on being a collector

i read something interesting on another blog this morning, while sipping my coffee in the dark farmhouse... (yes, i finally learned to make coffee at home - so THERE starbucks)

"The problem is that my collection rate is greater than my archive rate."

now, mind you, the sweet lady who wrote this was probably talking about her crafting projects.

however, i find that this quote directly applies to my ... life. and my sock basket.

(do you have a sock basket in your laundry room? are we normal?)

last night a friend said to me... " i was telling you this all along... and then when it finally became YOUR idea (*um, three years later, I should mention) then you realized i was right." he was right. it took me three long years to cross something i had "collected" off my list of collections. all because i had to do it in my own time. which is never a good thing. just take a look at our sock basket.

so. herein lies the problem. well. not really a problem. more like a solution. a means to an end.

i collect.

grief.
heartache.
situations.
dust.
trouble.
bills.
dreams.
drama.
(and oh yes, socks)

i take that list of bs (and my basket of socks) and never take enough time to cross anything off. i guess it's easier to continue making the list than it is to attain any of the goals or accomplish anything related to the items on it.

right?

so. i am a collector. socks and otherwise. i think i am ready to stop my collecting.

now, i would like to find a nice way to showcase my collectibles under nice glass boxes with proper lighting (we'll call it the rachael gallery) and lock the door and move on.

all my collected items will be somewhere pretty, and i can move on the achieve section of my above quote. we can open this fine gallery of collectibles from life from time to time for others to view and learn from and ill even come back and be the head docent and say important things like, i told you so and you should listen more often than you speak.

sound good? hope so. because my coffee is gone, i neeeed a shower, and my son will soon be stirring.

have a good day. with less collecting. more achieving.

yummy.

The girls .... well - SB and I - made these yummy brownies last night, courtesy of Bakerella. We even invited Mimi and Pa over from The Grandcastle to share. Sharing is fun. Especially when it involves chocolate chip cookie dough. Yummy. I also think we will be having them for breakfast. With eggs, of course.

placecard

eight o'clock

bookworm

Pause.

You'll just have to find a way to endure this torture while I figure out something to write about...

Dear Landon. Month Three.

Dear Landon.

Today you are twelve weeks old. Three months. Eighty-four days. A whole bunch of hours. A gazillion or so minutes.

The last three months have been life changing, and I am not sure where the time has gone. Seems like yesterday that I was impatiently awaiting the doctor to release you from the NICU. Now you're smiling and laughing and oh yes, sleeping all night. The latter of three being the most impressive thus far. But, the smiling is nice too.

I wish I could say we were "working out the kinks" in your schedule. But, hello, that would be a bold face lie. We're just happy when you do the same thing for forty-eight hours, much less develop a whole entire consistent schedule. Schedule? What's that? You'll hear of no such thing. I say this is a definite peek into the future... of you knowing that you will more than likely always be able to charm anyone into whatever you want. This will work to your advantage one day. Just not now. Mostly because I've been to this rodeo before, my friend.

This past month you and your daddy finally held hands. A moment I have been waiting on for forever it feels like. I couldn't trade those initial moments of introduction for any amount of money. Yeah. I love him. So much sometimes it hurts. But, we can't have everything we want (life lesson #1)... so, I am settling for friendship... for you. The one that you saved, singlehandedly. You are changing lives, everyday. You don't know it yet, but you are. A lesson in ... just laying down everything and moving forward.

Now, speaking of Him (your father) I must mention that you didn't stick with our plan of you know, giving him hard time for at least a year - since you went right ahead smiling ear to ear whenever you see him... however, that's okay... we'll save the hard time for when you're thirteen through twenty-one. And wow, like, trading a year for like, eight? Now THAT'S what I call a deal.

It's very precious to watch anyone become a parent for the first time. That you could have a part in something so great... so amazing... one day you will understand this.

I took you to visit Aunt Becca and Uncle Brandon this month. Your very first trip to Charleston. Your very first complete bath by a dog. Beau was so excited I think he wanted to change diapers himself. Of course, with no thumbs, this remains hard for him to accomplish. He settled for eight million kisses instead. Aunt Tracey babysat and Uncle Brandon took you to the "boys" section of the store. In any case, you were delightful and dined and strolled like all the other good Charlestonians do. To say the least, you um - fit RIGHT in. Could be a Citadel in your future. Mike Company, preferably. With Aunt Becca as your librarian.

The next few months will bring even more changes, I am certain. I am just lucky and blessed to know you will be a part of every one. Waited my whole life to do this thing with you? Absolutely.

in case you might be wondering.

This weekend I plan to

a. stay in my pajamas.
b. vaccum everything.
c. seriously take the rest of the christmas stuff to storage. seriously. i swear.
d. make minestrone soup (reference #1).
e. read my new books.
f. give my dog a bath (um. yes. really i will.)

g. do all of the above.

Of course, because the temperature is a balmy 11 degrees here, I have already rushed out with the rest of Georgia to buy up a year's supply of loaf bread and milk. Just in case we need to survive on milk sandwiches alone.

In other news, my brain is so fried that yesterday I had to ask my former spouse to make a decision for the girls because, HELLO, I can't think about anything else. My brain is currently on overload. This weekend, however, it plans to be on vacation.

In the meantime, please enjoy this picture of Landon, who turns three months old tomorrow.



Please. Resist. The. Urge. Calm those ovaries down.

in my circle.

...in a rare moment of complete loveliness.

two. roads.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Two roads. Diverged. I stood there, holding my little son, and stared. For a long time. Long. At first, I could only see one road... albeit rocky and full of potholes. There were caution lights flashing all around it. STOP. WAIT. DO NOT ENTER. Despite it's ominous appearance... something about this road was... familiar to me. I looked down and Landon. He batted his eyes and told me he trusted me. I don't know where this road will take me. Could be good, could be bad.

Then, I looked around, and noticed the Other Road. Grassy. Green. Warm. Comforting. Full of all the things a journey should hold. I guess I knew it was there all along - maybe I just didn't notice it as much before. Maybe I thought that road - the one that looks traveled and peaceful - maybe I thought things like that weren't meant for me. I looked down at Landon again. Sleeping. Trusting me to decide for him.

I tried my cell phone. Call a friend. They will know which path takes me where I want to go. Friends always have good directions. No service way out here, God said. Decide this one for youself.

I looked behind me. The road was rocky. Treacherous. But. It got me here. With Landon. Somehow, I know I'm his keeper. The one who delivered him here to change peoples lives. He's doing it already. I saw the moutains we climbed. The bridges we burned. The road in complete disrepair.

So. Here I am. The path behind me... the paths in front of me.

I stuck a foot onto the grassy, green path... the one that looked peaceful and calm. The one that has a definite, solid outcome. The sunshine felt good on my face. I have never tried this path... the normal, well-worn, everyday path... not once. A little... much.

I turned around and went back to the crossroads. Can't make this decision quickly, despite how easy the choice might seem.

Road Sign appears. A road sign I trust. More than anything.

REMEMBER GOD GAVE US HE KNOWLEDGE OF RIGHT AND WRONG, GOOD AND BAD , AND THAT GUT FEELING USUALLY IS RIGHT. AND SOMETIMES DOING THE RIGHT THING IS THE HARDEST TO DO.

What is the right thing? Isn't there a map around here somewhere? I know where I want to be... where I hope to end up.

But I am not sure which way takes me there.

Love. Child.

This afternoon, I had company. The kind that comes and stays. I had a headache. I was tired. Emotionally stressed. On... overload. For a million plus one reasons.

In any case. I didn't get much done. I didn't figure out any solutions to my problems... no answers to my troubles of the soul. But . I did decide one thing. I love this little boy in a way I cannot describe. In a way that is powerful beyond explanation. Maybe it's his big blue eyes. It's definitely something.

This needs to go in my dining room, dontcha think?

This print will soon be hanging in my house....



Like, where was this sign in my life when I NEEDED it? That and one of these, please....



I think that should do it.

The Boy.

We don't talk about Jackson enough anymore...

Lord have mercy on my soul. This boy, with the only exception being my own boy, has completely stolen my heart. Can you seriously resist this face? This face, by the way, is always sticky and covered in some type of goo... albeit syrup or juice or lotion or dog hair (eww) ... something... the child's face is a perpetual mess. It's become a trademark of sorts. Hence the black and white photography... makes for less... um, DETAILS.

The boy has TEETH. A mouthful of them. DO NOT listen when Jenn asks you to stick your finger in his mouth. Resist. The. Urge. Because, I am just telling you - he WILL NOT release. Kinda like a snapping turtle. Jenn thinks this kind of humor is like, very funny. I find it very painful. Especially because I stuck my finger right in there. It still hurts. Don't let the sweet/innocent/blond look fool you. He's vicious, I'm telling you.

And you have never in your life met SUCH a boy. He loves making things "go" and throwing himself backwards into everything... most especially his Mama. When he's very excited or very upset he thrashes around like a small dinosaur. The Christmas Tree was only decorated from the top to about half way down - because Jackson found it very entertaining to smash ornaments into the floor this year. Naturally, everything goes right into his mouth for a quick taste test... and what goes in, DEFINITELY comes out. Also do not let Jenn trick you into changing a diaper. EVER. It's a mean and nasty trick. MEAN. Trying to hold Jackson DOWN while you do the change is like wrestling with a shark. So, good luck with all that.

Don't worry. I plan to make sure he has Polo shirts and good table manners. Promise.

What can you "not" see in the picture above? Oh. That's right... all the BLUE cookie icing smeared all over his face, tray and pajamas. At one point during Christmas, I heard Jennifer tell Brian that his son had cheesecake.... in his hair.

He's also started talking. So far it's all blah blah ya ya and Mama - but "Landon" is in the works... right now it sounds more like NaNon, but the boy is trying, people. I am also currently working on "Aunt Rachael Rocks" and "Aunt Rachael You Are So Beautiful Let Me Give You Sugar". I'll keep you posted. Jenn has taken him to the dentist already (she's like, reallllllly into the oral hygiene thing) and he's scheduled to meet with a speech therapist to help him learn to use the all new and improved roof of his mouth. Jenn is SUCH a good Mama - the people at the cranio-facial doctor's office told her it was one of the best cleft repairs they'd ever seen.

Jenn reminds me often of what a good, patient Mama she is. For Christmas, I bought Jackson a book of stories for one-year-olds. I bought it because Jenn was admiring it in the bookstore - and because I knew that being the Mother of the Year that she is, she'd be reading it to him everyday.

Speaking of his Mama, could he love anyone any more than her? Seriously. I have to remind him often that I was STANDING RIGHT THERE when he poked his little head into the world.

I am getting her back by posting her picture right here on the internet. Enjoy.

xoxo

Christmas 2008 - A Review

Here we are on the third day of the New Year - and I am sitting in my living room still contemplating how in the world Christmas managed to explode so heinously in my living room. And why is it that the mess only somehow looks worse when you start to clean it up? When do the elves come and put away my tree? WHEN??

There is, at some point every year, a ridiculous splurge purchase of something so tacky Christmas that it can't be avoided. This year's purchase was a mini - pre-lit flocked PINK tree. It was toootally on clearance... and, well... it spoke to me. It matches nothing in my house - and i have no need for another tree - however, I felt the Farmhouse was really where the little pink guy needed to be. We found a perfect home on the front porch. And then I went really crazy and made a garland out of big puffy pom-poms. Well, mostly I slaved the children into making the garland - because my ADD doesn't really allow for sitting still long enough to complete anything of that nature.

The garland turned out precious, and we hung our "special" ornaments out there.

Every year we spent a vast amount of time arguing over which set of ornaments to use on the tree. Yes. You heard me correctly... which "set." We're nerdy that way about Christmas around here... we have "the blue set" , 'the silver set" and ... the "colorful" set. If we were going with public opinion, every year we'd do the "colorful" set - as this tree is commonly referred to by all who vist... "Rachael's Big Colorful Tree." However, in lieu of seemingly our last year as the Girly Girl House - we vamped out this year's tree with as much silver and glitz and glamour possible. Of course, in honor of Landon, we threw in the token blue.

We spent our holiday surrounded by the people that matter the most... it was full of cookies (ok, maybe a few too many cookies) and love and ... well, complete chaos. What would a holiday be without complete chaos? Every year that passes is another reminder of how fleeting precious moments are... this year, for the first time, we had to reconfigure Mimi's Christmas Village to accommodate the girls growing... can't really fit it into the floor anymore... so we upgraded the real estate and gave The Village the dining room table. Since the configuration of The Village requires an entire day or two spent in pajamas in the dining , it will probably stay up through January. OR until the train starts to drive us to drink.

The girls are finally home from a week long visit with their dad and his family... complete with lots of good food and time spent playing the ever-popular Wii. Such luxuries do not exist at The Farm - however - blissfully, since they've been back - they are spending time together peacefully. What more can the New Year bring?