Fitting...

Jeans are a way of life for me. If I could, I would dress in jeans or workout attire all the time. Some ladies are into their shoes; for me it's jeans. Despite the fact that I find it agonizing to find some that actually fit right (who doesn't?) I have way more than I need, yet I will still find reasons to buy "just one more pair."

Consequently, I was ALL kinds of excited this weekend to find that I fit into several pairs of my pre-pregnancy jeans. After His Highness was born I tried on my biggest pair of jeans weekly; I stopped doing that after about 3 weeks. So 9 months later, I was going through my clothes, which I've been needing to do for a while. It was a very cleansing experience. I methodically tried on all my pants, dividing them up into piles named "keep," "pack away," "give away," and "throw away."

By and large I was able to choose easily which pairs went into which pile. Keeps I kept (duh). Pack aways were those that are now too big (yay!) and I'll use after the next kiddo (which is still quite hypothetical). Give aways were those pairs that still don't fit, and that I wouldn't be particularly excited about wearing, even if I did drop the last few pounds. The most traumatic thing, however, was letting go of my first-ever pair of bootcut jeans, purchased in 2002 from Old Navy, shortly after I started grad school and noticed just how much tapered legs did NOT flatter me. They've been on their last legs for a while now; I was just in denial of how nearly-dead they actually were. But as I inspected the holes and frayed edges I knew the time had come. I tossed them into the "throw away" pile with the green khakis whose buttons had broken off for the last time (and which I remember fastening with a tiny binder clip for ages. And then one day I was at the doctor with them on, and he needed to see my belly for some reason, and behold he found the clip. It might have been an interesting conversation...but it wasn't).

So then this morning I pulled on my Calvin bootcuts with glee. Didn't fit exactly the same as before, but not bad at all. I felt lean, mean, and not at all like a schoolmarm, to use one of the Cat Daddy's favorite loaded terms. Perfect for playing some kick-a$$ rock 'n roll for Jesus. Playing faster for the Master.

So I headed off to church. And in the middle of the music, while I was trying to hit a sweet fill, I felt my waistband loosen. The button had popped off. Not open, but off. Entirely. And all I could think was, "Of course it did."

Fitting...

Hope for Haiti...

So, we had a guest speaker at church today. Danita Estrella is a missionary in Haiti, where she started an orphanage and school. Hearing her stories tends to make one want to chuck a few things into a backpack and go help needy children.

Her story is amazing, really. She showed up in Haiti nearly 9 years ago with not much of anything...no money and no idea really what she was going to do, other than a sense that she was there to help out and minister in some way. Now she is mom to something like 75 kids and her school has around 500 students. Very moving.

Check out her site here.

Friday Night Tidbits...

Happy autumn everyone! I thought this would be an opportune time to beta-test my new blog, what with the warm colors and fall feel. After all this time I'm finding it strangely difficult to let go of the Yahoo blog, but I have good feelings about this here Blogger one. I think if I can find an easy way to import my archives I will be completely at peace (blog-wise, anyway). So if anyone knows how to do that, please email me at skerri_bATyahooDOTcom. In the meantime, leave me some comments, eat something apple-y, and go spend some time outside in the glorious cool air...

...Fall used to be my least favorite season, but it is becoming my favorite in recent years. The least-favorite bit had more to do with the trauma of moving away from AZ several years ago, when the Cat Daddy joined the Air Force. I didn't really like anything not having to do with summer for a while. Which sounds melodramatic, but it really was quite an ordeal. A story for another time, perhaps. Anyway, now I'm better able to appreciate the crisp air and bright colors, and to look forward to fleece and mittens and such. This year I must find a hand-knitted hat. I actually have the materials and a book detailing how to knit one myself, but at the rate I'm going I don't think I'll get to it until I'm, like, 42...

...Took the day off of work today; made good headway on some chores and did some jogging with Mrs. Roots this afternoon before I went grocery shopping. Cardio always makes me high on life, so later on, in the produce section, I was babbling away to His Highness--who was strapped to my back taking in the sights--about the different bell peppers (we went with an orange and a yellow), and the stone fruits (the peaches looked better than the nectarines this week), and the jalapenos (which looked horrendous, but we managed to salvage 3 that were nearly passable). I've never been so openly nutty in my life, but no one bats an eye when they see I have a baby. Babies ROCK. If you need to look normal while doing something completely crazy, you may borrow His Highness for a small fee...

...Attended a Parents' Advsory Board meeting at His Highness's daycare center this week. It was almost enjoyable. I signed up to help out with a silent auction fundraiser they're having this fall to raise money for open house night. Any of those is usually the sort of thing I run from, but our experience with the daycare has been so good, I thought I should contribute in some way to show my support for all they do there, because they do it so well. Before signing up for the fundraiser I pulled the director aside and asked her what was involved. I said, "Here's the thing; put a bunch of women together in the room and usually they get all catty [and I made hand motions to demonstrate], and I hate catty, so if it won't be like that I'll help out." She assured me I could do something as simple as make flyers or something. Then Mrs. Bee signed up to help out too and I thought "Hey, if she's doing it I can totally do this" and I felt very relieved.

I told Mrs. Roots my story and she laughed & said I was once step away from the PTA. But then she signed up to sell Tupperware, so I laughed at her and said I draw the line at selling Tupperware. But I did buy some, and I told her I'd stick some catalogues in the restroom at work for her. Don't ask...

...Made another observation about blog comments. I was reading one of John Shore's posts the other day, where he was extolling the virtues of his wife. It was very charming because he's obviously smitten with her and I thought that was sweet. Then I read thru the comments. One of them was someone who didn't really like his post at all because what he said didn't parallel the Proverbs 31 description of a good wife, and they wouldn't be returning because they didn't like his writing. OK, fair enough that they didn't like the writing, but what is it about people who think that just because a blogger (or singer, or writer, or pastor, etc.) is a Christian, every word that proceedeth forth must verily be a Bible verse or something? I'm pretty sure even God sometimes says things that aren't direct quotes from the Bible. I mean, there's not one reference in the New Testament about Jesus needing to use the restroom, but being fully human and all, I'm pretty sure that he did that very thing countless times while he was here. He didn't need to reference the Torah to get every point across. I thought about posting something snarky, pointing out that I didn't think marital theology was the purpose of that particular post, but then I thought that my own blog would be a more appropriate venue for my snarkiness...

...Learned a new term this week over at the QC Report. Looks like I need to find a Tweezer friend. What's that you say? "Not you, Skerrib, you can't possibly have unwanted hairs on that flawless complexion of yours!" Well, fear not, I don't. I just want a friend who is close enough that they would do something like that for me in a hypothetical sense. Right. Truth is, I was reading the entry going "Oh crap, I didn't even think to put that in my living will!" And I do love the Cat Daddy, almost as much as God and life, but he gets squeamish at the thought of giving a pill to a cat. I cannot burden him to take the tweezers to my eyebrows weekly...

...Well, I'm totally supposed to be washing dishes, doing laundry, and/or pumping iron tonight, so I must be off for now. Tomorrow we get to hunt bargains with the Roots at a HUGE tag sale up in Chelmsford! Later...

Holy Humor Batman!

Today's fantastic news: After a 2-year hiatus, The Holy Observer has returned. I'm trying to think of how to describe it. It's in the same vein as LarkNews. Both are snarky satirical sites which poke fun at Christians; and specifically, Evangelicals.

The first descriptor that pops into my head is "Christian satire," but that sounds like I'm describing a satire knock-off that is somehow more OK with Jesus than "Secular satire," ala "The Onion." Come to think of it, that's a bit of clever irony, considering that such practices as slapping Bible verses and/or Jesus on knock-offs and calling them Christian-whatevers is some of the very stuff these sites make fun of.

So "Christian satire" isn't quite right. Neither is "Religious satire," since the teasing is pretty much limited to Evangelicals, like I mentioned before.

You know what? Don't take my word for it. Just assume that both sites are fabulous beyond any description I could muster, and go take a look.

LarkNews

The Holy Observer

If you are not a snarky type, these will probably not be your cup of tea, and you have my pity...

The Grossest Thus Far...

It's my birthday today. I'm 30--yay me!

People keep asking me how I feel about hitting 30. I don't think I'm freaking out or anything. I did a bit of mental dealing-with-it a few months back, knowing the inevitable was approaching. Another rollover in the tens spot. Not to be a fatalist or anything, but in many ways it was just another day. Woke up, went to work, attended to His Highness's needs and whims. The Cat Daddy did take me out for lunch...Asian buffet and sushi. YUM. And he told me to skip the grocery shopping for today, since no one should have to grocery shop on their birthday. And then he picked up dinner so I didn't have to cook. Yum again.

I'm tellin' ya, he's a keeper.

So of course that's not the gross part. That came later, while His Highness and I were playing after dinner. He was crawling and climbing and laughing and, corny mom I am, I was playing baby paparazzi, chasing him around and trying to capture the ultimate in cute pics.

Lemme back up just a bit. This morning was bathtime, and while we were waiting for the water to warm up His Highness was crawling around the bathroom in, shall we say, the buff. One of his favorite things to do is pull to standing next to the toilet and bang on the lid with his hands. What could be more fun than that. I of course thought it was the cutest thing ever, and I wanted to go grab the camera for a few quick shots, but I have this terrible habit of getting sidetracked (Hey, a Reader's Digest! I'll just read a quick few pages. Oh, wait! I need to smush up those sweet potatoes...oh, man, I'll never finish sorting this pile of mail. I need to reorganize my files one of these days. We never have gotten a desk chair, come to think of it. Sooner or later we'll need to keep the dining chairs at the dining table. Holy crap, where'd the baby go...), so I thought it was in everyone's best interest to just stay put.

So THEN, tonight while we were playing, His Highness crawled his way into the bathroom wearing nothing but a diaper. So standing there holding the camera, I was struck with inspiration and took off his diaper. Just as I thought, he crawled right over to the toilet, stood up, and started banging away. Someday his girlfriend will just love the cute little bottom-shots. Awww.

And before too long of course, he peed on the floor. But that's not the gross part. He had the good sense to avoid the rugs, so it was a matter of some quick spot-mopping. What a good boy. He kept crawling and I kept snapping away. By this time he'd moved over to the cabinet and was using all the knobs for chewing and standing support. Boy was he in the moment. Concentrating, climbing, grunting...wait a sec. I smelled a familiar smell just as he moved to the side.

You guessed it, he pooped on the rug. And to make matters worse, he thought it was some very interesting stuff, so he was playing with it. Gross! Being in the bathroom and all, it was quite easy to turn on the water and pop him in the tub for today's Bath #2. To clean off the Number 2. While I found myself saying things like "Give me the poop. No, you may not taste the poop. Let go of the poop." But that's not the grossest part.

The grossest part is that Zoe, who'd been watching the whole scene, waited until I was quite occupied with making sure His Highness didn't eat any poop, then lunged for the quick-snag of a bit of poop off the rug. And with a hasty retreat and a satisfied grin, she gulped it down. I was disgusted.

While I know it's just the beginning of a lifelong game of "Grosser Than Gross," THAT is the grossest thing I've dealt with thus far.

For Posterity...

I registered on this particular website, then promptly signed in to look up some info. They don't mess around with their tracking times, do they...