Anne rules. I drool.

You read Anne Nahm, right? Because if you don't, you're missing out on some of the funniest stuff on the Internet. No, really. You are.

So, about six weeks ago, Anne put on a little contest of fake return addresses, and I (yo, moi, ME, y'all) won! I kind of cheated a little because I submitted two entries, but still, I WON!

Only days later, my prize appeared in the mail:

For the record, she survived the Big Purge of '08.

I may have won the "funny return address" contest, but Anne took my two entries and concocted a way more hilarious return addy mash-up. The package came from "Chris P. Bacon (from my breakfast-themed entry) in Hell, MI (from the death-themed entry). Now THAT is return address comedy gold.

Ahh, dirt.

Isabel wrote a thought-provoking entry about our identities as mothers, wives, and selves. In my comment, I mentioned that by marrying and having my first baby relatively later in life, I felt like I had pretty much solidified my "self" before I took on the roles of wife and mother. I had spent several years living alone, and I had been at the same job for 11 years when the Mr. and I got married. I pretty much knew "who I was" when I got married and had Al. However, I now had less time and energy to devote to the things that once helped to define "who I was." Running, gardening, cooking, reading--those were all activities that were a part of me. All of those things have diminished somewhat as I've devoted more time to the Mr. and Al, but I've managed to keep them in my life to some extent.

Except for gardening.

My gardening opportunities had always been limited to containers, as most apartments/townhouses had little soil to play with, but then the yard work became limitless when we bought our home. When Alex was born, I delegated all of the outdoor chores to the Mr., and I contributed very little--trimming hedges and occasionally weeding the flower beds, but nothing substantial. There just wasn't time, especially when Al's naps were short, and his awake hours tended to require some sort of entertainment.

On Friday, I put Al down for his nap, and then I ran to the garage to gather the tools I would need to complete a couple of yard projects that I've neglected. I cleaned and weeded all of the flower beds, cut down an overgrown weed-shrub, and set out some elephant ears that have been busting out of their bulb bag for about a month. When Al woke up, I brought him to the backyard with me, and he dug in the dirt contentedly while I cleaned the gutters, washed the windows and turned soil for a (maybe! fingers crossed!) veggie garden. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was astounded at his ability to entertain himself while I worked. When he grew tired of digging, he would roll his cars around or kick a ball or play with his tee-ball set or (his favorite) stomp in the puddles created by the window-washing runoff. Someone had turned into a bona fide big boy over the winter while I wasn't looking.

At the end of the day, I felt that familiar fatigue that only hours of weed-pulling and shovel-wielding can produce. My hands were gritty and I smelled like earth. Spending an entire day playing in the dirt brought me back to a part of myself that has been dormant for a while.

Only now, I have someone to play in the dirt with.

Happy Easter.
May your day be filled with love.

If You Pray

I was going to tell you all about my uncharacteristically productive day off yesterday, but that will have to wait.

This morning, I received an email from my mom:

Oh Hon,

Just need your prayers for the new [Baptist Church] Youth Director, his wife and family. He and his wife brought their new baby daughter home from the hospital yesterday, and their two year old son went outside and got into a nearby pond and drowned. He had just turned two. Both grandparents were there, and he just slipped off without anyone seeing him.

Our little community is just devastated. This happened yesterday afternoon. They have not been at the church long.

I do not know this family, but my heart breaks for them. I cannot even begin to imagine the horror that those parents must be experiencing. My faith is not so strong that I haven't uttered a few "whys" and questioned the motives of a loving God. But I know that some things are not for us to know.

If you pray, will you take a few moments to pray with me for this family?

37

So.

I did the purging and packed the big 'ol honking SUV to the gills with Goodwill donations. Then, I decided to try a fireplace hack that I'd been hankering to attempt for some time. If I'd only known that this would take me an entire 20 minutes from start to finish, I would have yanked that insert out months ago.

Before:

Nothing says "outdated" quite like 1980s antique brass.

After:

Drrrrama!

The rest of the week, I did laundry and worked on my resume (more about that to come, I hope). This weekend, I headed out of town with my girlfriends for some shopping and drinks and dancing. We shopped, got the worst manicures in the history of ever (more about that soon, for sure), and then I got a nasty intestinal bug that reduced me to an evening of surfing the internet and watching trash TV in a hotel room (instead of shaking my bootay with my girlfriends!) ON MY BIRTHDAY.

Really, it wasn't so bad. At least this year I managed to fit in a couple of hours of trash TV.

Bogged Down

Today was our last day of school before Spring Break. Whoooo! Remember when Spring Break meant road trips to the beach and a week of partying? Actually, I was never cool enough to do any of that. Instead, I reserved the week of Spring Break to get ahead in my reading for college. I was wild, I tell ya.

And fifteen years later, I am still kicking it nerds-gone-wild style. I am chomping at the bit to get this Spring Break started. This Spring Break will be spent cleaning and decluttering. You're astounded at the level of wild abandon, aren't you?

As a preemptor to the decluttering, I've begun a list of all the rooms in our house, with subpoints of the specific cabinets and closets and drawers that need special attention. Then, the list goes on to outline the places where I will be depositing said clutter--the recycling center, the resale shops, the Goodwill store. I told you I was crazy like that.

I tend to do this every so often, but since Alex was born, I just haven't had the time to purge as often as I'd like. After two years of letting drawers get messy and watching cabinets fill with useless crap (where does this stuff come from, y'all?), I feel like my whole life is a mess. It's hard to get anything productive or creative done in (what I consider to be) a pigsty. So this week, I'm all about the neat & clean.

And then, I'll hit the booze.