a note for Kate

Hi Kate,
Thanks for your ongoing support and interest in the things I've written. I feel lucky to know you and I really do feel like I know you despite the distance because of your blog. And so I've added a link on my page for my friends to check out to. This is definately exhibitionist...I want to be associated with you. Your posts have been interesting and inspiring. And if I keep at it, I'm going to steal your idea of list making. Thanks for all of it! Across the pond hugs.
Love, Shawna

Two little things

When I started this blog I had the intention of archiving a little of what is said to be the prime of my life and a little of my children's childhoods. Alas, I am remiss. Why? Two little things went on inside my head as I looked back at my own blog:

1. I came to the realization that I complain A LOT. My cousin and bestest friend (even when I am angry at her for moving across the country) said' "I could have told you that." and my husband just smiled, without comment (which might actually be a survival technique).

2. Another friend suggested that my blog may be a bit exhibitionist (substitute show-offish to understand my interpretation) Hmmm, am I really showing off? Putting my best foot forward. Have I made what should be private a little too public? Hmmmm. Food for thought.

Anyway, just wanted you all to know about the spaces in my posts. I'm still thinking about it myself. I, as always, still have a lot to say and could happily go on and on and on. But will I? or is this the end of my notes? Time will tell.

Overstating the obvious

In the past year, I have discovered that I have a real pet peeve. Quite simply put, I am annoyed by the overstating of the obvious. For example, I have this girlfriend who is almost six feet tall. And people will say to her (and often) "Boy, you're sure tall." Well no. Duh. She always thought she was short, or at least average (that's sarcasm for the few of you that may have missed it). She doesn't even notice it anymore but I do. And now its started happening to me.

"Are they all yours?" people will ask in reference to the short line of little people trailing after me as ducks waddle behind their mothers. "Yes, yes they are." And I smile as politely as possible and continue walking to avoid further comment. Sometimes this avoidance tactic is successful but more often not. Inevitably, the follow up comment comes, "You're sure a busy mom." Well no, do you think? The sarcasm drips but only quietly in my mind. Rarely do I have the nerve...

Instead I smile and nod and walk on. And seethe. How does overstating the obvious help anyone? Is it necessary to point out how busy I am? So is every other mom I know, even the ones with just one babe. And if I don't happen to think I'm that busy, should I worry that I'm doing something wrong? My tall friend who is really quite average in her family...should she start feeling like some sort of unusual freak that she is not? What is the purpose of telling her that she is tall? Is it the need to fill the quiet that makes people say such stupid things? Is it an attempt to connect with another human being? There has to be a better way...one slightly less annoying.

Refrigerator Poetry

I have this little magnetic set of poetry on my refrigerator. Many people do. We love this game, even the little people in our house are into it and think its fun to create silly sentences. Right now its a neatly organized mush of words. I have been reluctant to mess it up, many visitors have even participated in creating it but I've noticed that we're losing interest in playing with it. And its there for the kids to take an interest in reading and creating ideas, and its there for my amusement. And so, here's the list of all the things we've come up with, so I can take it apart and start over:

sweet rose petal a tiny gift
a luscious purple dream girl is swimming beneath the winter sky
a delirious blue haired woman screamed as she hot waxed her enormous sweaty breasts (or substitute butts or legs for breasts...we sure giggled about that, childish I know but it is what it is)
a chocolate garden
black fiddle apparatus at his feet
a friend urges you to elaborate
wet sausage is so repulsive (maybe to you, Carrie!!)
drooling is a weakness felt by most (speak for yourself James!)
I say please when I want love
I never stare at your mother fluffing your bare pink behind
a powerful picture
worship the sea and run from the iron (or TV!)
delicate smear
I love puppys (Zoe did this one and that's how you spell Puppies in this game)
sing for our milk and honey
these diamonds are gorgeous
lazy drives through the forest are a bloody sad time (for who? James)
life is a rocky and bitter place (really? James?)
incubate my crush on you (that's mine!)
she wanted the only moon to tell her of lusty needs (I think this lusty girl might be experiencing one of the best parts of pregnancy!! She even used the words "jump me" to describe her husband's reaction to a new outfit she bought)
drunk together in a summer rain storm (wow, I am poetic)
manipulate language to whisper smoothly
water beds leave him and her panting, moaning, heaving, shaking, and soaring (Wow, Sarah, those hormones are really kicking you up a notch!)
he says eternity is a fast road but some will have it easy
men lathering franticly in cool springs (correct spelling of compound words can be difficult)
goddess of death symphony
recall true beauty as you play
watch me dress
those who smell will cry sordid chants
its an ugly day to eat peaches (go Aidan!)
cook it in some juice
an egg boiling in white sun light
stop if it aches
a thousand languid lies
mad for red meat tongue
delicate smear

There that was cleansing, now I'll just take a photo and mess the whole thing up so we can start over. Happy Poetry!!