Saturday, March 04, 2006

The Big 60th Anniversary Par-Tay!

Well, it's been a week since I was in Iowa visiting family and celebrating my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary. It was so much fun! I should have posted about it before now, but I've been in book club mode and was bound and determined to share East of Eden with everyone.

In addition to the "usual suspects" who live in IA, my grandparents were pleasantly surprised by my dad and his wife coming in from CO, me and my kids from OK, my aunt and uncle from CO, and my cousin and fiancee from...hmm. Don't know where they are from. We all came at different times and just when they thought they were all surprised out, someone new would show up! It was wonderful. Just to give you an idea of the size of our family, counting the baby my SIL is pregnant with we will have 60 people in our family by the end of this year. For this shindig we had about 30 people.

I spent hours talking with my cousins, my aunts and uncles, and, of course, my grandparents. My dad's family is so much different than my mother's family. This family (my dad's) is happy to be together. My grandparents are lucid and FUNNY. They can talk about anything and are just happy to have so many people around.

The celebration consisted of lots of talking and laughter, a Mass, a special dinner, and a sleepover (yes! a real slumber party!) at my aunt's house. We all stayed up until 3am doing karaoke. And before you say it: YES. Even my grandparents. They were right in the middle of it. Then I had to get up and drive home the next day. It was a looooong drive that day, but well worth it.

Here are some pictures from dinner. I'm sure you'll spot the obvious family resemblance immediately.


Dad, Robin and Chilihead


The Grandparents and Chilihead


And now, my friends, I am off for three days in Vegas with my hubby. We are kid-free for three. whole. days. I have a spa treatment booked, a show booked, and I'm packed. Bring it.

Friday, March 03, 2006

My Wonderful Life

I had a lovely Moms Night Out with some friends (old and new) last night. We went to a real, kid-free restaurant and ordered appetizers and wine. We discussed washing machines and driers, religion, and education. We are meeting again in two weeks at an Irish pub for more booze and motherly discussion. I can’t wait.

When I arrived home last night and said good-bye to my awesome mother-in-law, I crawled into bed. My husband was out of town and I found that I missed my kids. So I went upstairs and kissed them both. On my way back downstairs I realized I wanted to be with them. So I went back into Max’s room and picked him up and carried him down to my bed. No easy feat, I have to tell you. That boy is all legs and jagged elbows. Then I went back up stairs to get Wild Thing. Again, no easy feat. She is solid like a rock—a fifty pound rock.

We were finally snuggled all together and I was happy. It was a long, sleepless night for me, but I didn’t mind. I love sleeping with my kids. Of course, I re-thought that when, at 1:17am my son turned over and breathed his death breath into my face while my daughter, who is ridiculously gassy for a five-year-old, let one rip at the same time. While I’m fighting for clean air neither one of them even woke up. I had to laugh. That’s just plain funny. If I didn’t know better I’d say they planned it.

At 2:23am I woke up because I was hot and pulled off the covers. A little later I woke up again and looked over at Wild Thing. She was curled up in a ball and looked at me (though I don’t think she was fully awake). I asked her if she was cold and put the covers back over her. She looked at me, smiled, and said, “Yes, I am cold. Thanks for asking.” I had to laugh again.

At 7:30am this morning both kids decided to rouse themselves and me. Then they decided to give me a backrub. This was no ordinary backrub. This was full body contact massage. As I lay on my stomach they took turns throwing their little bodies on top of mine. Wild Thing added a head butt into my shoulder blades which, surprisingly, didn’t really hurt. They thought this was hysterical.

They are off to school now and I am left alone again to look around and wonder. I wonder what I did to be so lucky. I wonder what I did to have such a great family. I wonder what I did to have such a perfect life.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Trouble seeing my posts?

Is anyone having trouble seeing my blog posts in their intended splendor and glory? Shannon says that for the last week or so she's had to scroll down to see the entries. Anyone else having any troubles? Please let me know so I can see if it's widespread or user error. ;) (J/K, Shannon.)

The Last of East of Eden

We had book club last night and it was a raging success. We had one of the longest discussions we've had in while. This book touched something within everyone--even those who did not quite finish it. This will be my last passage from East of Eden.

I believe that there is only one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us, so that we live in Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder. Humans are caught--in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too--in a net of good and evil. I think this is the only story we have and that it occurs on all levels of feeling and intelligence. Virtue and vice were warp and woof of our first consciousness, and they will be the fabric of our last, and this despite any changes we may impose on field and river and mountain, on economy and manners. There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well--or ill?

And in our time, when a man dies--if he has had wealth and influence and power and all the vestments that arouse envy, and after the living take stock of the dead man's property and his eminence and works and monuments--the question is still there: Was his life good or was it evil? . . . Envies are gone, and the measuring stick is: "Was he loved or was he hated? Is his death felt as a loss or does a kind of joy come of it?"


I think of whether I will be remembered lovingly, resentfully, or not at all. At some point it will not matter; we are all forgotten. How many of you know anything about your great-great-grandmother? Not I. But for those who know me now and will remember me, I am confident that I will be remembered lovingly. I don't say that arrogantly. I know it because I try to treat everyone with respect. I try to be empathetic. I try to give them laughter. I try. There are days when I am too tired and tell myself I don't care what other people feel or think. I justify my ugliness with the fact that I am diagnosed with major depression. Deep down, though, I know it is my choice, my timshel. I choose to do good more than I choose to do evil.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Timshel: Thou Mayest

Those who know me know I am not religious. However, there are some passages that, regardless of where they come from, when I read them, speak volumes to me. They are as interesting from a religious perspective as not. They are worthy of lengthy discussions regardless of your affiliation or non-affiliation. One such passage is the following from East of Eden.

(This passage discusses how the translation of one word in the bible (the Hebrew word timshel) into another (e.g., 'Thou doest' or 'Thou shalt') can make a difference in how a single passage is read and interpreted. These lines are spoken by Lee.)

The American Standard translation orders men to triumph over sin, and you can call sin ignorance. The King James translation makes a promise in 'Thou shalt,' meaning that men will surely triumph over sin. But the Hebrew word, the word timshel--'Thou mayest'--that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if 'Thou mayest'--it is also true that 'Thou mayest not.' Don't you see?

It is that ability to reason, to choose your own path that makes man. It is not for anyone else to choose that path for another. Each one of us has our own choices and we must live with them and learn from them as appropriate.

I love this book. There are so many levels to it, so much to learn and re-learn. I cannot stress enough how wonderful it is to re-read this book and find new things each time.

Monday, February 27, 2006

I'm Baaaaaaack!

I'm home! Our trip was a huge success and oh so much fun! I will post pictures and write it about it later. Right now, though, I want to share something from one of my favorite books, East of Eden. I am hosting book club at my house on Wednesday and this is the book we are discussing. I read it last year, but needed to re-read it to host the discussion properly. Since I was going to be in the car for 16 hours (roundtrip), I borrowed the audio version from my library (22 discs, people, and I am through 12 of them). Listening to it has opened up even more loveliness for me. This is truly a book you must read and re-read. Here is a passage I love.

I don't know where being a servant came into disrepute. It is the refuge of the philosopher, the food of the lazy, and, properly carried out, it is a position of power, even of love. I can't understand why more intelligent people don't take it as a career--learn to do it well and reap its benefits. A good servant has absolute security, not because of his master's kindness, but because of habit and indolence. It's a hard thing for a man to change spices or lay out his own socks. He'll keep a a bad servant rather than change. But a good servant, and I am an excellent one, can completely control his master, tell him what to think, how to act, whom to marry, when to divorce, reduce him to terror as a discipline, or distribute happiness to him, and finally be mentioned in his will. If I had wished I could have robbed, stripped, and beaten anyone I've worked for and come away with thanks. Finally, in my circumstances I am unprotected. My master will defend me, protect me. You have to work and worry. I work less and worry less. And I am a good servant. A bad one does no work and does no worrying, and he still is fed, clothed, and protected. I don't know any profession where the field is so cluttered with incompetents and where excellence is so rare.