The Kite Runner

Just finished this read last night.  I admit, a hard one to put down. 

Without giving it away, I'll just say that even though it was hard to put down, I seem to be on a theme with my reading here--my last two books have been stories of oppression.  Having said that,  I do love a well-written novel with so much to contemplate.  I like to think that reading works such as these challenges me to be a better person.  Causes me to pause, think, and grow.  I'm not always very great at putting thoughts into action...but hopefully the seeds planted by great writers help in some way.

A Good Dose of Sarcasm

I will be the first to admit that I love quotes.  I've often found strength, courage and inspiration in literature and the minds of great people.  In fact, I keep a little leather-bound book and write inside the words of inspiration that speak to me the most. In some of the best and worst times of life, I can aspire to words that others have written or spoken. 

But, if I'm being real, I have to admit....I also love sarcasm.  It is humor at its best.  A reason in life to laugh out loud.  Pure medicine.  I am so lucky to work where I do because we truly don't make it 1/2 hour (at the most) without someone throwing out a great dose of random sarcasm. 

Ahhhhhhh.  Sarcasm.  I just even love the sound of the word. Think me morbid....oh, well. 

If you've poked around my links before, you may have come across the website

http://www.despair.com/

I hadn't visited there in quite sometime, but made a trip the other day....and it was time well-wasted.  Here's  a bit to whet your appetite.

The copy reads:

When you wish upon a falling star, your dreams can come true. 

Unless it's really a meteor hurtling to the earth which will destroy all life.  Then you're pretty much hosed no matter what you wish for. 

Unless it's death by meteorite.

If you love sarcasm and need a laugh....take a spin.  

Squishy Face

This may possibly be one of my most favorite expressions in the whole wide world of worldness. 

Meet Squishy Face.

How long Jack has had this expression coined, I cannot precisely recall, but I do know that I've laughed out loud at it for many-a-months now. 

Best of all, he does it on demand.  Instantly upon request.   All I have to do is say three magic words:  "Jack, squishy face!" 

And instantly, he delivers, my heart smiles, and I break out into laughter,.

Happy Heart Day

Happy Heart Day. 

A day of love.  A day of affection.  A day of pink, red and white. 

A day of gifts to those we hold dear to our own hearts.

These are the gifts the kids made for Grandma and Grammie and Pappie.  (Well, technically, Jack just supervised and ran in and out of the pantry dragging out bags of cereal, but I truly believe his heart was in it).

We had so much fun...and it came on the heels of a recycling unit in first grade, so the whole project was inspired green....even though its really red, pink and white.

I grabbed a few $1 frames from Michael's.  The kids cut up a Lucky Charms box into squares, painted them in festive Valentine hues, glued them on in a mosaic, and Mod-podged away.  For extra bling, they added buttons from my scrapbooking supplies and made a white poofy bow from....ta da...a plastic grocery sack--since, in fact, every time we go to the store without our canvas bags, we come home with forty-two plastic ones. 

And there you have it...our three little valentines, valentines for Grandparents, and a cyber-valentine to my faithful readers.

Happy Heart Day.

No Allowed Signs

Liv's obsession for the past several months has been "No Allowed" signs.  You know the kind with the red circle with the slash through the center that lays down the law about what is to not be done at any given place.

She spots them on the grocery carts.  Picutres of toddlers standing in the cart with a no allowed sign plastered across the terrible scenario.  May I add that she is now quick to scold me for letting Jack do this for the sake of making it through a shopping trip....because of course, it's not allowed.

She sees them across cigarettes, which of course launches a discussion on public health.

She notices them on street signs, which of course has now qualified her to be a back seat driver.

Today, she took matters into her own hands and decided to use the good old sign to better her own life.  Make a statement.  Promote change.

This is what Bill found when he went to use the bathroom off of the kitchen:

Her own "No Allowed" sign.  A picture of the step stool in the bathroom with the notorious emblem strategically markered across.

You see, her pet peeve is when someone takes the stool out of the bathroom because she uses it to reach the bathroom sink to wash her hands.  Usually, it has been dragged into the living room to be a footrest for Camille under the piano bench.

So....the sign is the exclamation point.  "No taking the stool out of the bathroom anymore." 

And apparently, it seems to be working, as the step stool is in its  place. 

A Half Decade in the Making

Olivia Ellen.

Livvy.

Liv.

Livvy Lu.

Lu lu.

Tinkerbell.

Today, I write for you. 

Today, my precious girl, you turned five years old. 

Tonight...you fell asleep in my lap, and now that the celebrating is done...my emotions rush in and the tears well up. 

You are not my first child to turn five.  You will not be my last.  Yet, today strikes a special place in my heart because I look at you and see how grown up you have become in your little self. 

I see how this has happened in the blink of an eye.

And I feel proud and out of control and happy and sad all at once.

It's hard to articulate why I feel that your infancy, toddlerhood and preschool years have fled by so quickly.  I suspect it is partly because you hit every milestone long before you were supposed to and I never had to worry that you wouldn't.  I am guessing it is partly because we live a life that has slightly more chaos than some, and the idiosyncrasies fill up any time voids that might have been possible otherwise.  I know it is partly because you are wise.  Not just book smart, but wise about the world, its people, and your place in it.  Sometimes, I see that you are wiser than you should be at your age.  Though that has made you sassy and sometimes hard to "outparent," it has also made you very perceptive and insightful and caring. 

We are so much the same that it sometimes frightens me.  You are sassy.  You won't take no for an answer.  You have passion that is sometimes untamed.  You love to get your hands into things and create. Yet, I see you with qualities that I have only hoped to have, and for this, I know you will be a better person than I could ever be.  Keep that sweet and salty edge, Livvy.  Never stop standing up for what you believe.  Keep making your mark on the world.  Paint it your own color, even if nobody but you thinks it matches.

And keep that compassion.  At five years of age, you read people.  You tap into feelings.  You know how to make a moment better, a day brighter.

Keep that spirit of living in the moment.  You have forfeited zoo trips for the sake of lopping along to physical therapy.  You have traded Disney World for Detroit.  You have proudly taken on the role of being an older sister and given up more undivided attention.  Yet, you find excitement in every adventure and a reason to love the moments not for where they are or what they are,  but who they are with. 

Keep that adaptable nature.  You are the fourth-born, yet the second-born, yet you often have taken the role of the first-born.  This identity crisis would give anyone a sense of instability, but you remain a rock, comfortable in your skin and oblivious to the fact that...well...things are different sometimes.  Different, but not worse.

I love your creativity.  Your imagination.  Your story lines.  Your knack for art.  I love watching you create a very lengthy and involved plot-line with a one-inch plastic teddy bear and a rubber band.  I love your hugs.  Reading just one more and one more and one more book every night.  I love snuggling up with you on the couch.  

I love you.

I love that tonight, when you feel asleep in my lap, you still were clutching Bunny tightly....and I love that you were sucking your thumb even though the pediatrician probably wouldn't....because it reminds me that you are still my little girl. 

Never stray too far away, sweet girl. 

Thanks to De....

...I'm already flunking resolution #1 of my Happiness Project, which is to get more sleep, as that feeds into more energy, which feeds into more happiness.

HOWEVER...you know how I feel about owls and my friend De custom-designed a new header for my blog because SHE knows how I feel about owls....so here you have it.  I simply had to redesign my blog around my new custom-made owl-header. 

And now it's 11:43 p.m. 

But isn't it cute? 

And if you want to see more uber cuteness, visit her blog:

http://www.theplainscrafter.blogspot.com/

De, it was bliss talking to you today.  You are one of the most genuine people that I know and I miss you here in the arctic.