Back from California...

I'm back!

My trip to California was amazing.

I was alone. And relaxed. I laughed too loud and too hard and too long at anything that was even remotely humorous. It was so good to see all of my friends again... To roam the streets with Kristy and giggle at her adorableness and hang out in her comfy house...

the "let's see how awkward we can be" picture.

... and to admire Snag's dance moves and pretend like we didn't know him when he played the toy piano really loud in the bookstore...



...To stay up late and have encouraging conversations with Brook and Simon, all the while laughing so hard I was CONSTANTLY having to pee...




...And enjoying my dear friend Cameron-- seeing him do what God has created him to do and watch gobs and gobs of people be blessed by his work and his heart.



...And driving around with Jess and talking about life while little Jo-Jo hung out in his carseat and discovered how to "GASP!" after just minutes of being with me. (I no longer wonder where Ezra learned this "GASP!" from...as it turns out, I GASP twenty times a minute on average...)

Also, Seeing my sweet, precious, stunning Harmony get MARRIED and whisked away on her honeymoon... Indulging in Smokey Treats at the Gaddis' house... drinking the BEST cup of tea made by 'Tea Master' Darren Clarke... drawing goofy pictures with Jessie and Kristen... the list goes on and on and on.




I'd be lying if I said I was 100% ready to come back home when the trip was over. I missed my husband intensely while I was gone, and every little kid I saw reminded me of Ezra and sent a pang through my heart. But being on my own for 4 days was incredible. I felt like my old self again. No dirty dishes in the sink, no poopy diapers, no nap-times to schedule around or babysitters to find... just me. Me and old used book stores. Me and Nutty Bean coffee in the mornings.

I even enjoyed the flights to and from CA... I'm not much of a flyer... I usually dread the experience... but I was flying solo this time and didn't have to worry about how to pack Ezra's juice without becoming a suspected terrorist. (No liquids or gels on airplanes anymore... they even stole my chapstick. I can just see it now... "Watch out! She's got LIPSMACKERS!!" *frightened screams*) Even when I was thousands of feet up in the sky I was relaxed and grateful for my time away. I journaled and people-watched and listened to music. I looked out the window and saw clouds under my feet.

It's good to be home, but I'm still re-adjusting to reality. I find myself a little despondent and quick to lose my temper... It probably doesn't help that immediately after I got home, Ezra started TEETHING with his two year molars, making him a grouchy, gooey booger-making toddler in place of the non-teething, mellow, mostly-booger-free child I left behind.

And yet, he's getting so big and so smart. I love this age. Here's the latest evidence of his impressive knowledge of various zoological vocalizations:



brilliant.

My Mouth: Where the Root Canals Multiply like Rabbits.

this picture pretty much sums up the last few days of my life.
If you've been reading this blog for a little while, you may recall my past ramblings about how horribly awful my teeth are. If you are a new reader, let me tell you something... my teeth are HORRIBLY AWFUL.

The latest tooth drama started this past Thursday when I woke up with a throbbing toothache on the right side of my mouth. By the time I got around to calling my dentist, it was Friday AM and his office was closed for the weekend. Needless to say, this made for one extremely long weekend full of pain medicine and mushy bananas because I couldn't chew much else.

I planned to call the office first thing Monday morning, but I was awakened that morning by throbbing pain again- only this time it was coming from the LEFT side of my face. WHAT?! It moved! I made my appointment for later that day, and by the time I got into the dentist's office, the pain had moved AGAIN. Now it was coming from one of my eye teeth near the front of my mouth. I had never experienced anything like this before- I was having 3 toothaches all at once. It was like my teeth all got together and decided on a mutiny while I was sleeping one night. They all attacked at once and knocked me flat onto the couch where I held my face in my hands and whined INCESSANTLY for hours and days upon end. I think Chris went and bought some high-end ear plugs to ease his pain, and unfortunately I think Ezra has picked up a pointer or two on 'HOW TO BE RELENTLESSLY ANNOYING VIA INCESSANT GROANING AND MOANING WHILE HOLDING FACE.'

So, my dentist looks in my mouth and I'm watching his face to see the horrified look I just know he's going to shoot at his assistant when he peers into my cavern of decay, but instead he holds it together and orders a round of X-rays. After looking at the X-rays and listening to a condensed version of the weekend's INCESSANT MOANING AND GROANING, he informes me that I am in need of 4 more root canals.

That's not a typo.

FOUR.

As in, more than any single person has ever needed at the same time since the dawn of time FOUR.

Oh, and also? Each root canal needs a crown after that. Including the last two root canals I had that didn't get crowns on them before due to the fact that our insurance told us they wouldn't cover squat until our policy was in place for 6 months. So, if you'll do the math with me here, that's a total of 6 crowns. 4 root canals + 6 crowns + 6 months of insurance payments with no coverage to show for them = MUCH RED INK for the Family transaction records.

I'm hoping the root canal I get today will take away the majority of the pain because I have a vacation ahead of me in about two days, and I don't want my first solo retreat to be filled with constant weeping and gnashing of teeth. (I understand the description of hell in the Bible now: it's abscessed teeth.)



In the meantime, I'm thinking I'll give this guy a call.

Nightmarish Tacos

I was making tacos tonight, and I accidentally left one of the tortillas on the skillet too long when I was warming them up. I pulled it out of the skillet with my handy tongs, and when I flipped the tortilla over onto my cutting board, I was greeted by this image:




Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not used to being 'spooked' by corn tortillas, so I may have squealed like a sissy a little bit.

And backed away from the counter.

When Chris saw the spine-chilling tortilla, he suggested we take pictures of it and send them in to the local news station.

"Saturdays are usually slow news nights.", he mused.

I guf-awed and told him he was silly.

But then I remembered that a few nights ago, we were watching the local Oklahoma news, and they'd reported on a woman who claimed to have found the image of Jesus on a potato chip or a hairball or something like that, so I decided that if that freaky old lady could hog up precious air-time, then why the heck can't I?!

I sent my photo to News Channel 4.

Because, "When in Rome..."

In which Buzz is Beaten with Foam.

In which I speak of Poo.

Yesterday I went and got a little potty seat and a pack of the tiniest little Buzz Lightyear undies for my son. Because he's growing up. *sniff sniff* That means it's time to start tackling the toilet issue. It's still early, but I thought it would be good to have the things around so he can get used to them for awhile.

Yesterday, I took off his diaper so he could try on a little pair of undies while he was watching a movie. He was stoked on them for awhile but kept pulling his little wee-wee out of the top of them and then was repeatedly snapping the elastic waistband onto it. "Ummm... Ezra, that can't feel very good... why don't we leave little wee-meister in there, Okay?"

After that, he started trying to take the undies off all together, so I headed towards his room to grab a diaper to put on him instead. I got distracted in the office, and about two minutes later, Ezra came running back into the office and he was pointing out to the living room like he wanted to show me something. I immediatley realized I'd never put a diaper back on him, and I saw that the tip of his sock was wet.

"Oops. Must've peed on the floor.", I thought to myself as he led me back to the living room.

Instead he pulled me over by the table and showed me the little present he'd left me there.

A little poo.

He was gasping and pointing and rather exasperated over the fact that this alien object had come OUT OF HIM and he kept looking at me as if he were seeking the meaning of life from the depths of my eyes.

I showed him where a poo is supposed to go and let him flush it down the toilet. He thought this was all so wonderful and exciting, so the rest of the day he kept running back into the bathroom to check if the poo had come back yet. No such luck.

This could get interesting...

Pebble-maniac

Did you know I'm going on a vacation in 10 days? BY MYSELF? With no child and no hubby? What am I going to do with myself?! My dearest darling friend Harmony is getting married. Yay! I get to go back to San Luis Obispo for 4 days. And I'm so excited, but I'm starting to wonder- "what am I going to do with all that free time?"

I've grown so accustomed to taking care of Ezra all day everyday that I've forgotten what I did during the days before his existence. When I think really hard, though, I'm pretty sure my days consisted of luxurious massage treatments and delicious sour apple martinis and relaxing soaks in the hot tub. I'm pretty sure I pranced around town without a care in the world and spent hours upon hours reading novels and stimulating my mind. Yep.

Funny how glamorous the past can seem after you give birth to a child. Now, my days are filled with scraping hardened peanut butter off the floors and serving cups upon cups of diluted juicey juice to a not-so-patient 20-month-old... Hot Tub? What's a hot tub? Is that like when I bathe twice a week? And now I "prance" around town with umbrella strollers and a purse packed to the brim with sippy cups, day-old sippy cups, goldfish crackers (some crumbled to fine powder at the bottom of my bag, filling the nooks and crannies of my cellphone with cheese dust), fruit snacks, Thomas the Tank Engine, (God forbid we forget HIM), and a plastic dinosaur or two.

I'm excited to have a break and get some time to myself again, (not to mention being able to carry a purse that weighs less than 15 lbs.) but the thought of being Chris & Ezra-less for 4 days makes me a bit queasy. I'm not worried AT ALL about the actual 'not-being-around-to-manage-everything' aspect of this vacation. Chris manages things a bazillion times better than I do when I'm not around, and he also somehow manages to keep the sink free of dirty dish clutter at the same time. How does he do that?! It's one of the great mysteries of the universe to me. I'm more uneasy about just plain missing them. I'm trying to prepare myself so that I won't spend my ENTIRE vacation missing home, but the preparation is slow going. Ezra isn't helping with his 'I'm so dang cute and funny' phase. And I will miss Chris' RAIC as well. (Random Acts of Ice Cream.)

it just won't be the same without them

Yet, I know that there's nothing like 'getting away' for a bit to remind me of what I've got right in front of my nose. I'm sure by the end of those four days, that purse of mine will start to feel a little too light, and I'll probably revert to filling it with "souvenir rocks" to compensate. For those of you SLO-ians who are out there reading this, you have my permission to smack me if you catch me doing this. I don't need any more rocks. I need 'souvenir rocks' just about as much as I need a week-long bout with the Stomach Flu.

hehe.

I've got a Temper, and I'm not afraid to use it.

Here's some pictures from chris' Birthday Bash we had last weekend. (thanks for the pics, Joel!) It was lots of fun and it was the first time we had a group of peeps over since we moved into the new house. We all hung out on the porch and ate and talked and had smokey-treats. It was glorious. Ezra ran around and had a grand ol' time. Even though it was daddy's b-day, he got an alligator/crocodile/monster/dinosaur(?) suit from Chase and Liv. Woo woo! Now I don't have to stress about the Halloween costume madness. I think he makes a cute alligator/crocodile/monster/dinosaur, don't you?






On an entirely different subject, lets talk about this temper of mine.

We listed a Dell laptop computer on eBay today that Chris' parents had recently given him. We are selling it because we're trying to pool money to get a Macintosh Laptop for him instead. eBay was acting funny when I was trying to list the thing, and none of the buttons were working right on their webpage. I was getting SO frustrated and I kept muttering how I HATED this new eBay listing page... "Oh it's HORRIBLE... I'm clicking the stupid button and nothing is happening! Who designed this thing, apes with toes for fingers?" and so on and so forth... spewing my hate onto the screen like liquid hot magma. (And perhaps a gleek or two.)

Now, keep in mind that Chris is "that gentle hearted kind of guy" who recently confessed to me that he'd only hit TWO objects in his entire life out of pure frustration. I, on the other hand, have usually hit two things out of frustration BEFORE NOON on a daily basis. (Short temper + Instant Rage + Ridiculous behavior = ME.)

I guess I was clicking the mouse really hard and rapidly because later, at dinner, Chris asked if I had ever been so frustrated to where I had actually hit the computer before.

"No, of course not honey..." I replied innocently. "...The worst I ever do is throw my cell phone."

"Oh, okay.", he replied and made some reference to my hyperactive clicking finger that startled him with its speed and intensity earlier that evening. "I was just wondering."

I left out the fact that my cell phone may or may not have been aimed in the vicinity of the computer once or twice before and that prior to the era of cellphones, video game controllers and computer joysticks would typically bare the brunt of my adolescent wrath. I remember getting SO MAD at this Mickey Mouse's Haunted House game I had on Sega Genisis that I would keep a pillow nearby when I played it so I could bite it and scream into it to try and direct my rage into the pillow and away from the video game console itself.

I don't know why I tortured myself with games like that. I hated playing them. But I hated LOSING even more. It was a vicious cycle that only resolved itself when new and exciting things came along- things like holding hands with boys and keeping a running tab of "HUGS RECEIVED FROM BOYFRIEND" in my little pink diary. Each post started out: Dear Matilda, H3!!!! or Dear Matilda, H4!!!! My diary always had a name because then it felt like I was telling my secrets to a real friend. (I wasn't the most popular kid in Middle School.) And, of course, the H3 stood for: Hugs=3. (Again, NOT A LOT OF HUMAN FRIENDS at that time. More friends of the stuffed animal and imaginary friend persuasion than actual human ones...)

I had this dresser in my room all growing up with little flower knobs on it, and on the bottom drawer, near the back, I kept a scratch tally of how many times my Middle School boyfriend had hugged me. The scratch tally stayed on that bottom drawer for years and years and years until just recently when Chris and I decided to paint all of our dressers white. You know, so that they would all be the same color instead of a lovely array of light brown, dark brown, lighter brown, and a medium brown with skateboarding stickers plastered all over them. Nothing says GROWN-UP like a reflective "Skate or Die" sticker on your undies drawer...

Sand that 'Hug Tally!'

When we painted over the scratch tally, I couldn't help but feel a tug of sadness as I said goodbye to another childhood memento. Buried under white paint. Plastered over by another grown-up decision. No more 'hug tallies' or stuffed animal concerts. No more secrets to 'Matilda' or playing with GI Joes. (Dibs on Ninja!)

But then I watch my son talking to the dinosaurs he's carefully set up on the piano bench, and I realize that those days of childlike wonder and discovery aren't over, they are just beginning.

*collective "awwww"*

Wait! Weren't we talking about my temper? Where'd all this mushy-mush come from?

Anywho, yeah, I've got a temper and I'm not afraid to use it. Do any of you have quick tempers? Is it just me? What do you do with them? Mine is quite unruly and needs a time-out. Suggestions?

blah blee bloo

You all should try this, it's so fun!

My #1 match was Julianne Moore...(huh?!) but I thought this was closer...



Sorry for the lack of blogs the last few days. I've been working on my vintage clothing site a bit this week...

I'll write more very soon.

Quick update: Ezra has discovered the rapturous joy of POCKETS. In his PANTS. He walks around with his ping-pong ball in his pocket all day long and pulls it out at random times with a big exaggerated gesture and a startling, piercing "GASP!" that could peel the wallpaper off of the walls. He thinks he's sooo funny.

And he is.

This is what he does whenever I say "airplane"...
or "Buzz Lightyear"...
or "elephant".
(your guess is as good as mine.)

Newness.

the outlandishly handsome buggaboo.

Chris and I went out on a date last night. As in a real DATE. Like, where you go somewhere and there is no little person running around like an un-caged madman, making a b-line straight for the fireplace as if he's running to meet his destiny and don't you dare try to stop him or you'll ruin his ENTIRE LIFE forever and ever... Like, where you get to wear clothes from your stain-free pile on the floor that's gathering dust from its lack of use and you get to eat food like a normal person without making airplane sounds or clapping everytime your toddler swallows a crumb.

It was awesome.

Yesterday was Chris' birthday and we went to a restaurant on the lake and sat outside by the fireplace and watched the beautiful sunset over the water. We drank wine and ate fatty chicken and garlicy mashed potatoes and amazing keylime pie. The food was delicious and Chris and I actually talked about important life things and had a chance to get back on the same page again after months and months of not being able to be alone together and be RELAXED at the same time.

It seems whenever we have a moment away from Ezra, it's either because we are busy doing something, or we're too stressed out to connect on any level because I left my cell phone on the piano at home and Chris' cell phone has a dead battery or we didn't plan anything ahead of time so we drive around for an hour asking "what do you want to do?", "I dunno, what do you want to do?" before we end up parked in the driveway at our house again after only 45 minutes of being gone.

So, last night seriously felt like a honeymoon for us again- even though we only managed to stay out for two hours before heading back home again because the movies we wanted to see didn't start until 10:00PM and that's WAY TOO LATE... what do we look like, teenagers? Chris would be sleeping halfway through the movie and I would be thinking of nothing but my cozy pajamas and my good book sitting on my nightstand. We're wild ones, we are.

We talked of the future and where we want to end up and what we want to do with this life we've been given and how we miss our families so deeply that everytime Ezra does something new, their faces are in our minds and we long to share these moments with them. Ezra is growing so fast and these are times you can never get back and it's hard to be away from the people we want to share all of this joy with the most.

And then when we got home, we watched a movie with Jacquie called 'Nomad' about the story of Sara Groves and her journey to Rwanda and her desire to live life to the fullest and her desire to RUN and not walk to help her neighbors. She spoke of how, a few years earlier, she was a mother with two small children and she felt herself go into this mode where she was just "hugging the wall" and "barley making it through each day"... but a couple of years went by like this and her children grew older and she realized that this way of life just WASN'T ENOUGH for her. She didn't want her boys to grow up watching mommy "hugging the wall" and being afraid of everything all the time, so she decided to let go of the wall.

She took her family on the road with her (she's a musician) and then she traveled to Africa where her entire life perspective was CHANGED FOREVER and she was never the same again. She spoke of how she'd always been afraid to go to Africa or do big things because then she would come home with an Africa-sized burden on her shoulders on top of all of the other burdens she already carried and felt weighted down by in her day-to-day life. But she said that instead of an Africa-sized burden, she came home with a new perspective on her own life, and all those trivial burdens she'd been carrying fell off of her shoulders and she could finally stand up straight. For the first time ever.

She had just showed up for her own life.



This movie was the cry of my heart played out on the TV screen in my living room and I felt so full and torn after watching it, I felt like I could just BURST at the seams with tears and laughter and I felt like screaming and getting it all out and letting God into that place of fear I so often (no, ALWAYS) am living out of.

Chris and I looked at eachother and without any words we asked eachother, "What are we doing?"

This, where I'm at right now, isn't enough. I echo Sarah's words of desiring to burn wick, wax, and all to the ground until there's nothing left at the end and I'm all used up. I'm so grateful that I have a God who desires the same and a husband who wants nothing less.

Lord, guide us into the rocky waters where only You will know what's ahead.

I refuse to be anywhere else.

Ezra VS. The Robot

If the video doesn't show up below, try this link: Ezra VS. the Robot!