Ironic Impossibility... or Impossible Irony

You're looking forward to reading this one, aren't you?

You can always count on me for these sorts of things.
Fact: I am mostly always late
Hypothesis: There's nothing I can do about it.

Proof: Today as I was getting ready to leave for Bible study, on time, I mentally patted myself on the back. I was so on time. I was so on top of things. I had made my husband a fancy shmancy breakfast AND I was going to get to Bible study on time. I smiled as I grabbed my purse and reached for the recycling to take it out as I left.
It was really the beer bottle's fault. The cans and the newspaper wouldn't have done it, but the beer bottle had it out for me. It refused to be held when I picked it up and jumped out of my hand. No matter that I tried to catch it. It was determined to ruin things. The universe must have told it I was on time. It fell, crashed and shattered across the known world. Not only across the ENTIRE kitchen (ask Jon. I exaggerate not), but into the living room (carpet!!) and down the hall. It was impressive. I have to give the bottle credit for quick thinking and massive spreading potential. I knew as soon as it landed that I would be calling Brittany to tell her I was going to be late. But that wasn't really enough. The universe and the bottle (now blissfully shattered across the entire San Diego east side) must have been quite good friends, because as I was picking up large pieces (the poor Husband was getting a broom) my hand slipped and I slashed my finger right down the middle.
I stared gaping at my finger. It gaped back. Then, angrily, turned on the faucets and started spouting blood at me, at the floor and most especially at the broken glass. Cotton balls, water, bandaids and Neosporin. Brooms, paper bags and dust busters. Frantic wife, patient husband, confused dog (who got thrown in the back yard without a second glance).

I was not on time.

And now, I ask you: Is it humanly possible to be on time? Yes. Is it humanly possible for ME to be on time? No. Sadly when I'm on time I only get injured. So please tell me to be there 15 minutes before you want me. It's safer.

Babies are Like Happy Parasites

Clearly my maternal instincts haven't kicked in much yet.

I love my little 11 week old prenatal peanut. But really. I keep thinking of the time in college Sahara, then a nursing student, asked me what the difference was between a parasite and a baby. Both take nutrients first, both live inside of you, both come in from outside (well half of the baby comes in from outside, but we'll not go there). The only difference is that I WANT my baby, but I don't want a parasite. Also, once the baby is expelled (much more painfully than a parasite), the sweet thing continues to take food from the host/mom. For eighteen years.

With that said, I couldn't be more happy to be pregnant and growing a little peanut inside of me, so don't take my lunatic ravings as anything but that. :)

Also, I can't wait to start planning the nursery ... for my sweet little parasite.

Sour Gummy Worms

Today was the best Valentine's Day ever. The Husband woke me up with breakfast in bed, flowers, a bowl full of three of my favorite candies, the comics and a card that promised lemonade and cinnamon rolls in the fridge. Henry was also there, wagging his tail.
A new church visit, lunch at yogurtland (YUM!) and a Costco-membership later, we went home and watched the Olympics while Jon grilled filet mignon and potatoes. Perfect.

I also took a midterm that I didn't do so hot on, but I don't care anymore about these things, so it didn't ruin my day one bit.

I gave Jon a card with the following poem hastily scrawled on it. I hate to brag, but I really do own the best husband.

Houses of Dreams
Sara Teasdale

You took my empty dreams
and filled them every one
With tenderness and nobleness,
April and the sun

The old empty dreams
where my thoughts would throng
Are far too full of happiness
to even hold a song

Oh, the empty dreams were dim
and the empty dreams were wide
They were sweet and shadowy houses
where my thoughts could hide

But you took my dreams away
and you made them all come true
My thoughts have no place now to play
and nothing now to do.

Thank you, Jon, for the best and happiest two and a half years of my life!

I Wrote Crappy Poems in Highschool

But now I know I can't write poetry, so I happily obsess over people who can. Like Sara Teasdale. Enjoy.

Child, Child

CHILD, child, love while you can
The voice and the eyes and the soul of a man;
Never fear though it break your heart --
Out of the wound new joy will start;
Only love proudly and gladly and well,
Though love be heaven or love be hell.

Child, child, love while you may,

For life is short as a happy day;

Never fear the thing you feel --

Only by love is life made real;

Love, for the deadly sins are seven,

Only through love will you enter heave

Barter

LIFE has loveliness to sell,

All beautiful and splendid things,

Blue waves whitened on a cliff,

Soaring fire that sways and sings,

And children's faces looking up

Holding wonder like a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,

Music like a curve of gold,

Scent of pine trees in the rain,

Eyes that love you, arms that hold,

And for your spirit's still delight,

Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,

Buy it and never count the cost;

For one white singing hour of peace

Count many a year of strife well lost,

And for a breath of ecstasy

Give all you have been, or could be.

He Woke Up Anyway...

I-10 owns me.
A summary of our drive out here:

Day one: Florida, Alabama, Louisiana and Texas
Day two: Texas, Texas, Texas... and one hour of New Mexico
Day three: New Mexico, Arizona and California

Apparently they knew we were coming and wanted to make us feel welcome...

Henry wouldn't stand next to the big cactus, so here he is next to the one that pricked his nose.

Maybe this was in New Mexico
These pictures are not in order.

Spice Cake and Other Matters

I was going to get up and clean the house, but Henry fell asleep on the floor next to me, and if I get up, he'll wake up and hyper the morning away, so I decided to post some pictures from the drive out, but the internet is being slow and it's taking forever, so I decided to try one really long run-on sentence and post a joke.

A woman gets on a bus with her baby. The bus driver says, "That's the ugliest baby I've ever seen! Ugh!" The woman goes to the rear of the bus and sits down fuming, saying to the man next to her, "That stupid bus driver just insulted me!" The man says, "You go right up there and tell him off - go ahead, I'll hold your monkey for you."

If Only it Would Break Back Into the Seventies, Then I Would Make Sense...

January 24th was National Peanut Butter Day and I missed it! I only figured it out because I was eating peanut butter (crunchy) on bread and thought, "I love peanut butter... I wonder who invented it... I would like to put flowers on the grave of whoever invented peanut butter..."
So I wikipedia-ed it and discovered that there are a bunch of people with patents and associations to peanut-paste and nut-butter and all kinds of things. It was confusing. But I did learn that China is a big peanut butter exporter, which seems wrong.

So the flowers will go on my kitchen table, instead.

I did some more research and decided this would be an acceptable arrangement to honor peanut butter on my kitchen table:

( http://www.andreasverheijen.com/category/events/ )