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Showing posts from March, 2008

About that hiatus...

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We have just returned from a delightful mini-vacation, sans kids. I would have told you, faithful readers, that I was leaving, but I didn't want to put that much information out here on the interweb where all the scaries could read it and deduce that my house sat empty. Which wasn't actually the case - in fact it was quite filled up with grandparents and kiddos - but either way, I didn't want to give the stalkers the notion that it would be okay to come knocking. Not that anyone coming to take anything out of my house would actually find anything worth taking. Seriously. If you're reading this and thinking about breaking into my house the next time I accidentally mention we're going on vacation, let me save you some time: Don't bother. Unless you're REALLY into High School Musical. Then we could probably hook you up. So like I was saying, this morning we stepped off a ship, having sailed the high seas for the last 4 nights. Though we are well-tanned, well-fe...

My Easter Thoughts

If "He is Risen" is central to our status as children of God, people of faith, righteous under Christ... Why isn't every Sunday - "Easter" Sunday?

Entertaining

We are wrapping up a week of Good Old Fashioned Family Entertainment here in the AmyWrites household. I was planning to write about the first episode, but the hits just kept on coming, so here is, now, a recap of some solidly entertaining chunks of time. Friday : Dan in Real Life . This film had so much going for it ( Steve Carrell ) straight out of the box that it would have had to work really hard to let us down. Refreshingly wholesome, completely family-friendly, it's one of those that you can recommend without disclaimers. And it contains one of the greatest lines ever uttered by a teenage movie character. If you've seen it, I'll let you guess to which one I am referring. Saturday: Annie Okay, I already wrote about this one, but it's not every week that I get to see TWO stage shows within a few days of each other. Sunday: 9:30 Service Are we not entertained? Come on, we had a revival break out during the southern gospel number. Sunday Night: The Martian Chi...

Exasperating

From time to time on Tuesdays, I will host a "piano class," rather than individual lessons. This is a time for all of my students to come at the same time, perform for each other, learn something together, and enjoy some treats. It gives them a chance to relax from the intensity of a one-on-one with me. Yesterday was that day. As each student took her turn at the piano, I realized why this job is so stressful: My teacher/student relationship with each one of them rests on my ability to determine just exactly how much disappointment is the right amount to show each week. It's a tough balance, and I don't have it figured out. They want to be encouraged, but I can't encourage garbage. But if I show my true feelings about their lack of progress, they burst into tears. And then, on the very rare occasion when one of them does have a good week at the piano, I'm so over-the-top enthused that they think they've mollified me and can slack off for a few weeks. It ma...

Heartwarming

I took my daughter to see Annie this weekend. It was a production put on by my high school, so I knew it would be good. ( No, really. My high school produces some pretty incredible shows. ) I knew it would be good. I knew we'd have a good time. I knew she'd sing along and be enchanted by the kids on stage. I knew we'd be a little bit moved. But what I didn't expect was what would move me. See, I enjoy both the benefits and drawbacks of living in the shadow of my alma mater. Benefits: I get to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there. Drawbacks: I have to see people I know, often. And I can send my kids there. So I dressed for the evening expecting to see people I knew. (Always opt for the slimming when heading back to high school.) And it happened. It happened at the ticket window (classmate) and in the bathroom (Latin teacher) and near the programs. (very extended family) It happened when we took our seats (preschool teacher) and then when the lights d...

To Geek or Not to Geek? Part 2

A local mall is hosting "The Big People Spelling Bee." I love Spelling Bees. I love movies about Spelling Bees . One time, I won a Spelling Bee. I even got to go to the District Championship or something, but I got kind of bored in the middle and left. Mainly because it was at the County Fair, and who wants to sit inside with a bunch of spelling kids when there are rides to be ridden and funnel cakes to be eaten? I meet the requirements - that is, I am a great speller and I am over 21. And I'm a fan of the Literacy Coalition . At least, I think I am. I'm all for literacy. But am I all for standing up in the middle of the mall and spelling my heart out? Alone? I need a spelling buddy. Anyone in?

What about ME?

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Earlier this week, we went to the park. This is your typical East Ft. Lauderdale park, populated by Nannies and kids with names like "Kennedy." (which I happen to think is a really cool name). I'm sure if we were to sell all the cars in the parking lot, we could feed a small impoverished nation. In spite of its glittering social scene, we love this park. Having grown up playing Tee Ball in these fields and tennis on these courts, I feel at home here. I feel a sense of belonging. A sense of oneness with this acreage in the middle of town. I feel, a little bit, like I own this place. Until Tuesday. On Tuesday, as I packed up the car I noticed that the car next to me had received a glossy postcard shoved into the driver's window. "European Spa & Wax." I checked my window to remove my postcard before I closed the door, but - no postcard. I checked the ground so I could keep from littering, but didn't see it. I assumed, at this point, that the car next to...

I've got a good one!

Local radio station was having a de-stress joke -off or something yesterday morning. Local radio host posted his favorite joke ever, over here . It's pretty funny. It inspired me to tell a joke: Three couples are planning their second annual no-kids, no-work getaway cruise. The raucous fun sets sail in about two weeks. Climbing aboard are the church's youth pastor and his wife, the church's former finance committee chair and his wife (also an avid church volunteer), and a couple active in youth group and local Bible study. Also climbing aboard, on an unrelated, completely coincidental trip, is the church's senior pastor. You know, the youth pastor's boss. Get it? Oh, wait. That's not a joke.

I meant to post this on Friday, but Friday was crazy.

I have a five year old. That is, WE have a five year old. For five years now, my life has more or less been about keeping this small person (and the subsequent small person) alive. And healthy. And happy. For 25 years, life was about us. Then March 7 came. We had celebrated our 3rd anniversary on Wednesday with a dinner at Carrabba's. I had another 3 weeks to go, we thought. At my weekly appointment on Thursday, the doctor had different news. Better news. "You're SURE you're not feeling any contractions or anything? Because you're between 3 and 4 centimeters...Go home, start timing, and I'll see you soon." We checked in at 4:30 the next morning and our first daughter was born by 11. I don't know if you've had the experience of being the main player of an attraction who is treated as if she isn't in the room, but it's pretty weird. I wasn't with it enough to ask a lot of questions but I heard things like "prolapse" and ...

A List. Amy-Style.

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CoolMum & Dad have been posting about music lately - and it's had me stumbling down melody lane. Everyone loves a good list, right? Top 5 movies of all time, top 5 restaurants in town, top 5 rock ballads...oooh, rock ballads... The cool 'rents posted about their favorite love songs, complete with videos! But because my brain doesn't seem to work like other people's, my imaginary list-making turned into a blog. I seem unable to just make a list, without wondering WHY my list is the way it is. Por ejemplo, why is it that my favorite sing-a-long songs all tell some kind of story? I don't seem to opt for the love songs or the party songs. No, I crank it up for Don McLean's American Pie and Meatloaf's (yes, I said Meatloaf) Paradise by the Dashboard Light . At the top of my lungs, I sing along with Neil Diamond telling the story of Brother Love and his Travelin' Salvation Show. (Hallelujah!) And Billy Joel...well, he just gets his own list, but my favor...

Giving credit where it's due

Say what you will about our Commander in Chief - the human who has the most difficult job on the planet, the man who is forced to make decisions that affect, yes, quite literally, the entire world . I am in no position to defend him nor can I suppose that I would do the job any better. (And: newsflash! you're probably not either, sorry that you had to hear it here.) But I always believe in giving credit where it's due, and I can do that by pointing you to this brilliant article by Bob Geldof about the President's accomplishments in and heart for Africa. (HT: Mark Lee )

Apparently, caffeine is my muse.

See what happens when I subtract caffeine? A week without caffeine = A week without blogs. Hmmm. Did the detox turn off my brain, as well as my dreams? Stay tuned. P.S. The dreams haven't actually turned off, they're just waning in intensity. Last night involved dining in Boston with imaginary friends of a real friend and my college-aged brother visiting from school (he's 28 and married with 2 kids in real life and never went to school in Boston) and, somehow, me losing a large wooden tooth from the bottom of my bite. I woke up frantically checking for all of my teeth.