Famous friend!

This is my very very lovely friend Annie who saved a million dollars on groceries in 2008. Well, less than that, but still! We're so proud of her. Hope this link works. I think you'll need to cut and paste.

http://www.wlfi.com/dpp/news/local_wlfi_attica_womansaves15000usingcoupons_20090508

Adoption loss.

My heart is heavy today for some sweet friends who have experienced an adoption loss. It's a weird kind of loss because there usually is no physical death but the death of a dream of parenting a very real child is devastating. Especially after the losses affiliated with infertility.

What do you say in this situation? I'll tell you what you do NOT say, and that is "This was not meant to be." This may seem comforting, but the fact is that many times it has felt "meant to be" for weeks or months. It usually looks like God's hand was on the match and there was no indication that it wouldn't work out. The family banks their hopes and dreams on this baby, names the baby, and loves the baby even if they have not met. If they have met it can be even harder in that you have a real live baby to picture in your arms forever. And then you're left empty handed and broken hearted.

This is the time to rally around the prospective adoptive parents. I thank God that this is what is happening in this case! Allow the couple to grieve this loss. Although the baby was not legally theirs, in their hearts the baby was. It is a very real loss even without a physical death. Don't expect the couple to "snap out of it" quickly, to be ready to move on to another match right away (although they may be), or expect them to be strong for you. They can't. If it seems like they are, they may be faking it and will let down sooner or later (hopefully sooner). But don't push. Let them know you are there to listen when they are ready. Offer to bring a meal. Leave a meal on the doorstep, ring the doorbell and run if you have to, if they don't yet feel like talking. (Tell me if you do that so I can find out how that goes.) Pray.

Whew. I know the sadness I am feeling for this couple in no way begins to match their feelings. I know I keep rehashing this in my mind, but this is not my loss. I don't think my friends are blog readers, but if they are, then know that I love you and will continue to pray for your hearts and the lives of everyone involved.

Love.

Love-hate relationship.

BB has a love-hate relationship with mustard. On the one hand, he requests it when we have hot dogs, which frankly, we eat about every other day for a meal. (Well, little boys do, I usually don't.)

On the other hand, yesterday morning I went to a BSF intro class (Bible Study Fellowship). I attended for years until the boys came, then I took a break. I got a babysitter for the morning and attended the class. When I got home from BSF the boys were watching "Monsters Inc." on DVD. Sometimes BB is afraid of it, but he didn't seem to be yesterday. He will say, "scared" and fake shake if he is, so I was confident he was doing OK.

Well after a few minutes as I was preparing their lunch (NOT hot dogs), BB came running from the back room saying, "Mustard coming. Scared." He substitutes the word "mustard" for "monsters." It's pretty freakin' hilarious. He keeps saying it today and I just egg him along. It's so cute. He's not really scared, he's just playing, but I guess under the right (wrong) circumstances mustard can be scary. Like on a freshly laundered white top or chasing after you from a dark room.

Mustard. Love it. (In both senses of the word.)

Food for thought.

Is it considered bad manners for me to have fished my lunch out of a soup I'm preparing to take to friends tonight? I used a clean ladle and ate it out of my own individual bowl.

How's the chocolate fast going?

Today I heard myself say out loud, "I don't have to eat it, just because it's there." I was going for the Hershey's kisses I received for serving in the children's area on Mother's Day. I was thinking if I just ate them all right away they wouldn't be a temptation any more and I wouldn't have chocolate in the house to eat every day.

I gave up chocolate for Lent because I felt like I was going for the choc before going to the Lord for comfort. I decided not to keep fattening chocolate in the house after Easter, but to indulge if I felt like it when I went out to dinner or to a birthday party or some festival. I do still buy dark chocolate because I can be satisfied by a square of it with some raw almonds and it's supposed to be good for me. I buy Weight Watchers fudge bars because I heart them and they are only 50 calories each and very satisfying. And um, I did buy some Kashi cookies because Thelma fed me one at the retreat and it was so satisfying.

So I'm not going ape with the no chocolate thing now, but I do find myself less tempted by it and able to realize when I'm going for it out of habit instead of because I'm hungry for a sweet treat. I even passed up most of the chocolate pie you sent, Frances, but the piece I did have was most delicious as usual.

And I had a hot fudge sundae at McDonald's the other night...

I'm glad yesterday is over.

Although it's really not. It is 10:45 which makes it still Mother's Day, but lest I don't have time to post tomorrow I thought I'd spew forth some thoughts.

Mother's Day is hard for so many people. It's hard for women who long for children with empty arms, the men who love them, women and men who have had a mother die or are estranged for some reason, and people who have lost children, to name a few. It used to be hard for me and I know it's very hard on some of my friends right now. So it was a highly charged day and I'm ready for a run-of-the-mill Monday.

This morning I sat with a friend going through IF and other health issues and watched as the woman sitting next to her rubbed her obviously pregnant belly and had her husband put his hand on the baby as they made goo-goo eyes at each other. I very clearly remembered how it felt to be my friend and I just wanted to throw my arm around her, point at the other woman and yell, "Hellooo?? Can you get a rooooom?" Ugh. But I also know that that couple were rejoicing together and have no reason to consider why that display might have stung an IF woman just a tad. But I figured it must have. It reminded me of my other sweet friends dreaming of a) a future Mother's Day with a baby in her arms, or at least b) tomorrow.

I worked in the children's area at church today. Many mothers did not want to serve on Mother's Day, which I understand, but I just felt so blessed to be a mother today that I didn't mind missing a church service to help out. I was in the baby room with 3 other moms and we had some fun, too. Plus we got chocolate for serving on this day, so it was worth it. I didn't feel like I needed a big to-do for the day, because my sweet boys and husband are so sweet every day.

We went out to dinner to a local restaurant where there is a fenced-in playground for the kids, (No, not McDonald's, although I did dine there the other night much to my Diane's chagrin) and enjoyed a quasi-relaxing dinner outside. Then we came home and I finished watching "Kit Kittridge: An American Girl." It was a good day and I'm glad tomorrow is coming soon. Like in one hour and 4 minutes. Must. Go. To. Sleep.

Top 10 things about my mom!

1. She always sees the best in people.
2. She's a total techie mom and spoils me with nifty high-tech gifts!
3. She loves her career and her students but I've never felt like that means family is second best.
4. She especially loves spending time outdoors (and indoors) with her grandsons. Even though it took us years to be parents I always knew that she would be just as thrilled by the 4th (and 5th) grandsons as she was with the first 3!
5. She asks me for advice and lets me know she appreciates my perspective.
6. When we're together she always provides her family with the treats we love like raspberries and ice cream.
7. She is a great cook and makes tasty, healthy meals. After Andrew was born she made me some wonderful meals and shopped for healthy treats like granola with berries.
8. She is a great model of spending quality time with her family.
9. She taught me to knit and we cracked up about all the mistakes I made.
10. She's a great clothes-shopping partner! We zip zip zip through the store leaving piles of clothes in our wake, then go eat. We prefer eating.


There are so many more I couldn't possibly list them all. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you so much!

Did you know???

You can use 2 drops of olive oil to moisturize your hands and cuticles, and to pat on your face as a 100% natural alternative to commercial skin care products? Not only is it non-greasy, which you would probably not expect, but you won't smell like an Italian kitchen afterwards. In fact the smell of a small quantity of olive oil like that is absolutely lovely and I am so excited about it! I bet Miriam knew that, being the Italian beauty that she is!

You can also use olive oil on a cotton ball to remove eye makeup. People who know me know that I don't often wear makeup, but that's mostly because I HATE taking it off at the end of the day. I'd rather just not go there. But now this new information has me revved up about natural beauty care products. Maybe I'll have eyes more often. (Everybody has eyes, right, Karen?)

Where did I learn these amazing things? From the Bible! Well, Ginger Garrett learned them from the Bible (I'm sure she was not the first), shared them in her book Beauty Secrets of the Bible, and gave me a copy last weekend at a Hannah's Prayer Infertility and Loss Ministry retreat. There are several other household items that are perfect beauty products, but I haven't time to rave all about those right now. Olive oil! Who knew?

Last night I had the strangest dream.

Nothing about a row boat and a trip to China, but a strangely real dream.

I dreamt I was a pregnant mom considering adoption for her baby. I met the prospective adoptive parents and I showed off my belly. I thought they would want to see their baby growing. I gave a profile and even lifted my shirt over the belly for them to "see" their child. I was so proud, and I knew the prospective adoptive parents must be so glad that their wait was almost over. They left.

In the next part of my dream I was gripped with sadness about how I would have to give up my baby. "Maybe I could raise the baby," I thought. But then I realized that the adoptive parents were counting on this baby being theirs. I felt like I owed it to them to place the baby with them. What was I going to do?

I think in this dream I was both the pregnant mom and the prospective adoptive mom. It was heartbreaking as the pregnant mom, thinking I now had to give up my baby because the adoptive parents were so happy and I'd already agreed to the adoption. I felt like I owed it to them.

Writing this makes me want to cry. I don't believe our situation was like this, but I can now understand why some birthmothers feel like they've been coerced into giving up their baby for adoption. Notice I'm not using "Positive Adoption Language?" Because in my dream it felt like I was giving up the baby, not placing the baby into someone else's arms to raise. It makes me feel better as an adoptive parent to say "placed the baby for adoption" because then I get to feel like this was her choice and not something she felt she had to do. Am I kidding myself?

So that was weird. I hope I never have that dream again. Now that I'm a mom by both birth and adoption I can understand a little more what K must have gone through loving our baby with all her heart and yet letting him go to us. It was a vivid dream, although I know I really have NO idea how a birthmom feels after placing her baby.

Over the past few years my blog has changed a lot, so I don't know if I still have any firstmothers/birthmothers who read. But if I do, know that I'm not saying I know how you feel. Maybe in my dream I experienced one of the emotions you may have also felt at some point, but that doesn't give me much experience in this area. Please know that I respect you and respect that you may have some emotions about adoption that an adoptive mom like me wouldn't necessarily think fit my picture about the miracle I see adoption to have been for us. I think we can really learn from each other.

Love.

Cool poem I got today in my email.

WHEN I SAY, "I AM A CHRISTIAN"
By Carol Wimmer (widely mis-attributed to Maya Angelou)

When I say, "I am a Christian," I'm not shouting, "I've been saved!"
I'm whispering, "I get lost! That's why I chose this way"

When I say, "I am a Christian," I don't speak with human pride
I'm confessing that I stumble-needing God to be my guide

When I say, "I am a Christian," I'm not trying to be strong
I'm professing that I'm weak and pray for strength to carry on

When I say, "I am a Christian," I'm not bragging of success
I'm admitting that I've failed and cannot ever pay the debt

When I say, "I am a Christian," I don't think I know it all
I submit to my confusion asking humbly to be taught

When I say, "I am a Christian," I'm not claiming to be perfect
My flaws are far too visible but God believes I'm worth it

When I say, "I am a Christian," I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartache which is why I seek His name

When I say, "I am a Christian," I do not wish to judge
I have no authority--I only know I'm loved

Alien

How long did it take you to fall in love with your spouse? For some it may have been very soon after you met. For others it may have taken months. For yet others years or even decades. I would imagine most people are somewhere in the middle of "soon" and decades. Imagine if you were so excited to be married some day and how you might cook up some fantasies about what that would be like. Then imagine you met your current spouse and for various reasons needed to marry him right away. Can you imagine being married to someone after having known them for just 48 hours? What if in addition to marrying your whole schedule was changed and you weren't able to get out much. Trapped! Maybe he snores and you wake up endless times during the night and wonder, "What have I done?"

I'm reading a book called "The post-adoption blues: Overcoming the challenges of adoption" by Karen Foli and John Thompson. As a result of this reading (and as a result of watching two neat friends who are new adoptive parents and soon-to-be adoptive parents), I've been thinking about why it was hard to be a new adoptive parent. The gist of the book is that we enter parenthood with certain expectations that may or may not be met, or may or may not even be reasonable.

One example of an expectation that may or may not be met is instant bonding with our new child. We expect because we waited so long for a baby that all of the wonderful feelings of motherhood or parenthood will hit us the minute we pick up the sweet innocent creature. We picture ourselves nurturing the baby through long nights, receiving sweet smiles in a month or two, and showing off our baby to everyone who will look. We know it's going to be challenging and we're going to be sleep deprived and our whole lives are going to be turned upside down. Or do we? We do, but we don't quite.

I would say I loved BB from the minute I held him. I did. I had chosen to love him because we were adopting him. But I wasn't in love with him. I didn't long for him when I was away. Nor was I in any way prepared as to how he would change our lives and our marriage. I had no idea how scared and empty I would feel in the middle of the night when it seemed like the only thing I would really ever know again was this tiny, helpless, screaming, hurting baby. He just took over. Babies do that. I didn't know I would feel like my husband and I were separated because we didn't spend as much time together as we had before baby.

In addition, in our adoptive relationship I really did feel like he was so alien to me. I had not birthed him, had not felt him move and shift in my womb, had not talked to him in the middle of the afternoon as he cooked, and had not known him before October 26th, 2006. Then on October 28th he was everything and required my every attention. Sometimes it felt like to much. I never really thought we'd made a mistake, but sometimes in the middle of the night for a moment it did feel like that. Why had we totally interrupted our lives for a person we didn't even know? I'd married a stranger and promised to love him forever. It was weird. And hard. And wonderful. I'm so glad we did it. But I imagine it is a little bit like entering into an arranged marriage. I know without a doubt that BB and I bonded at about 6 weeks of age when that sweet boy screamed in my arms in the middle of what seemed like a sound slumber. From that minute I would have easily given my life for his. Before that minute I probably would have, too, but I might have had to talk myself into it.

An example of unreasonable expectation is figuring that since we worked so hard to become a parent, because maybe we're older or because we anticipated parenting so excitedly, that we should be the best parents ever. Talk about unrealistic! I know how I feel when my plans are thwarted. I feel angry and resentful. The other day I was expecting to see "after" pictures of makeovers at the end of Rachael Ray and what I got instead was a 30 minute monotone weather report. I was livid - and for something so petty! But as irrationally angry as I was, it had nothing to do with me as a person or with my abilities. It's not that I expected to be a perfect parent, but I didn't expect to hear myself say, "I can't wait to drop off my baby at childcare," or "I just need an hour to myself!" or "Shut up - stop crying!" Then when I did say those things I felt guilty for being a bad mom. I should be a great mom because I wanted it so much. I was doing it wrong, and if I made a mistake, it meant that I was not good enough.

I kind of hope my new adoptive parent friends and my expecting by adoption friend don't read this because I might cause mass hysteria. But, this was my reality. It might not be theirs, it might not be yours, but it sure began to feel like reality to me as soon as we returned home from the 4 hour drive from Dallas with Alien Baby in the car with us.

Hours of therapy have taught me that good enough is good enough when it comes to parenting! Can I get an Amen? This is an interesting book, "The post-adoption blues," but a lot of it is catered to international adoption, kinship adoption, and foster-care adoption where your "baby" may be an older child with a difficult past. Not that infant babies don't have grief and loss, but those hurts aren't as clearly manifested when they are a newborn. By the time they're two like BB you have no idea if their issues are adoption issues or toddler/school-aged/fill-in-the-blank-here issues.

Adoptive parenting is just like regular old parenting with an additional dimension. We have our unique issues, but so does parenting any other child in our home. It's a wild ride, parenting, isn't it? Wheeee!

Lost and Found

I found this note the other day when I was throwing away some old papers. It was from a student I taught when I student taught (sounds like a tongue twister).

Dear Mss. Schandredge I think your
Are good musician! Your very cool! Your
A very good music person! And
your very funny!

It was fun while it lasted, the student teaching business. Maybe I'll get another one of these notes someday in the future.

He is Risen!

Finally Easter Sunday! What can I say other than thank God for this blessed day.

Randy and I both worshipped in the Exaltation Choir and Orchestra this morning. I stared at the back of his head the whole time because there were so many people in choir today that I stood way to the left rather than more toward the middle where I usually do with the rest of the Soprano 2s. I can't explain how powerful it was to be in that assembly this morning. We sang our faces off and now my jaw hurts. I could not sing loudly enough to praise God the way I would have liked.

There is so much I could say about the meaning of Easter. However, I think it's going to have to wait until later because I'm just about d-o-n-e after today. I'll just type out some of the lyrics to one of our songs this morning. Happy Easter!

...For everyone knows, in three days He rose,
Now and forever to redeem you and me.

He lives! He Lives! Conquered the grave, covered our sin.
He lives! He Lives! Death could not hold the promise within.
He lives.

It is Finished.

Today is Good Friday. I'm not sure why historically this day is called Good Friday, so someone feel free to chime in. All I know is that "Good Friday" is the day we recognize the merciless death of Jesus on the cross. A death preordained by God so that no one but Him could have stopped it. Which He didn't. That is amazing grace and I'm so thankful.

The first time I observed Good Friday was about 8 years ago before Randy and I became engaged. I took the day off work as my optional holiday and had begun a fast at lunch the day before. I remember eating that sandwich and chips overlooking a beautiful Texas valley down near Gonzales, Texas. I was working as a music therapist and I was down that way treating clients. I had never fasted for 24 hours before, and it was hard. I'm a big eater. But I took that time I would have spent working and eating (a lot) to pray and read the Bible's accounts of the death of Jesus. OK, I also went to a Jennifer Knapp concert, but it wasn't that great since we could smell the delicious aroma of barbecue in the background. Out steaks never tasted so good the next evening as we gathered at my brother and sister-in-law's house with my whole family. Poor Randy. (Totally just kidding.)

How religious was I? How pious! Not really, actually. I don't feel that it is required to observe Good Friday, nor that it is required to fast that day. But personally, I chose to do so in order to really consider the sacrifice He made for me when he died a criminal's death on the cross. Since then I have not "religiously" observed Good Friday. I'm not even sure I've ever fasted that day since that time. I just finished a grilled cheese sandwich with potato rounds and have my Diet Coke by my side right this minute.

The Bible tells us not to walk around looking famished when we fast, lest someone asks what's wrong and we appear to feel self-righteous about the big sacrifice of food. Nothing, NOTHING compares to the sacrifice Jesus made on that day. He is GOD. He could have called an oodle of angelic beings to minister to Him on the cross as he hung there tortured and bleeding. But had He done so, there would have been no Easter, now would there? But more importantly, there would be no salvation, and that is a fate I can't imagine. Actually, I could try to imagine it, because I spent a lot of years running off.

This morning I sat down with my Bible and read the four Gospels' accounts of Jesus's death. What was impressed upon me this morning was the following verse: "Then the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was torn in two" (Luke 23:45). The sun, the bright burning sun, was darkened. Not by the passing of the moon over it, but by God Himself. The sun was darkened as the Son died. A similar verse is in the books of Mark (15:38) and Matthew (27:51).

The veil is figuratively the divider which separated man from God. Temple sacrifices were given on the inner side of this veil, accessible only by a select few (one?). The tearing of this sheath illustrated that once and for all, man was no longer separated from God because Jesus is the final blood sacrifice. Thus, John writes, "So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, "It is finished!" And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit."

It is finished. That's it - no more sacrifice necessary. What a tender mercy! Can you imagine having to sacrifice an animal as a sin offering each time we sin? I'm not talking murder and adultery, either. God's standard is perfection and He knows we can't compete with that! So Jesus - perfection in human form - is it. The final blood sacrifice. I already said that, right? Gee, I wonder why.

So what. So I want to observe the day that this happened so many years ago. What can I possibly give up that would reach the level of sacrifice God made for me? ME! That's crazy. I know I'm pretty cool and can get a laugh or two, but compared to a sinless Jesus I look like a flea, a pest.

It's Friday, but Sunday is coming!

A special day.

I love Easter. Since I became a Christian 12 years ago Easter has held so much more meaning to me than just plastic eggs filled with candy. When I lived at the VA in Topeka, Kansas doing my music therapy internship I was the accompanist at a Methodist church and took part in their Ash Wedesday, Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday services. I'm not much of a denominationalist, a word I think I just made up, as I am as some of my friends have on their Facebook accounts a "Jesus Luva'." Love that. But it was fun to experience the structure of the Methodist church that Easter. It was especially fun to go through the Wendy's drive-through with a cross ashed into my forehead.

Before I had a church home I visited other churches on Easter. Just for fun, let's see - somewhere in Cali when I was a kiddo, Collegiate Presbyterian Church in Iowa, Cathedral of Praise in South Carolina, a random church I visited in Colorado, Timberland Church in Colorado, and Otterbein United Methodist in Kansas. Since then I have spent the last 9 Easters at Hyde Park Baptist Church in Austin, Texas where I have been a member for about as long. Amazing. I can't believe I've lived in Austin for that long for one, and I can't believe I've been a member of the same church for that many years!

So today was a Palm Sunday service where we heard about all of the pomp and circumstance under which Jesus entered Jerusalem less than a week before He was crucified. How amazing is this? He prances into town on a smelly, dirty, donkey, as humble as can be, and receives a hero's welcome! Less than one week later he is hanging on the cross dying a criminal's death. No one stepped in to try to save him, his own very best friends denied they even knew him, and he was mercilessly tortured for hours upon hours. Where were his loyal subjects then?

What the heck does this have to do with me in the 21st century? Well for one thing, it's easy for me in my human failings to praise God on a Sunday and ignore him on a Tuesday. When I put other things like television and internet before time with Him, I'm not declaring my unending love for him like I promised I would on Sunday morning as I sang in the God-blessed HPBC Exaltation Choir. I'm not trying to be impossible on myself expecting that I should be praising God every minute of every day, although in heaven I will! I am so thankful that God found me worthy enough in Christ, not because I'm all that but because Jesus is all that, that I still receive His eternal blessings. And let me tell you, I have been blessed. Yes, even before we had children, before I had Randy, before I was even born, I have been blessed.

I was going to blog about the after-church activities, but I think I won't today. I missed Ash Wednesday somehow, it slipped right past me. But I think I'll chronicle my thoughts about the rest of this week's big events - Good Friday and praise God, Easter Sunday. So if you're interested in these kinds of things, stay tuned. If you're not, stay tuned anyway. It's fun here.

I'm a great mom!

When things are going well. I give lots of encouragement and specific praise, I genuinely adore my children when they are being, well, adorable, and nobody has been seriously hurt yet so I must do a decent job of protecting them from harm. But being a good parent has a lot more to it. I need to stay calm when they are freaking out, in control when I don't think I can take any more whining, and act gracefully when my plans change due to illness, fatigue, or other needs.

That being said, I don't think I am in the running for "Parent of the Year" today. We went to Chik-Fil-A after ladies' Bible study with our friends Rachel and Hudson (2). Upon pulling into the parking lot I realized that I did not have my purse or any money. Rachel agreed to spot us. We went in and LB and I ordered at the counter. I thought I'd seen BB go into the kids' play area, so I was unconcerned.

After I had ordered and went to find BB, I heard a woman's voice say, "Is this one yours?" There I found my son sitting at her table enjoying their waffle fries. He had started to go outside and she went to get him. I was embarrassed, but everyone was OK so I tried to be graceful about the whole deal. We found our table and I walked away to get high chairs. When I turned to return to the table I saw LB with his hand trapped in the play-area door while a nice businessman went to help him. LB was screaming one of those silent screams where I knew he was going to wail at any moment, so I lightly covered his mouth to protect my ears. So then I'm caught silencing my toddler because in my negligence he got his fingers pinched in a heavy door.

Oh, man, call the police and take me in.

Fortunately I was well fed emotionally before this all occurred, so I was able to see past my own embarrassment and not be too hard on myself. Maybe that's not my problem, though, as I let my kids traipse about Chik-Fil-A unaccompanied. All's well that ends well, the kids are in the bath and washing the CFA experience right off of them.

Sweet friends

This is BB's sweet friend from across the greenbelt. Couldn't you just eat them up? When they see each other both of them squeal and run toward each other. Then when they get close she runs the other way. It's adorable. This sweet friend is about to be a big sister to twin girls. Whenever I need my little girl fix I know where to go!

Fun at Granny's!

I shopped!

I went for a quick shopping trip yesterday to Ann Taylor. I love the pants there, there and can always find some that I love, but I was looking for tops yesterday. We were going out to dinner with some friends and I couldn't find anything in my closet full of clothes that I wanted to wear. We were to leave at 6:00, so at 3:30 I decided to go for a shop. Of course I went straight to the sale rack and actually found several tops that I bought. There was a jacket that I tried on last time I was there that had gone on sale, so I bought that, too.

I'm like a gorilla. I have long arms. It's hard for me to find jackets because the sleeves are usually too short. I had to buy a large to fit my arms, but the medium fit better around the middle. I think 3/4 length sleeves are in style, but not if they are supposed to be long. I'm not sure if 7/8 length sleeves are in.

After my trip to Ann Taylor I went to Steinmart and bought some shoes. I found some red peep-toe pumps that were tres chic, and a pair of animal print with gold rings on the top that were also very cute, but went with the basic blue pumps to match the 3 blue tops I bought. I must branch out on my color choices! I couldn't justify the red shoes, since I'm trying to buy more versatile ones. Can I wear red shoes with a patterned blue top? Maybe so.

See - I can shop when I'm in the mood. I guess it helps some to be alone so I don't act silly with my shopping partner. When we went to buy my maid-of-honor's bridesmaid's dress she and I couldn't settle down. We picked up PJs, bathing suits, boas and said to each other, "How about this? How about this?" Fortunately we had a third friend with us who sternly instructed, "Focus, you two." We found her a nice dress.

Voila. A new outfit and dinner out at PF Chang's with friends. It was fun.

Goings on

Uh...not much. I'm confused right now. Sometimes when LB take a long nap I get disoriented because I'm so used to the 45 minute nap. What will I do with myself? I've already started tonight's dinner in the crock pot, I've done my Bible study, messed around on Facebook, figured out what I'm going to try to bring to book club tonight, and now this. I feel like I'm forgetting something.

Some people might say I'm forgetting about keeping house. Hey - that's a novel idea. I do have some house cleaning to do. I think I'll just sit here instead.

Tonight's book club reading is "Persuasion" by Jane Austen. It was a good book, but I preferred "Knit 2" - the sequel to a book I passionately adored that made me laugh and cry out loud, "The Friday Night Knitting Club." I felt like a doofus thinking about recommending this book to the group because from what I've gathered so far, this is a pretty serious reading group. When I told my friend Diane that I joined a book club, she asked if it was the kind of book club where you actually read the book. It is.

When one of the members asked me last month what book I would like to read, I was struck dumb. I'm an educated woman, but my reading tastes are more toward the escape reading than the Serious Reading. I thought I'd wait to see what the trend in books is before I suggest a Danielle Steele as I'd joked about last time. Hopefully they knew it was a joke.

So that's it. My profound post of the day. See you around.