So, my birthday was Tuesday. I am now 40. Which I understand is the new 30. Whatever that means.


In addition to the fun of having a good friend from Florida in town Tuesday and Wednesday, I also got to go out on the town with James Tuesday night. My out of town friend hung out with my kids. She also did laundry, cleaned the kitchen and pruned my flowers. Coming to visit me is always a good time! Kim took this picture of the family as James and I were heading out the door for dinner.

Over dinner James gave me a card from some of my good friends. In it was a sweet note, with a confession. They have been in cahoots with James for some time now, planning a long get-a-way weekend for me. Instigated by James, who is well aware that I am always on the brink of loosing my sanity. Once the reality that they had planned this sunk in, so many things started to make sense. Like why, a month ago, when my friends were loosely discussing my 40th with me and I said I didn't even know what day it was on my friend Marjorie shot out, "It's on a Tuesday." When I looked at her quizzically she gave me some lame reason she knew that.

They included an itinerary in my card so I would know how to pack. They have lovingly included all the things that I enjoy, namely lots of time to hang out and antique shopping.

And I plan to wear these as often as I can.

Lucchese Cowgirl Boots. A gift from my parents. LOVE. THEM.

The boys wanted to send me off thinking of them so this morning they did what they do best:

broke something. It's my prized glass pineapple. I was momentarily sad. Then I went upstairs to pack.

I had a professor in seminary, an old guy who actually knew Albert Einstein (no, really), who used to always say, "I love my wife, but. . . " The 'but' was normally followed by something like, ". . . boy, sometimes she drives me crazy." He always said it with a big smile on his face and we, his students, knew that he adored the woman more than he could express.

In this psychotherapeutically driven culture we live in we are told we should not use 'but' because it just cancels out what precedes the 'but' and what's left is how you really feel. We should use 'and' instead. "I love my kids and they drive me crazy sometimes!"

I get it. I really do. BUT sometimes you just gotta use the 'but.' And it's my blog so I can use 'but' if I want to, 'but' if I want to. . .

My life right now is pretty centered around the troublesome trio. It's how I want it. It's how James and I want it. Me home with them, rather than working, while they are young. But, man, it's draining. Really draining. Each of them in different ways suck the life right out of me. That's what happens when an extreme introvert is called to parent extroverts - two of which are off the charts!

I love my time home with the boys, but as of late I am craving something more. I also am happy with the choices and sacrifices we have made for me to be able to stay home, but my creative juices feel a bit stifled as a result. And by 'creative' I do not mean 'crafty.' Nope, I am not crafty. Not even a little bit. But I do like to play around with my home decor. That's where any creativity I have comes out. However, when on a tight budget it's harder to hit the antique stores the way I would like. And while I know it would be super fun to go antiquing with three small boys I just don't have it in me.

Maybe it's the dog days of summer that has me feeling like I need to add something to the mix. Or maybe it's turning 40. Turning 40 with small children.

So, I have been looking for ways to spice things up a bit without killing our budget or taking me away from home too often. Tomorrow I have a meeting with the Director of Daybreak Crisis Pregnancy Center. They are looking for volunteers to spend time with their clients. Women, often very young women, who are pregnant and scared and looking for some hope. I am excited about giving some of my time to a cause that is important to me. And I am super excited about tapping into the thinking part of my brain. Woohoo! And James is happy to work his schedule out so that I can do this. He thinks he can get some work done at home while I am out. I will just let him go on thinking that, he'll find out the truth soon enough.

As far as the other stuff. Filling my need to change, update, mix-up my home decor. . . I am finding some outlets for that, too. Paint! I'm pretty much going to paint anything I can get my hands on. And nobody's gonna stop me. Pics to come soon.

I'm not much of a talker.


Though I can get chatty, especially when I get nervous and/or am surrounded by other non-talkers. It's a lovely quality. The more nervous and uncomfortable I feel, the more I ramble on about absolute nonsense. An attempt to fill the palpably awkward space between me and the poor person in front of me.


One time in graduate school I offered to pick up my roommate's good friend from the airport. She was a childhood friend who was more like a sister, and was coming for a long planned visit. I was excited to finally meet the girl who starred in the stories I'd been hearing all semester. So, while my roommate was in class, I made the trek to the Orlando airport to pick her up. For some reason, I became increasingly anxious about meeting 'A.' By the time I arrived at the airport I was a ball of nerves. After meeting and getting on the road to head home the chatting started. Man oh man, did it start. I really wish I could remember what I went on about but I can't. I have blocked it from my memory. What I do remember is that I talked and talked and talked and was paying no attention to my driving. At some point I looked up and had no idea where I was. I had missed my exit on the Beeline and was in a part of Orlando I wasn't familiar with. I then chattered on about that to 'A' who must have felt like she had stepped into a bad dream. I confessed my weakness then pulled off to a gas station to ask an attendant for directions. We eventually made it home, only one hour late.



But nervous chatter aside, I really am not much of a talker. And in my house, it is becoming increasingly clear that there isn't room for me to be a talker anyway. So it works out just fine.



Spinner does ALL the talking. He is a true talker. The kind that moves from one topic to another with ease and only an occasional pause to inhale.



While at the grocery checkout yesterday Spinner began a "conversation" with the clerk. It was pretty one sided going something like this, as he put the ground beef on the counter. . .



I like this meat. I like it cooked, for hamburgers. Hamburgers are my favorite food. I just love them and have them as much as I can. Hamburgers come from cows so I guess I like cows too but my papa doesn't have any cows on his farm, he just has horses. Buck and Beau. But we don't eat horse meat. We just ride the horses. And scoop their poop. Sometimes I help my papa scoop horse poop, he even made me my own pooper scooper. It's just my size. But it smells, boy does it smell. My Non says that horse poop is good for the garden and will help the flowers to grow big. Hey, we just bought some more flowers for my mom's garden. I am going to help her plant them. My favorite part is watering them because then I can play with the hose. My brother Tank really likes to play with the hose too. Yesterday when mom was watering her flowers she kept spraying me and Tank and we would run away and then come closer, Tank kept asking for more but he was scared too because he would hide behind me. It was so funny. . . it was awesome. But Bean, he doesn't like to be sprayed with the hose. But he sure does love taking a bath!

Clerk: looking at Spinner in disbelief, with a partial smile and partial jaw drop. . . Wow. Ma'am? If you will slide your card now.

Spinner, to the Clerk: Do you like hamburgers?



Hmmmm, maybe Spinner and I are more alike than I thought.

Lately, I have been a magnet for bizarre, somewhat inappropriate, and most unwelcome comments from total strangers. This week alone I received two such comments.

First, early in the week while out with my three boys, minding my own business, trying to keep them from antagonizing each other and screaming too loudly in public, I noticed a woman watching us. All you moms that have kids with Down syndrome know what I'm talking about. I smiled at her, not yet sure if she was a friend or foe of Ds.

Turns out she wasn't looking at Bean. She was looking at me. And wondering about my age. "Are these your boys?" she asked. I told her yes, to which she replied, "They are so young. You must have started late, huh?"

Uhhh, yes, I guess I did. Thank you very much, perfect stranger, for pointing that out.



And then, this afternoon, walking through the parking lot of the grocery store, again, minding my own business, a man two steps behind me said, "whatchyou so stressed about?"

Looking around, wondering who he was talking to, I raised my eyebrows. Pardon?

He went on, "I said, whatchyou so stressed about. You sure got lotsa gray hair. How'd you get that? What's got you so stressed out?"

Seriously? Seriously? Did this man really just say that to me? I wanted to stop dead in my tracks and tell him what has given me each and every gray hair so I could enjoy his stunned silence and hopefully teach him to keep his thoughts to himself. But instead I chuckled and gave him some inane answer about it either being my boys or genetics.

What is it that makes people say such things to perfect strangers? If you know, please, fill me in.


On the flip side, I have received a very nice compliment recently. I received it right here in the blogosphere. From Cheryl of Ruby's Life.

She bestowed upon me an award. The "lovey award."

What is the lovey award? Here is the description I lifted from her site.

"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find friends and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. (although it seems a little self-aggrandizing that I am even posting this, no?) Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships will be propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. "

I'm touched, Cheryl! Thanks so much.

I'm supposed to pass this along to others but. . . I am not going to do that. Chain letters always ended with me too.

I will, however, share with you some of the blogs I enjoy reading regularly. Check them out when you have time.

Confessions of a Pioneer Woman - I have been reading Ree's blog for at least two years now. When I found her she received around 3-400 comments a day. Now she receives thousands upon thousands. Check her out and you will see why.

C Jane and NieNie are sisters. They are mormon and speak about their faith often. That is not what I find fascinating. I enjoy C Jane's tongue in cheek writing style and her sister Nie, well, you need to read through her archives to learn her story. It is heartbreaking and hope filled all at the same time.

ivy mae - I know this gal from our years in Florida. She and her husband now live in Charleston, SC. I love reading about all her projects from the kitchen to the garden to sewing and knitting. She writes with wit and throws in great stories about her high school literature students. Oh and her husband, Mr. Mae, is the photographer. Great team.

The Meanest Mom - Great and hysterical take on parenting and mothering.

not that you asked - this is the only blogger on my list that has a child with Down syndrome. (though there are tons out there that I read and enjoy) I like reading Beth because she is thoughtful, honest, and humble. She almost always makes me think. Maybe I like her because some of the things she wrestles with regarding the world of disabiltiy and down syndrome I relate to, and it makes me feel not so alone.

~
~

But my dear, sweet, thoughtful husband who is so deliberate about caring for me decided what I really needed was time to myself. (I love that he understands my introversion and doesn't think I am a freak.) And moreover, he sent me to a place I have long dreamed of staying. The Grove Park Inn Resort and Spa in Asheville, NC. James and I have made it a habit of dropping by the Grove Park Inn every time we are in this area. We hang out in their Grand Hall, have a drink and watch the sunset over the mountains while rocking on their fabulous back terrace.

Then we head out to more affordable accommodations.

So, James, in all his kindness, decided I needed a break from this. . .

and needed to enjoy a little bit of this. . .

As if staying at this amazing mountainside resort (ALONE) weren't enough, James scheduled spa treatments for me in their nationally ranked spa. It was divine! Their spa experience is unlike anything I have ever taken part in. From start to finish I was pampered and the amenities available pre and post treatment were just as relaxing as the treatments themselves.

In addition to spa treatments, sunsets, and good old fashioned solitude, I enjoyed wandering in and out of some of my favorite antique shops and adding some new spots to my list. I also got to visit with some old friends that live in the area. What a treat!

And now, I sit here, in an Asheville coffee shop, waiting for 5 o'clock to roll around. That's when I will head to Windy Gap and meet up with my four guys. We have all been invited to attend the Young Life camp this weekend and stay in one of their family cabins as a guest of the camp director. This will be such fun for the boys.

Time away is good. It is necessary. It refreshes and renews. It offers perspective. And at the same time it always makes me long to be home, with my family. I'm so grateful to have a husband who understands all that. I cannot wait to step back into the chaos with them this afternoon!!

If you frequent the blogosphere then you are familiar with the meme. If you don't then I will give a brief explaination. The whole idea behind being "tagged" for a meme is to share your ideas, thoughts, experiences, or just answer a set of questions, whatever the meme requires, and then tag others to do the same. Here is a more formal definition of an internet meme. I suppose some would say one has not been truly indoctrinated into the blogosphere until tagged for a meme.

Now I am normally not one to jump on board with these things. Not because I am a party pooper but because I don't feel like I have much of interest to share. But this time I will play because the fun and cool Tina tagged me and well, I wouldn't want to let her down. :) And Tina, by the way, makes and sells very cute and whimsical note cards. You should check them out.

Okay, the meme. Here are the rules:
1. Link back to the person who tagged you. done
2. Post these rules on your blog. done
3. Share six unimportant things about yourself. coming up
4. Tag six random people at the end of your entry. yeah, I don't think I am going to play by this rule. Chain letters always ended with me too. Maybe I am a bit of a party pooper.

Six unimportant things about myself:

1. I like my cheeseburgers plain. Yep, my husband still doesn't get this about me. No lettuce, tomato or onion. And certainly no banana peppers, jalapeno peppers or any other peppers. I do take a smidgeon of mustard, mayo, and ketchup, don't want it dripping though. For me it is all about the meat and I don't want anything interfering with it!

2. I don't like going to the beach. I appreciate the ocean with all it's vastness and beauty. I appreciate the sounds of the waves crashing against the sand and the birds chirping over head. But that's about as far as it goes, appreciation. I don't like sitting on the beach, swimming in the ocean, making sand castles or scouring for shells. The reason? I cannot stand to have sand against my skin and I don't like feeling sticky, both of which are inescapable at the beach. Those things combined with the heat and well, that is the making of a pretty miserable experience for me. I'm a mountain girl all the way.

3. I love listening to my boys giggle with their dad. Sometimes I like to hide out in my bedroom upstairs and listen to James with the boys as they climb all over him, giggling and playing and asking for more. It is such a sweet sound.

4. I'm a wannabe singer. Now, I can't sing worth a hoot and am only as good as the person sitting next to me. So, in other words, if they can't carry a tune then I am out of luck because I can't find the note myself. But I have always had this wild dream of sitting on a small stage playing acoustic guitar (also something I cannot do) and singing for my fans, in a Nanci Griffith sort of way. Talk about a pipe dream!!

5. I have never been to Washington, D.C. I know, what a shame, huh? Maybe I will chaperone a field trip for the boys one day because I don't see traveling in my near future.

6. I don't know what I am doing with my boys most days. I just muddle through and hope I am teaching them something worthwhile and that I am not screwing them up too badly. Good enough mothering, I am all over that!

Thanks for the tag Tina, it was fun!