Clairisms, part 3

Things are gradually slowing down and one day soon I might again gather thoughts of my own to occupy this space, but today, Claire gets the floor again.

"Dear God, please help Evan sleep till he wakes up."

"I'm going to obey right away soon."

"Dear God, thank you for curtain rods and the bright moon."

"Is the sky moving, Mom?" (while cloud-watching)

"I flushed very quietly."

"You look like a child, Evan!"

Conversation at the gym:
Claire -- What is that?
Me -- Trash. Somebody threw it on the ground.
Claire -- Why?
Me -- I guess they didn't see a trash can. That was lazy.
Claire -- It was lazy?
Me -- Yes.
Claire -- Oh. I know that girl.

More from Claire

On my salad: "What kind of leaves are in your bowl?"

While watching people work out through a glass wall at the gym: "Is that real or is it a picture?" I really liked this one because it reminded me of one of my earliest memories: watching "Sesame Street" and wondering if I'd be able to touch Big Bird if I could somehow break through the screen. Fortunately, I didn't try.

On Evan crying upon waking up from a nap: "Evan doesn't know how to climb out of his crib?"

When I referred to an acquaintance as "Heather": "No, her name is 'Isaac's mom.'"

While driving past the Pinehurst water tower: "I wish I could climb Pinehurst." "'Climb Pinehurst'? You mean the water tower?" "Yep."

"Please can I have a brownie? I love you so much."

"What shall we have for snack?" (Probably thanks to the song we all have stuck in our heads, "There's a Hole in My Bucket." The third verse begins, "With what shall I fix it ...")

Cat carrier = vet box

Tongs = snatcher

Peeling an apple = unwrapping an apple

Parking spot = car hole

Recent questions and quotations from the one and only Claire

"Who is God's mama? Who is God's daddy?"

"What makes our car go?"

"Does God cry when He falls down?"

As I was complaining about how long a stoplight was taking to change: "Be patient, Mommy. It's gonna turn green in a minute."

"Is double two?" (I confirmed.) "I'm gonna be triple on my birthday!"

As I was singing "Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This": "There's a song about you?"

When I asked if she wanted a ceiling fan in her new bedroom: "No. I want a chandelier."

As I took a right on red: "Red light! STOP!"

Out of the blue, mid-stanza, as we sang "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean": "Mom, I don't like potatoes."

Lazy days

I love the week between Christmas and New Year's. All my life it has been an extension of Christmas because it's when we go to Atlanta to celebrate with Dad's side of the family. It's also where Amanda has celebrated every one of her birthdays, which has always worked out well for her -- double gifts!

I'd be lying if I said I'm not a little apprehensive about the drive tomorrow, but the kids tend to surprise me with how well they do in the car. And having Matt along makes all the difference. I have friends who drive two or three kids halfway across the country to visit family while their husbands are deployed, and my hat's off to them. I might be able to pull it off, but I'm glad I don't have to.

For now, Claire's happy talking and reading for several hours at a time. Evan is more restless but will probably doze a lot. We don't have a DVD player in the car but we'll have my laptop and we're going to bring our one kids' DVD, "Happy Feet," which RonRon gave Claire for Christmas -- just in case -- plus plenty of snacks and small toys to offer up when antsiness starts to kick in.

This is completely unrelated but I just remembered the funniest thing Riley said and I have to post it so it's not forgotten. Her family was on the way to a dinner to celebrate Carrie's sister's birthday and while they were riding in the car they had this conversation:

Riley: Where are we going to eat?
Jacob: Outback. (As in Outback Steakhouse.)
Riley: YAY!!!
Riley: Of what building?

For the record

I tend to walk past people I know without acknowledging them. Constantly, from what I'm told. It has taken Matt years to realize I'm honestly not ignoring or avoiding these people, I just don't notice them. Making eye contact is something I need to work on.

One infamous incident happened a few years ago. I was supposed to meet Matt and Stephen at Chick-fil-A for lunch. I got there, got a table and waited. After a few minutes I called Matt to see where they were. To my surprise, they were in the booth directly across from me. Apparently I had walked right past them to get to my seat and, amazed at my oblivion, they had decided to stay there and see how long it would take me to spot them -- which I never did.

Another example: At the gym I usually run and then spend a little time doing core work. One day last week I had been doing pushups and ab work for about five minutes when the guy beside me on the mat said, "Hey, Jenn." It was Jacob, and he'd been there the whole time.

And another example: Last week at Caleb's party, Johnathan told me he sees me driving all the time and does everything he can think of to get my attention but I never notice him -- even though he's usually driving a sherrif's car.

Matt finds this trait baffling and incredible and, I think, mildly annoying. I admit it is bad when the people I pass without speaking think I'm being a snob. I am not!

But I prefer to put a positive spin on it. My ability to focus, tuning out background "noise," is why I'm able to edit, write or read on the couch while Matt sits beside me watching TV.  And at least I'm not checking out the guy beside me at the gym, right?

Seriously, though. If you and I know each other and you see me out and I haven't spoken to you, it's safe to assume I haven't seen you, so please make the first move -- and if you don't, don't get huffy that I didn't. What's your excuse?

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Yesterday:

Me: "I sure do love your daddy, Claire!"
Claire: "I love Daddy."
Me: "Yep, we both love him."
Claire: "No, I love him! You're an old woman."

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The long-awaited, much-anticipated moment of Meg's blog reveal has arrived! I can't believe it. Check it out. Meg, you made my day!

Punk

Just got back from my next-to-last round of triple coupons at Harris Teeter. A high school guy checked me out. I was about to walk away with my bags when ...

Cashier: Wait!
Me: Oh, I forgot to sign. But I don't have to sign ... [because the total was under $25]
Cashier: No, you forgot to pay.
Me: I did pay. I hit "I accept" and everything.
Cashier: Well, you need to do it again.
Me: OK ... I just don't want it to go through twice.
Cashier: It won't. And if it does, you can bring in your receipt and they'll be happy to give you your [checks receipt] $3.39 back [definitely making fun of me].

P.S. Thank you to Renee for giving me a bunch of great coupons yesterday at church! It is so much easier, cleaner and more civilized to be given coupons than to go Dumpster-diving for them.

Life is good

We sold the Acura yesterday and in cleaning out the console I found an old scrap of paper on which I'd scribbled some comments that tickled my funny bone and I didn't want to forget:

Matt: "We're living in an age of quarterback depletion." (re: fantasy football strategy)

*****

Amanda: "Well, if their hearts aren't growing warm, their voices are growing husky." (re: Christian romance novels)

*****

Me: "Thank you for getting me this chapstick!"
Amanda or Mom: "I didn't get it for you, I found it in the couch." (I remember this exchange taking place in the hotel on our New York trip, but I don't remember which of them said this! Amanda and Mom, do you?)

*****

I want to extend major props to Mom for going to a yard sale this weekend where she noticed they were selling Bum Genius one-sizes for $10 each, a great price (plus a boatload of other cloth diapers and accessories). She called me and Amanda and I ended up buying five for $6 each, so I now have 16 and am done. With these extra five I will keep washing a load of diapers once a day but now I can line-dry them, saving on electricity, plus keep one or two in the diaper bag at all times.

The first 11 I received as gifts, so these are the first diapers I've bought (except for disposables for babysitters) so our out-of-pocket expense for diapers for Claire is $30. Boo-yah!

Check this out: The mirror hanging over our fireplace (which Dad rescued from the dump, gave to me, and I painted) is featured in an Etsy treasury right now! This doesn't really mean anything, it's just cool.

Matt beat me in fantasy football this week by 2.5 points because I stupidly overmanaged my team and benched Tony Romo, who exceeded all expectations to get something like 22 points. Grrr. Next time, husband ... next time ...

I think I mentioned we're going to be listing our house next week. Because of that we cleaned out the garage this weekend so potential buyers will understand it can be used to park cars as well as store junk. Matt has decided, and I must agree, that our handy-dandy manual lawn mower will not be joining us at future homes, now that it's been replaced with a loud, gas-guzzling version of itself. So ... anyone want to claim this thing? You can read about its merits here.

4 snippets and the funeral

Grandma Loyd's funeral was beautiful, moving and inspiring. The two pastors who spoke captured her perfectly, emphasizing how well she loved and embraced everyone she encountered, from her closest family and friends to the people who took care of her in rehab over the past couple of months. The associate pastor, a guy about my age who spent time with her while she was in the nursing home, choked up while recalling how she extended that loving spirit "even to a young preacher she barely knew."

There were also several mentions of her "smile that could light up Atlanta" -- she always radiated pure delight when someone she loved walked into the room -- and the pastors read a selection of her favorite scriptures, most of which were Psalms.

Grandma loved music, a fact that was reflected in the service. Long-time family friends Warren, Brian and Leah beautifully performed "Ashokan Farewell" and "Friends Like You." The pastor described how Grandma and Grandpa met, at a YWCA dance after World War II: He spotted her, he asked her to dance, soon everyone else had stopped to watch, and they danced together for the next 60 years. And she (the pastor) brought a lot of us to tears when she told how Grandma sang "I'll Be Loving You, Always" to Grandpa just last week.

The family requested memorial gifts to Grandma and Grandpa's church in lieu of flowers, but quite a few people sent gorgeous arrangements anyway. I couldn't believe that even the Chick-fil-A where they eat ALL the time sent a peace lily. Maybe there's a genetic component to my CFA obsession.

There was a crowded visitation Tuesday night, another before the funeral on Wednesday, and another informal one at the burial. A lot of people loved her, that's for sure. What a well-lived life.

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On Monday Kate and I had coffee (yay for federal holidays) and I remembered to take a picture of my punch card. It's a little dark; in case you can't read it, someone -- I still don't know who -- wrote: "Drink this coffee for time -- CrossFit rules."

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Matt (reading): "Forever" should always be one word, right?

Me: Yes.

Matt: You've turned me into an editor. (Pause) I'm, like, the editor who can't spell his own name.
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Person who shall remain nameless (not Matt): This is a dumb question, but approximately ... means, like, an approximation, not exact, right?

Me: Yes.

Person who shall remain nameless: You can forget I asked that.

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This painted mirror (which Terry really deserves more credit for than I do -- I found it at a Goodwill and she used it to teach me a sponging technique several years ago) made it to an Etsy treasury themed "Fairest of Them All." Cool!

Back in the day

When Matt and I moved to Raleigh, in January 2004, I was working for an online journal of religious news. Basically, I perused the Internet for religious news of all types, wrote summaries of those stories for our site, edited freelance writers' contributions, and argued with my very conservative boss over things like whether "pro-choice" or "pro-abortion" was a more fair term.

After 14 months of existence, the site hadn't taken off and my boss, the publisher, decided to cut his losses, so I found myself looking for a new job.

I really can't explain why I started applying for leasing agent positions except that apartment complexes were everywhere and there were tons of open positions (that should have been my first clue). I think that somehow I also imagined it would be similar to working as a tour guide, which I did for two years in college and never got tired of.

So I got a job at an apartment complex and it was immediately clear that there were three smart, relatively normal people in that office: Stephanie, the assistant manager; Amy, the marketing manager; and me. The job was nice and mindless. I think it took me about two weeks to thoroughly master it and then I was on auto-pilot.

There were some things I loved. Every other week I had a four-day weekend. I did have to work some weekends, but we were open only six hours on Saturday and four on Sunday but you got paid for a full day. I learned how to drive a golf cart at that job (despite growing up in the "golf capital of the world"). Also, we were located close to some great thrift stores and that's where I spent most of my lunch hours.

Sometimes after work I would run around the lake we were on. And anytime I was bored, I could volunteer to go "shop" a neighboring complex -- pretend to be a prospective client and be taken on a tour and drink their Coke and ask questions leasing agents aren't supposed to answer ("Is there much crime around here?") and report back to our office on the competition.

I bonded with Amy and Stephanie quickly, but only a few months after my arrival Amy quit to take a new job. I got her office and a pay raise although the property manager wouldn't give me her title because she didn't want to upset the leasing agents who'd been there longer than me. A couple of months later, Stephanie had a baby and quit. That left just me and a bunch of crazies. The property manager called me into her office to offer me Stephanie's job, but luckily Matt and I had just decided to move back to Pinehurst to do what we're doing now, so instead I gave her my two-week notice.

The next spring, I got a series of hilarious email updates from Amy. They started out pretty innocuous:

"I talked to Steph today and had to tell you the latest gossip … [the property manager] got a boob job! HA!!!! I couldn’t stop laughing. Sadly, [the cleaning woman] told her they do not look good. I’m such a bad person for laughing, but I just cannot help it. I can’t picture her -- it’s got to look odd as she’s so petite. [The cleaning woman and the groundskeeper] are getting married this summer -- in the cabana, of course! [Crazy agents Nos. 1 and 2] are still there too apparently. I can’t imagine what it’s like there now."

And then moved on to this:

"I just had to write to tell you, in case you haven’t heard… [crazy agent No. 1] was fired from [the complex] because [the maintenance manager] was stealing electricity and [crazy agent No. 1] told him that [the property manager] was going to call the police.

"And then [the regional manager] came down to run the property because [the property manager] wasn’t showing up to work and no one could get in touch with her. Turns out she admitted herself into rehab for cocaine!!! [The regional manager] discovered all these unpaid bills and all sorts of other horrible evidence of how badly [the property manager] was running the company – finally because [the property manger] had gotten so strung out that she left everything at work and didn’t have time to clean up after her in preparation for [the regional manager]. She’d been hiding it well all this time … Anyway, [the regional manager] fired her!

"[Crazy agent No. 2] is still there – God knows why. I’m guessing with everyone else fired she’s probably hoping to get promoted.

"It almost feels like the sad finale to the soap opera of Life at [the Complex] … Guess there won’t be any more gossip for us in the future – I can’t imagine what else could happen!"

ALL THAT to say, I lost touch with Amy and Stephanie after the drama updates but found them on Facebook last week. Stephanie just had another baby and is living in New York now. Amy is expecting a baby boy and owns her own stationery store. Yay for Facebook reunions!

Weekend part 1

Friday night Kaleigh and Trevor, Melissa's kids, spent the night with us. Fun times! These are the only pictures I took, but I missed some good opportunities, such as when Kaleigh pranced up to me wearing the holely oversized T-shirt she slept in and some three-inch heels she found in my closet.

Kaleigh (looking at a crescent moon): Look at the moon! Do you think someone broke it?

Trevor: Are you a sister or an aunt?
Kaleigh: You look so pretty! Are you pregnant?

Kaleigh (checking out the upstairs bathroom): Whoa! No fat person could fit in here!

Trevor: I love you, Jennifer. You're the best! (Ceremoniously kisses both of my hands.)

I love these kids!

All the lonely people ...

This morning I previewed a house that one of my buyers might be interested in seeing. The seller stayed at the house while I was there and gave me a tour. When we got to the kitchen, she gestured to a life-sized mannequin who/that was sitting at the table and told me, "That's Charlie. He enjoys this view."

I did a double-take to make sure he wasn't a real person. He wasn't. He was a 6-foot-tall stuffed doll. I kind of laughed (what was I supposed to say?) and then she added, "He doesn't talk much, but he's good company." She was serious and it was so sad! My mind went straight to Wilson in "Castaway."

Later she told me today is her 86th birthday. I don't mind the idea of getting old, in fact I plan to do that eventually, but I would hate to be old and alone.

Random hilarity from the weekend

Matt: If my wife knew about you, she'd kill me.

I love this guy.

23 months and counting

I, along with Lib, was one of Real Simple magazine’s original readers. I have loved it ever since it was published only every other month. I like its generous use of quotes, its writing style, its regular features, its website. For a few years Granny renewed my subscription to it every Christmas, but in recent years she’s renewed Amanda’s, who gives me every issue after she’s read it, and when I’m done I pass it on to Mom. This system makes more sense.

So yesterday I was reading the November issue when Matt asked me if I still liked it as much as I used to. I told him I’m a little down on it lately. More and more of the articles feature recipes that are too exotic for my taste or clothes that cross the line to frumpy or product reviews that I don’t trust because of a little thing called complementary copy. “It’s gotten a little too geared to 30-somethings,” I said to Matt. He replied, “But you almost ARE a 30-something.”

Since it’s true, I didn’t have a good comeback. But it was rather jarring.

Seriously

Me: It's so cold in our house! My ears are freezing!
Matt: I turned the air down because I thought we were about to go to bed. I want to get under the covers and huddle with you! (Pause) Cuddle with you.

Stupid Monday Night Football!

Cooler clothes

Me: You don't have any dirty clothes still in your beach bag, do you? I'm missing two shirts.
Matt: No. (Pause) Did you check the cooler?
Me: For our clothes?
Matt: Yeah. I think I put a bag of dirty clothes in the cooler.
Me: Why?
Matt: It was empty. ... So that's where all my polos are!" (Laughter)