You know those days that come around once in a while? The kind that leave you extremely thankful for the life you get to live? I call them perfect days. They often aren't days with elaborate events or monumental milestones; just a day when you take a small step back and truly take in all that is happening around you and realize that in that very moment, everything is exactly as it should be and you're so content with life, your soul fills up with all the good kind of stuff that takes your breath away.
I had that today. In a pumpkin patch.
My kids, all rosy cheeked and sticky from carmel apples, disolved into fits of giggles as their dad heaved himself atop a giant haystack and hoisted each of them into their air. They sought the perfect pumpkin in a field laden with all shapes and sizes of Jack-o-laterns in waiting. They weaved themselves through a giant corn maze, looking back to make sure that Mom and Dad were close behind. Ava befriended caterpillars, Gracie's hair flew as wild as a scarecrow's and Jake grinned his toothless grin at the brilliant sun every chance he could.
We snacked on hotdogs and popcorn, sailed into the sky on tire swings, careened down to earth on homemade slides, fed goats & baby chicks, posed for silly pictures and enjoyed doing what every family should do - just being together.
It began as a small Sunday drive to a local pumpkin farm and it ended up being one of the best days of my life. No elaborate events, no monumental milestones...just a simple, yet perfect day that reminded me of how very blessed I am to have this life and to love the people in it.
My soul runneth over.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Who is this Iron Man anyway??
...and why in the bloody hell can't I find his damn costume?
So, we're getting ready for Halloween around here, which entails the loathesome trip to the specialty store laden with every princess, witch, clown, grim reaper, zoo animal and super hero costume ever created. That is, except for Iron Man. Which happens to be the only costume my six year old son, Jake, has his entire hopes and dreams on having for the big Trick or Treat night. I actually have lost count on how many stores we've perused in search of a size large Iron Man costume. The first couple of stops didn't discourage me. "How many little boys honestly are dressing up as Iron Man this year?", I asked myself. Uh, evidently every single one within 20 miles of the greater metro area, because by store number seven, reality start to set in and I realized that it was time for some savvy negotiations. Do you know how hard it is to make Darth Vader or a Storm Trooper more appealing than Iron Man? Getting this kid to give up the location of WMDs would be an easier task than convincing him of a costume other than Iron Man. He's not whiny or defiant about it. He just very clearly knows what he wants and isn't willing to compromise and choose another lesser superhero. I didn't realize there was a heirarchy of superheroism, but evidently there is, and let me tell you - Iron Man rules supreme this year.
So, what does an intelligent, sane mom do? Does she sit down her child and explain the poorly executed supply/demand position on Iron Man costumes and talk him into another costume? Does she take this opportunity to teach young Jake the life lesson that we don't always get what we want? Does she firmly tell him to make another decision or miss out entirely on his sixth Halloween?
No, she madly googles, ebays and yahoos her way through the internet in order to find a size large Iron Man costume so that as her sweet, toothless first grader canvases the neighborhood, trick-or-treating in the costume of his hopes and dreams and knows that Iron Man has nothing on Mom - his real superhero!
So, we're getting ready for Halloween around here, which entails the loathesome trip to the specialty store laden with every princess, witch, clown, grim reaper, zoo animal and super hero costume ever created. That is, except for Iron Man. Which happens to be the only costume my six year old son, Jake, has his entire hopes and dreams on having for the big Trick or Treat night. I actually have lost count on how many stores we've perused in search of a size large Iron Man costume. The first couple of stops didn't discourage me. "How many little boys honestly are dressing up as Iron Man this year?", I asked myself. Uh, evidently every single one within 20 miles of the greater metro area, because by store number seven, reality start to set in and I realized that it was time for some savvy negotiations. Do you know how hard it is to make Darth Vader or a Storm Trooper more appealing than Iron Man? Getting this kid to give up the location of WMDs would be an easier task than convincing him of a costume other than Iron Man. He's not whiny or defiant about it. He just very clearly knows what he wants and isn't willing to compromise and choose another lesser superhero. I didn't realize there was a heirarchy of superheroism, but evidently there is, and let me tell you - Iron Man rules supreme this year.
So, what does an intelligent, sane mom do? Does she sit down her child and explain the poorly executed supply/demand position on Iron Man costumes and talk him into another costume? Does she take this opportunity to teach young Jake the life lesson that we don't always get what we want? Does she firmly tell him to make another decision or miss out entirely on his sixth Halloween?
No, she madly googles, ebays and yahoos her way through the internet in order to find a size large Iron Man costume so that as her sweet, toothless first grader canvases the neighborhood, trick-or-treating in the costume of his hopes and dreams and knows that Iron Man has nothing on Mom - his real superhero!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Blog Virgin
Ok, so this is my first foray into the blogging world. I've always been tempted to create my home little slice of home for the words and whimsy that surely nobody but me is interested in, but my limited technical experience and knowledge made me gunshy. "But I have so much to tell the world", I thought. I have no idea if the world cares, but what a shame to withhold even a mere iota of wisdom should someone, far away, in a small village, who faced with the dilemma of buying Hostess Twinkies versus Dolly Madison Zingers, would be deprived of my vast knowlege of both. My blogs, no doubt will be void of true intellect, but filled with life experiences that I hope most of us can identify with. My URL is entitled "womanhood is not for sissies". But is for sisters and I hope to find many of you out there. I am, without being boastful or pompous, Woman Extroadinaire. Quite fankly, we all are. I was just lucky the name wasn't taken. You will hear extensively about my kids, my husband, my swamped life, possibly my spoiled dogs and most certainly about every fear, doubt, triumph, failure, dream and letdown I experience. I hope you'll glimpse a bit of yourself in my life, I hope you'll relate to the tribulations of laundry and moody husbands with me, I hope you'll let yourself off the hook when you see how low I set the standards for my own housekeeping abilities, but most of all, I hope you laugh - at the best parts of everything life hands us.
PS: Hostess. Always go with Hostess.
PS: Hostess. Always go with Hostess.
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