The craziest thing happened today.
Josh and Layla had gone on a walk around our house to go "exploring" and wound up coming home with a treasure. While walking by a dirt field, Josh had glanced over and noticed a dusty briefcase resting on the ground, partially open with it's contents flapping around (Josh is the one that always sees something on the ground. Seriously, dude misses nothing. But I digress...).Josh was curious, so he brought it home so we could take a closer look and maybe figure out who it belonged to.
I have to interject here and just let you guys know that by this point, I was having a full-on Jason Bourne experience. I felt like Liam Neison was about to break down my door. It was awesome.
Anyway, when we opened it up we found little hand written letters to a guy (we'll call him Bob, naturally, to protect his identity) from his girlfriend (we'll call her Jane), all from 1986. We read them (don't judge! you know you would have read them too!) and learned that Jane was a freshman at college and her boyfriend Bob was a high school senior. Evidently, Bob didn't like that Jane was away at school and they broke up. Then Jane got a little boiled bunny about the situation, but probably got over it. It's a very tragic story. If you're fourteen.
Oh, and Jane mentioned her birthday was March 3rd, which is our anniversary. Which made me feel like Jason Bourne all over again.
So, Josh and I were all set to throw the briefcase away, when our imaginations started to get the best of us. What if Bob had been murdered? By Jane? And the briefcase was there because she rid his home of all evidence of her? Or, what if Bob had lost these precious memories by accident? And he was desperate to have them back?
There was no phone number for Bob in the briefcase. So Bob got Googled. And man, there are a lot of Bobs in the world. So we dug around more and discovered that there was a Bob who had moved to Albuquerque from the same town that our Bob was from. Bob had a Facebook page. Jackpot.
While we debated over whether or not to write to Bob, we took a look through his friends (wow, this story is really showing our nosy side...hmmm...) just to make sure it was the same Bob. While we did, we talked about how weird it was to know something personal about a perfect stranger. At one point Josh turned to me and said, "I bet we know more about that guy in this respect than all 200 of his Facebook friends." He's probably right.
By the way, in case you're wondering, Bob is not Facebook friends with Jane. We checked.
I hate to tell you, but the end of this story turns out a bit anti-climatic. We decided not to write to Bob. Suddenly, knowing he was alive and well, our over-active imaginations came up with entirely new scenarios. What if Bob was making a fresh start and he just wanted to chuck that briefcase into a field and be done with it? It's closure. Okay, maybe not eco-friendly closure, but closure nonetheless.
In the end, we threw the briefcase out. It may not have been the crazy chase scene, hanging out the window and shooting at the car behind us, Angelina Jolie style. Nothing self-destructed. But it was fun anyway. And much less stressful.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Say whaaaat?!
"Dear God, thanks for helping Mommy make a delicious dinner. And I'm sorry that I ran out of toilet paper and used the shower curtain. Amen."
~Layla, saying the prayer at dinner, 02/11/2011
Yeah. She had a lot of explaining to do.
~Layla, saying the prayer at dinner, 02/11/2011
Yeah. She had a lot of explaining to do.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The Incredibles
"Domestic diva" is a joke.
It began around four years ago, shortly after my husband and I got married. Like most twenty three year old brides, I was hopeless. I couldn't cook. The faint notion I had of cleaning involved cramming everything into a closet and closing the door; The "it looks clean, therefore it is clean" approach. I was faced with not being naturally good at something, and let me tell you, I hated it.
One night, after many previous failures, I made the world's most perfect pot roast. I carried it to the table, presented it with great flourish and announced, "I AM A DOMESTIC DIVA", in an elaborate, and obnoxious, English accent (or at least, that's what I was aiming for. Every accent I try sounds Jamacian to me). From then on out, I would do the same thing every time an attempted domestic activity ended well. My husband Josh started doing it too (his English accent is much better). It was one of the first inside jokes of our marriage.
I learned two important things about my husband in our first year of marriage. First, the man has a stomach of steel and can eat practically anything (Thank God). Second, and most importantly, he doesn't care about my domestic skills, or lack thereof. I lucked out.
Now, four years later, I'm still learning, and still, on occasion, proclaiming myself to be a Domestic Diva.
Only now, I have two more guinea pigs.
My daughter Layla is three years old and looks like she belongs on top of a Christmas tree. But don't let those giant blue eyes fool you, she's one tough cookie. She is opinionated and sharp and the first one to tell you when she doesn't like what you have to say. Josh and I joke that we should have known when you combine two stubborn people, you create a stubborn person twice as stubborn. She is also so sweet and considerate it will melt your heart. We had a huge snow storm last week and I went into her room to find her sitting on her rug, looking out the window, crying. When I asked her what was wrong she answered (well, wailed, really),"The birds are cold! They don't have jackets!". She has the world's biggest heart.
My son Benjamin is sixteen months old and the happiest baby you will ever meet in your life. Have you ever read Angela's Ashes? It's a pretty tragic book, but there's a line in it that always reminds me of Ben. When talking about a baby that's just been born, a character in the books says that "There must have been a holiday in Heaven the day that baby was born", referring to the baby's constant happiness. He's happy when he wakes up, happy when he goes to sleep, and happy in between. He's only ever upset when he's hungry (or as Josh and I joke, "hangry", a hybrid of hungry and angry). He has his sisters giant blue eyes and a shock of blond hair, a surprise considering Josh and I are both brunette. If you hear that he's not Josh's baby, but Tom Brady's, I assure you, that's just a rumor. That I started.
Another important detail of my life; my kids love each other. Like, really, actually love each other because they want to, not because we force them to (much). They walk around the house holding hands. They play all day with very minor squabbles. They hug and kiss each other without being bribed. Layla refers to Ben as "my handsome prince". They are BFFs and I hope it lasts. Layla calls us "The Incredibles" after the superhero family. Her newest thing is asking for another baby brother, because The Incredibles had two boys and a big sister. I can't figure out a kid-appropriate way to stress to her that after giving birth to roughly twenty pounds of baby, I'm not exactly eager to do it again. I think my silence has been enough of an answer for her, at least for now.
I'm not 100% sure of the purpose of this blog. I want to talk (okay, brag) about my kids, but I try to remember who I was before I was a mom and stay on top of subjects that interest me. For example, I'm definitely into music. Anyone who has spoken to me for at least five minutes over the last year knows of my obsession with Vampire Weekend (I'm sure I'll have more to say about that soon). I am into movies and books as much as I can be with two kids who would be content watching Dora The Explorer until the end of time. I stay as up-to-date on politics and World events as I can (warning: you will at some point be forced to listen to my tree-huggin opinion on just about everything). I have an insanely intelligent husband and we have amazing conversations about all of the above, that I just might recite back word for word. Like I said, I'm not completely sure yet.
But I know that I'm ready to find out...Are you?
It began around four years ago, shortly after my husband and I got married. Like most twenty three year old brides, I was hopeless. I couldn't cook. The faint notion I had of cleaning involved cramming everything into a closet and closing the door; The "it looks clean, therefore it is clean" approach. I was faced with not being naturally good at something, and let me tell you, I hated it.
One night, after many previous failures, I made the world's most perfect pot roast. I carried it to the table, presented it with great flourish and announced, "I AM A DOMESTIC DIVA", in an elaborate, and obnoxious, English accent (or at least, that's what I was aiming for. Every accent I try sounds Jamacian to me). From then on out, I would do the same thing every time an attempted domestic activity ended well. My husband Josh started doing it too (his English accent is much better). It was one of the first inside jokes of our marriage.
I learned two important things about my husband in our first year of marriage. First, the man has a stomach of steel and can eat practically anything (Thank God). Second, and most importantly, he doesn't care about my domestic skills, or lack thereof. I lucked out.
Now, four years later, I'm still learning, and still, on occasion, proclaiming myself to be a Domestic Diva.
Only now, I have two more guinea pigs.
My daughter Layla is three years old and looks like she belongs on top of a Christmas tree. But don't let those giant blue eyes fool you, she's one tough cookie. She is opinionated and sharp and the first one to tell you when she doesn't like what you have to say. Josh and I joke that we should have known when you combine two stubborn people, you create a stubborn person twice as stubborn. She is also so sweet and considerate it will melt your heart. We had a huge snow storm last week and I went into her room to find her sitting on her rug, looking out the window, crying. When I asked her what was wrong she answered (well, wailed, really),"The birds are cold! They don't have jackets!". She has the world's biggest heart.
My son Benjamin is sixteen months old and the happiest baby you will ever meet in your life. Have you ever read Angela's Ashes? It's a pretty tragic book, but there's a line in it that always reminds me of Ben. When talking about a baby that's just been born, a character in the books says that "There must have been a holiday in Heaven the day that baby was born", referring to the baby's constant happiness. He's happy when he wakes up, happy when he goes to sleep, and happy in between. He's only ever upset when he's hungry (or as Josh and I joke, "hangry", a hybrid of hungry and angry). He has his sisters giant blue eyes and a shock of blond hair, a surprise considering Josh and I are both brunette. If you hear that he's not Josh's baby, but Tom Brady's, I assure you, that's just a rumor. That I started.
Another important detail of my life; my kids love each other. Like, really, actually love each other because they want to, not because we force them to (much). They walk around the house holding hands. They play all day with very minor squabbles. They hug and kiss each other without being bribed. Layla refers to Ben as "my handsome prince". They are BFFs and I hope it lasts. Layla calls us "The Incredibles" after the superhero family. Her newest thing is asking for another baby brother, because The Incredibles had two boys and a big sister. I can't figure out a kid-appropriate way to stress to her that after giving birth to roughly twenty pounds of baby, I'm not exactly eager to do it again. I think my silence has been enough of an answer for her, at least for now.
I'm not 100% sure of the purpose of this blog. I want to talk (okay, brag) about my kids, but I try to remember who I was before I was a mom and stay on top of subjects that interest me. For example, I'm definitely into music. Anyone who has spoken to me for at least five minutes over the last year knows of my obsession with Vampire Weekend (I'm sure I'll have more to say about that soon). I am into movies and books as much as I can be with two kids who would be content watching Dora The Explorer until the end of time. I stay as up-to-date on politics and World events as I can (warning: you will at some point be forced to listen to my tree-huggin opinion on just about everything). I have an insanely intelligent husband and we have amazing conversations about all of the above, that I just might recite back word for word. Like I said, I'm not completely sure yet.
But I know that I'm ready to find out...Are you?
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