Well, we are heading off to the Oregon Coast this weekend for Labor Day and I am reminded of all the times that I have SAVED MY SISTER’S LIFE when the two of us are within any sort of water proximity together.
Please let me explain.
Don’t stop me if you’ve heard this before.
I, Ms. Battle Station, have saved my feeble and helpless little sister Audrey, from drowning THREE times in our short lives together. THREE different times! And the most amazing thing is that I was such a wee bitty youngin, only between the ages of 5-7 when the miraculous events took place. When these sensational acts of wonderment that she will FOREVER be indebted to me for took place. Because the nice thing about saving someone’s life is that you can totally hold it over the victim’s head for basically INFINITY (I love using that word) due to the fact that pretty much NOTHING can be done to repay or equalize the heroic act in return, therefore giving YOU the upper hand in any argument. Like this:
Meagerly and helpless Audrey: “Well, I watched Delaney for you the other night!”
Heroic and phenomenal Me: “Ya, well, I SAVED YOUR LIFE!”
Defenseless and unprotected Audrey: “I have helped you move the last five times!”
Brave and fearless Me: “Mmmm hmmm and I SAVED YOUR LIFE!”
Impotent and weak Audrey: “I’m pretty sure I have paid for the last three lunches.”
Sensational and stunning Me: “That’s true, let me think, I think there was something… oh yes, I SAVED YOUR LIFE.”
The last setting in the restaurant is fun because I could always raise my voice in the tiniest degree and add something to the effect of “I can’t believe you are doing this! I saved your life!” and then the people at the next table would, no doubt, look over at me and Audrey and think to themselves “My goodness, this wondrous woman saved that helpless woman’s life and the helpless woman is trying to get out of paying for lunch? Astonishing!” Because everyone knows, everyone knows that you owe and are forever indebted to the person that saved your life. Like, duh.
Where to begin?
The first time took place at a lake. My Dad was on the beach area and my Mom was in the water helping me practice my swimming. She was facing the beach area and I was in front of her when I casually and nonchalantly mentioned that Audrey was floating face down in the water out a ways in the lake. My Mom said she turned around to see Audrey JUST BARELY IN TIME before she sunk so far beneath the surface that no one would have seen her. My Mom rushed over to the spot where she saw her daughter sinking and grabbed her, brought her to the surface and turned her over. Audrey smiled and said something to the effect of “Was I swimming?” The creepy part was how Audrey wasn’t moving a muscle. She just let her body depreciate and sink like dead weight to the bottom of the lake, almost like she was meditating instead of drowning. Creepy Audrey, that’s what we call her.
Okay, so I really didn’t have much to do with the actual SAVING part of that event but I WAS the one that saw her before it was too late. So I get some of the credit.
Next story was at a lake again, but on the dock this time. We were standing on this dock with a group of adults, I think this was for some church activity or something, I probably should have checked my facts on these stories before I blasted them all over the internet, but nevertheless, we were standing on the dock with a bunch of adults. Then the cosmic forces stepped in again and decided that little baby Audrey should suffer so ALL AT ONCE the dock broke RIGHT where Audrey was standing. BOOM, dock breaks. BOOM, my cobra-like reflexes snapped into play and I SHOT OUT and grabbed Audrey’s life jacket strap just as she was falling into the depths of the abyss below. Another incident of death, Averted.
Alright so, she DID have her life jacket on and the water was only like 4 feet deep and there were about 15 adults around, BUT I did have a hand in preventing her death should her life jacket have come un-sewn and all the adults around were rendered useless due to the dock breaking in such a way that they were corralled and imprisoned within a makeshift dock barricade.
The last and final event took place at our house. We used to live in Washington, in a farming community outside of Seattle, we had some acreage and lived on a hillside with lots of Ponderosa Pine trees. It was a beautiful setting. I still don’t know exactly why, but my parents had these massive holes dug throughout our land, I think to aerate or fertilize or something or other, but the holes were about (in my memory of them) 4 feet wide and maybe 5 feet deep? Something like that. They were big deep holes in our yard. And it’s Washington so it rains all the live long day of every live long day, right? So each hole had approximately 3 feet of water sitting in the bottom of them. Freezing cold water.
My pal Eden and I were playing in the front yard when I thought I heard a small yelp. I asked Eden if she heard it and she didn’t. I decided to investigate anyway and after venturing into the backyard, I found that Audrey had fallen into one of the giant holes. I laid on my stomach, reached down in the hole and held Audrey out of the water as much as I could by holding onto her hands. I told Eden to go get my Mom.
Audrey was so numb and nearly frostbitten that she was hardly making a noise. My Mom put her in bath with tomato sauce. Am I remembering that right? Was it tomato sauce? That’s weird.
And there you have it. Another quick-thinking and courageous move on my part.
I will point out that my Sister DOES know how to swim now and I’m not foreseeing any problems at the Coast this weekend, but you never know. I’m still coming prepared by brushing up on my CPR and bringing an orange Lifeguard tube. And just in case the tradition is being passed down to the next generation, I’m having Delaney keep an eye on Mialee, Audrey’s daughter.
We had a great time in Laguna Beach. This first pic is from our meeting with my blog buddy Julie. This is me about to take a bite out of Julie’s Ethiopian daughter, Marlie. Can you blame me? Marlie is delicious, as you can see.
Julie is also delicious. I was resisting the urge to make a bouquet out of her purty purty hair. And make her put lotion on her skin so I could make an outfit later with it.
I’m trying to convince Julie and Marshall to leave their beautiful and comfortable life in sunny California and come live by me in Boise Idaho. So far, I think I have them about 3% convinced.
Laguna Beach. What can I say? It’s heaven. The people watching was superb. There were these two super cute girls there, college softball players, throwing a football back and forth to each other….. okay, even I wanted to make out with them. They were running up and down the beach in bikinis, throwing these amazingly arched spiral passes. EVERY male within a 5 mile radius was AWE STRUCK. And even though I wanted to be disgusted and pretend that their little game of girly-catchball didn’t interest me, I had to give them their glory. I could not divert my eyes. Neither could Erica, in fact, she took her camera out to take a picture of the unbelievable display of EVERY MAN’S FANTASY BEING PLAYED OUT BEFORE OUR EYES but we quickly decided that MIGHT not come across right. That’s creepy to take pictures of strangers at the beach, don’t do that. Plus, they could have crushed us like a little bug. Like a little bug, with their football.
The iconic image from Splash Mountain. Don’t think for one second that we spent $107 on this picture either, my quick thinking and magical friend Erica WHIPPED out her camera and snapped this sucker while it was still on the TV screen at the end of the ride. HA! Take THAT Disney! You think you know us, but we’re still rebels! We show no consideration for the law. None.
SORRY! I know! It’s been forever. I haven’t abandoned ship. I’ve just been overwhelmed, out of town or in a funk, depending on the day.
But I’m back! Get back a people, get back a HIT ME (little James Brown for ya there. You’re welcome)
Traveling to Ethiopia has been on my mind as of late. Basically, we are in complete denial that we are traveling to a Third World Country in as little as 6 months (if things go as planned - but realistically, it will be in 7-8 months I suppose) and I have been on a kick lately where I want AS MANY people AS POSSIBLE to come with us.
So this is my deal. I really do want as many family members and friends as possible to come. This excludes our three year old. I would rather travel with 65 Gollum clones than travel to Ethiopia with Delaney. The Gollum clones could argue with themselves, speak in raspy plural third person and try to steal my jewelry the whole time and I would STILL rather travel with them than Delaney. Our child, although she’ll argue that she’s one of the adults, is VERY particular about how she likes things. It sort of makes for me feeling like I’m serving a rock star rather than parenting a three year old, but nevertheless, I pick my battles and avoid meltdowns wherever possible so if that means she needs her chocolate milk in a RED cup by her RED plate on her RED blanket - so be it. But it doesn’t make well for ….. international travel to a third world country.
So Delaney’s out. But I would like darn near EVERYONE else to be IN. And my main reason is that I would like them there to experience the culture and actually SEE the country that our kids will come from. I think it will help everyone appreciate the history behind these kids and become a little more involved with this whole big crazy adoption thing, to learn more and maybe understand more. But mostly I just want help on the airplane.
But this is my other deal. What about traveling with a teenager? Have you ever traveled internationally with a teenager before? And if so, was the teenager as big of a cry baby as my brother Burke? My 16 year old, punk brother Burke?
My concern with Burke lies here. He could possibly be whinier and cryier than the three year old that we are vowing to leave home due to the foreseeable future of whining and crying on this journey across the world. The FOOD will be different, the SMELLS will be different, the AIR will be different, the TIME CHANGE will be different, the TOILETS AND BEDS AND SHOWERS AND ROOMS will be SO different than anything he has ever experienced and I have a big fat feeling that he’ll be a big fat baby about all of it.
Or, you know, he could totally man up and be great. It’s a risk. And it’s one that I remind him of EVERY time I see him lately. This is how it goes:
Me: “Burke, I’m concerned about you coming to Africa with us”
Burke: “……. what?”
Me: “I said, I’m CONCERNED about you coming to Africa with us”
Burke: “No, Ya, I’m coming to Africa with you guys”
Me: “No, I know you say you are coming to Africa with us, but I’m concerned about you coming”
Burke: “……. what?”
Me: “Ask me why I’m concerned about you coming to Africa with us.”
Burke: “…….. huh? what? why?”
Me: “I’m concerned because it’s going to be 30 hours of travel each way and the food and weather and accommodations are going to be really different for you.”
Burke: “…………………………..” (eating or checking his myspace or texting or watching tv or being TOTALLY distracted by something else)
Me: “I think you’re going to be a big fat baby about going and you’ll hate it and instead of us having 2 new babies in Africa, we’ll have 2 new babies and a third, slightly taller, slightly stinkier, English speaking baby to deal with too.”
I really get through to him. He respects me and my abundance of wisdom.
But my other deal is that I really want Burke to come. I think it would be life changing and amazing for him to come. I remember the first time that I saw extreme poverty and horrible living conditions, I was about his age, and I’ll never forget it. It changed my perspective on a lot. So I want him to come for that reason too. It would be really good for him and in the end, I think he would be glad he went. But I also don’t want to be all “SO BURKE, ARE YOU AMAZED YET? HAS YOUR PERSPECTIVE CHANGED YET? HOW ARE YOU FEELING BURKE, NOW? DO YOU APPRECIATE YOUR LIFE NOW? LOOK BURKE, LEARN A LESSON RIGHT NOW.” That’s annoying.
So, there’s my deal in a nutshell. I want family and friends there, but I’m concerned about my punk brother coming. And I know it’s unrealistic to expect people to come, but I at least want them to know their invited.
And I also know that there will be quiet times when just Mike and I want to be alone with the kids. I’m not concerned about this. Mainly because I’ll be all “Hey family and friends, we would like some alone time with our kids” and we have the type of family and friends that would be great with that.
Aaaaahhhhhh, it’s good to be back. I missed you guys.
In addition to doing this because it gives me an outlet and also because it helps me to feel creative and intelligent after a few days of incessantly rambling things like “wee offspring, please stop touching your front bum”, one of the other reasons that I love Blogging is the community aspect of it. I’m a social person, I like you guys. I enjoy getting to know ya’ll. Blogging buddies are some of the best buddies, you talk about what you want to talk about, you share what you want to share and they’re there when you need them but yet there’s no obligatory anything, not even ghastly husbands to pretend to like at obligatory couples dinners.
So, you can imagine my great surprise to find out that there are REAL LIVE people on the other sides of the blogs!
I know, it just blows my mind.
I can vouch for the fact that there REALLY is a Rae at Rachel’s Blatherings and there REALLY is a Tarah at Loving Each Day! I know because I got to meet them today. I was finally invited to hang out with the cool kids at the Zoo. A handful of fine, hysterical, adoptive Mommas and we had a good time.
But I have to admit, I was nervous about going simply because I liked these ladies…. and I didn’t want to meet them and ruin it. What if it isn’t ACTUALLY Rae and Tarah but instead some perverted internets named Bruce and Boris that were using blogging aliases? Or what if we meet and they don’t like me? What if we meet and I don’t like them? And then our Bloggy friendship is RUINED! It was a risk. But everything went super, they were indeed Rae and Tarah, not Bruce and Boris. And I’m glad I made the jump from “pretend internet friend” to “real person friend”.
Which reminds me, I’m off in the morning to sunny Los Angeles and while I’m there, I get to meet, and I know you’ll be incredibly jealous, Julie at My Journey to Family. And it’s ironic that her blog now says that SHE is leaving town so it looks as though she is running away from me, but in actuality, she will be back in time to meet me. At least, that’s what she told me before she left. Hmmm.
So, ya, meeting the bloggers. Interesting, no?
And now, my first attempt at posting a video.
I took this the other day while Mike was at school, knowing that he wouldn’t want to miss seeing his child ride her pretend horse while wearing a gangster’s hat, sunglasses and her incredibly cute mismatched outfit while at the same time listening to her Mom’s “clean house music” (Don’t judge me). It’s a tad long, but I love towards the end where the Lily Allen song begins and Delaney takes off her gangster’s hat right along with the music, just like we had practiced over and over and over and over again until she got it right.
Kidding. Although it’s no secret that I am meticulously grooming my daughter to be a dancer, I’m not one of THOSE Moms.
Hillary, Barack, John, Rudy, Ron, they are playing with my emotions and I don’t know what to do. I want to declare my love for one of them, snuggle up next to them and stay there throughout the 2008 elections. But I am wavering. I’m perplexed. I’m scared. I don’t know.
My deal with Hillary is this. She scares the living behooters out of me. Really, she does. Not in the sense that she is unpredictable or scary politically to me, it’s that she REALLY TRULY instills a sense of fear within me. Like a bully would. Or a feral animal would.
If you can’t tell from my global warming freaky and gay rights loving sidebar, I’m sort of a Lefty. On most issues, not ALL issues, but most. Hillary’s beliefs aren’t TOO off from my own, so it’s not that I’m afraid she’ll make horribly wrong political decisions, it’s just that I’m afraid she could get in the habit of sending blood-thirsty assassins after any non-believers is all. And since most of you reading this site could be categorized as “Hillary Non-Believers”, your future safety is a concern of mine should Hillary gets the Democratic nomination. I just can’t QUITE get the sense that she plays well with others.
I remember once that my cousin Rebekah was playing high school basketball and I went to one of her games. Upon seeing that there was a female Referee, Bekah groaned and pointed out disdainfully that “great, it’s a woman Ref.” I was confused, figuring that having a woman Ref might be in her benefit. But Bekah remarked that “female Refs are the worst, they always are out to prove something, that they are just as tough as the male Refs and they therefore overcompensate and take their Ref power beyond what’s necessary to make their point.”
It feels almost un-feminist to say this, but dude, HILLARY IS THAT REF!
Now Barack Barack Barack. I’m digging Barack. Cool, calm, collected. Educated, informed, communicative. But…….. does he REALLY know what he’s doing? Compared to Hillary, Barack still has training wheels on. He’s still learning not to take the corners too fast and to watch for cars. He still needs a spotter and an applauding, cheering, supportive crowd. In terms of KNOWING the system, having EXPERIENCED the fast lane, being FULLY familiar with their own stance on issues, Hillary is about 48 Nascar loops ahead of Barack. And I don’t necessarily feel like giving anybody anymore SLACK. Let’s just get on with it, no more learning curve PLEASE.
John Edwards. He’s nice, isn’t he? He sure is nice. Boy, he seems nice. He would apologize, you KNOW he would. If he was wrong, he’d admit it and apologize. So, Yep. He’s awfully nice.
Republicans.
I THINK if I were to vote Republican, I’d vote Ron Paul. So far, I like the guy. I haven’t seen much, but from what I’ve seen so far, I’m impressed! I think he has about as much chance of getting the nomination as a Playboy Bunny would, but what the heck, we’re talking hypothetically.
What I think I know so far about the Republican candidates:
Mitt Romney. Mormon. Ran the Olympics. Really wealthy. Untouched by reality.
Rudy Guiliani. Fighter. Unafraid. September 11th, that’s really all I know about him was how he handled the aftermath of Sept 11th.
Ron Paul. Interested in foreign relations. Would end war. Hated by McCain and Guiliani.
John McCain. Stubborn. Made a mistake while visiting Iraq recently.
The others aren’t on my radar yet.
With nearly 89% certainty I can say, at the end of the day, I’ll vote Democratic. Especially if Gore enters the race. But the controversy over Hillary and Barack is troubling me. I don’t think Hillary can win. I think people ALREADY made up their minds about her 10 years ago and she is incapable of changing them. But, she might get the nomination and then, well, I don’t know. I predict the Republicans would win because if Hillary scares ME and I’m ALREADY a Lefty, then how is she coming off to fence sitters and middle-grounders?
I know, I talked about politics on my blog. The last instance I heard of where a mommy blogger brought up politics was over at Rocks in my Dryer and after about 100 comments, she had to turn them off because people were screaming things like “Oprah and Barack Obama are the Anti-Christ and the Whores of Babylon!” NO JOKE. So….. this was risky I know, but really, if one of you thinks that Oprah is the Anti-Christ, then this site probably isn’t your cup of tea anyhow. Because speaking of Oprah that way at FOBS is considered Blasphemy. And if you think Hillary is scary mean, just wait until you are met with the FOBS wrath of Oprah-defendedness.
