter what a unique opportunity we have to test our memories (I think she was a little weirded out when I said a prayer out loud next to the cuccumbers) when Bagger Boy reappears, offering to bring my cold groceries into the cooler.   Sam and I move on to the cheeses, but meet Bagger Boy again on our way toward the the milk.  He has spoken with the grocery managers of each section- they haven’t seen jack.

I begin wondering how much Bagger Boy gets paid- this kid is on a mission.  I thank him again, and move to the canned goods. 

Me: If I don’t find it, I can call my husband. 

Bagger Boy: Is he gonna be mad?  Does he have the copy? 

Me: He’s pretty even tempered; we’ve been married a while, too, so he’s accepted that I lose almost everything.  I lost the only other copy just last week. 

Geeze, I didn’t mean to frighten the poor boy!   Upon sharing these personal tidbits with Bagger Boy, I wonder aloud: Is your manager okay with you helping us? 

Apparently, said manager is aware, and Bagger Boy is here to the end.  Oh, well; searching under shelves holding a baby now clearly communicating his hunger wasn’t exactly easy by myself.  At the other end of the store empty-handed, I give Matt a call, and inform Bagger Boy I’ll just wait.  When he insists on checking the car one more time, though, I accept.  

I stop once again at the free sticker machine, and apologize to my little girl again.  “That okay, mommy.  Sometimes that happen you lose your key.  Sometimes it does.”  As I wonder what I did to deserve her, I look up to find Bagger Boy coming into view waving the key in his hand.  Super Bagger Boy!!! 

I have just one question:  Is this key the one I lost that morning, or the copy I misplaced before?

I’ll have to check HEB’s lost and found tomorrow.