Frankencrap

Mark thinks this "Frankenstorm" may be a load of crap... I get it -- those crazy alarmists out to scare the rest of us. Well, I like a little scare every now and then to keep life interesting and momentarily suspend me in a state of "what-ifs" and "holy craps." --That is, until our second hour without electricity and after I've gone into the kitchen for the third time and hit the light switch, snorted, and said, "Oh yeah."

So our conversation about the storm over the last few days has gone something like this (me, the storm enthusiast, and Mark, the logical loon):

Me: They're saying this storm could be big.
Mark: It'll probably be nothing.
Me: I don't know... The news is saying...
Mark: Alarmists.
Me: Did you see the projected path? I know it could change, but...
Mark: It's off the coast, may not even make landfall.
Me (2 days later): News says it shouldn't cause the same flooding as Irene, but we should prepare for possible power outages.
Mark: Let me see that...

Why do boys do this?! We're on an email list with our friends, and a female friend from Texas wrote the other day, "Will be thinking of you guys when the storm hits." A male friend replied: "It'll probably be nothing."

To me, this isn't a "Don't worry, everything will be ok" type of response.

I take it as a personal attack against my optimism -- which I admit is a little misplaced in hoping that a storm will wreak havoc in our lives. I don't want anyone to get hurt or have their home damaged -- but a little power outage may be an exciting challenge for a day or two. Just a change from the day to day routine. Something to speculate about around the water cooler.

And, yeah, I totally see how I create my own emotional Frankenstorm probably to add some excitement to my life some days... But that's another topic of emotional exploration that I don't want to explore right now.

My point is that boys are mean (or just need to be 100% logical/doubtful all the time)... therefore challenging my ability to read a map (with a single-direction storm flying at us). Or would much rather say "Wow, that was one hell of a storm..." instead of later admitting that they had an emotional reaction to something that turned out to be nothing.

-Which annoys me, and I don't know why. Maybe I need my emotions validated. Can he say, "I hope it'll just pass over us, but we should get some extra supplies." Or even better: "Holy crap balls!!! Let's head for the hills!" That sounds fun. And validating.

As much as I'm annoyed by this difference in our reactions, it has a good side too...

Yesterday I wanted to call one of the local B&Bs to see if they had a room we could use for Ellie's first birthday. Mark said, "I don't think they're open."

"Well, I just want to call and check," I replied. Mark: "They took the sign down months ago." Me: "Well, maybe they're not open for business but would still be willing to rent a room. You know the owner, maybe you can talk to her."

To Mark: sign down + door closed + no lights on = business closed.

To me: sign down -> try knocking -> try calling -> try new place ...

There's never an end to trying until I succeed (or get distracted by something else). There's always moving forward and life and hope. There's always a next step, other opportunities. We balance each other well this way.

And I love when his logic loses out and I can show him a world where anything is possible and God truly exists -- through us and our actions (and sometimes beyond that).

Anyhoo, in this situation... I'm starting to hope that he's right about Frankenstorm being a load of Frankencrap.

Regardless, we're all stocked up with extra water, diapers, and food! And a little bit of excitement from the lady who needs things to stay interesting around here.

My Wait

I've been trying to get this shot (well, not this one) all summer! I think I may have missed my opportunity this season, but we'll see what next weekend brings.

I've watched this calf grow up as I passed this farm each day on my way to bring E to day care. She has a habit of wandering out of the barn and settling under the crooked tree just as the sun rises over the mountains, evaporating any foggy mists in its path. She soaks up the warmth, and the crooked tree glows in a massive halo above her. The reason the tree glows so much is because a colony of spiders have spent the night weaving intricate webs from branch to branch, each strand strung with beads of morning dew.

It's breathtaking -- warm, and magical. If I could only capture it with my camera. Each day that the shot was just perfect, I had E with me. I couldn't pull over and leave her in the car while I ventured out to get my photo. I'm adventurous enough to take her with me, but I knew to get just the right angle I'd have to walk alongside the busy highway in a spot that I wouldn't be very visible to oncoming traffic -- definitely not baby nor mommy safe.

I decided to wait. Each day that I passed that perfect photo, I took it in and gave it more thought -- what angle I would get, which lens I would use. I wondered if the iPhone would be sufficient if I could just capture that moment.

This Saturday morning I was finally alone on that road, and though it wasn't the perfect moment, I thought I would scope out the scene. This is the photo I took -- the lighting is right, the cow was there, but that's about it. I now know that I need my digital SLR, possibly my telephoto lens, and just the right moment. I need to get there before sunrise on a warm, fall morning and wait.

Before I had E, I wouldn't have waited. I would have gotten a hurried, okay shot and been just fine with it. Now I'm suddenly fine with waiting. In fact, it's more than fine. I'm enjoying waiting, enjoying wondering if I really need this photo, taking pleasure in planning my next visit to that dirt road.

I don't know what's changed. I suppose I don't have time to do the things I used to do. I'm forced to slow down and focus all my energy on some seemingly small tasks -- bathing a baby, making dinner, reading a bedtime story.

These are the important things. I know that now.

So, this photo is not my extraordinary shot, my breathtaking moment. This photo is my wait. And I might just love it more.

Today Was a Good Day

Happenings
Today was a good day... Even though E got up at 3am and only took one (very) short nap, I felt motivated to get my butt out the door and over to my friend's house for her son's 1st birthday party.

We had planned to go to another friend's wood moving party today, but Mark was sick, and E is still sniffling a bit, though she seemed up to stopping by the birthday party which was closer to home.

This was one of our first long outings I've done on my own (if you don't count that trip to New York a few months back), and I think we did great! She was so well-behaved and loved socializing with everyone. This is when I'm so glad she has day care!

She fell asleep on the way home, and we had some fun family time tonight. Just an all-around good day (more pics on Instagram).

And now I'm excited to plan E's party in January! Thinking about undertaking the sprinkle cake... Hmm...

Weather in VT
Gorgeous, sunny, high 60s!
Birthday cake, laughing babies, campfire time, and good friends!

Why Does Blue Have to Use Clues?

Happenings
I've been putting Sesame Street on for E lately. Though I thought Blues Clues was her favorite show, it turns out that she thinks any show geared toward her is Blues Clues -- including Sesame Street. And thank God, because I can only watch Steve solve so many dog mysteries before I go crazy.

Also, I've found myself over-analyzing it. Like, if Blue can show Steve all these imaginary worlds and step into books, etc., why can't she show him exactly what she wants? Why does she have to place clues? Instead of a clue, couldn't she just put her paw print on what she wants? Like, a glass of lemonade -- instead of a glass, ice, and lemons?? Is this just a game to her?!

Well, it's a game I'm sick of playing. Sesame Street tackles the more important issues -- like the generation gap between a caveman father and his cave-son in this skit with Bert and Ernie. Bert (cavedad) keeps finding trash Ernie has left around the cave -- a piece of paper, a dinosaur juicebox. Each time he finds a piece of trash, Ernie is ordered to take it to the dump. Ernie just wants to bang on his drum all day.

Instead, he has to make several individual trips to the dump before (in this scene) wondering out loud how he can gather all of his trash into one container to make only one trip to the dump each day.

After Ernie's speech, Bert tilts his head to the side and says, exasperated, "Dreamer..."

Ernie then flips his drum upside down to use as a trash bin.

Watching this scene, I realized... I am Ernie, but I'm still making multiple trips (literally and figuratively) to the real/proverbial dump to remove the clutter from my house/brain -- taking the long way around, dreaming of ways to live more efficiently, more happily, more family-focused.

And, like Ernie, I am a "dreamer" -- proud of it! What I love most about this skit (beside the fact that it's pretty funny) is that Ernie took something fun, that he loved to do, flipped it and used it to make his life better. The answer was right in front of him, just upside down. It may be an unconventional solution, but that's why it works!

Next time Ellie says, "Up! Up!" for me to flip her upside down, maybe I'll take a peek too -- into an opposite world where boxes hang from the ceiling and drums become bins.

Quote of the Day
E on the swing: Woah.... woah!!!
Me: I've never heard you say that before! We need to do more exciting things!

Listening to
Jenny Jenkins, Lisa Loeb

Weather in VT
Beautiful! Sunny, warmer, and I took E to the park today and for a walk!

Get to the Choppah!!

Yesterday morning I overheard Mark talking to E in his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice--

Ellie! Stop taking yo socks off!! It's cold outside! I can't protect you like this!

Yeah, I love him.