Isn't this what everyone does for Earth Day?

Today is Earth Day (isn't it? I think it is. I don't leave the house much...sometimes I loose some days). So in honor of saving energy, my children (particularly Graecy, our resident streaker) have decided to forgoe clothing in lieu of going "au naturel." Since we live in the midwest, and recently have been subject to some unseasonably cold weather, their naked rears have been confined to the Great Indoors, and they have been entertaining themselves with a number of fascinating games: Spin til You Drop, Color-By-Number Brother, and the all-time favorite, Run Around the Kitchen in Circles. When they get so dizzy they nearly puke up their organic Bunny-O's, they resort to watching their favorite classics: Dumbo, Alice in Wonderland, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and The Sound of Music (you should hear the three of them try to harmonize with Julie Andrews...that is worth paying money for).



Today, the TV was left on by a forgetful mommy, and The Wiggles came on. Suddenly there was silence in the room, as three dizzy little dears in their birthday suits stopped to stare and glaze over at the screen. They haven't watched that show in...ever, I don't think. Lilly might have watched it a few times when she was an only child, but since then, I don't think we've been entertained by the Aussie Posse for a while. In fact, when the show came on, I was reminded of my mommy-crush on Anthony Field, the "blue" Wiggle. His sexy salt and pepper hair, his funny accent, his oddly bright white chiclet teeth. Only today, I feel it is now necessary for me to rescind that former crush, as I do not think I can respectably say I "know" him anymore. There is something attractive about a man who can take care of children- someone who is good with kids, who jumps right in and isn't afraid to hold a little one, or change a diaper, or comfort them after a fall. But when you put this man in a butterfly costume, and make him say "Butterfly Antennae!" repeatedly, something about that attractiveness is lost. When you make him dress in gaudy western garb and make him dance and sing to "Turkey in the Straw" like an elderly person, not only is some attraction lost, but some manhood as well, you suppose.

I just don't find a person I can't respect attractive. Someone who has no respect for themselves isn't attractive either. All I have to say is: that must be a pretty big paycheck, Mr. Field. Does it buy you your manhood back? I doubt it.



I'll stick to crushing on Sealy Booth. He is the perfect combination of machismo and caring father, of braun and brains, and he looks quite hunky in just about everything (though I've yet to see him in a butterfly costume....)

Brainless!

Why is it that everytime I get in front of a screen and keyboard, my mind goes blank? I think of a thousand things I'd like to say, then sidle up to the blue glow...and nothin.' I need one of those mini recorders, the kind you see them use in awesome cop-dramas, or spy missions. Yeah! Picture it: I'm cruising the aisles at Wal-Mart, just checking out the clearance section for a pair of size 14 green jean shorts I just cannot pass up, and lo and behold! Inspiration strikes! I could record my thoughts as I think them, and remember to pick up eggs, milk, and butter! I can see it now...headline reads "Youngest woman ever to be institutionalized for dementia: Found wandering alone at 2 am, rambling on about buffet lines and Grande-sized MRI machines. She has yet to be claimed at the Lost and Found for Crazy People."

By the way, did you know that dogs can get breast cancer? I did not. This is tragic.

Other random thoughts I have had this week:
Why is it that my mother in law sees no purpose in ever cleaning out the catbox? Or buying a new nightgown? Perhaps these are all related to her inability to buy anything but the cheapest kind of toilet paper and her absolute abhorence of cleaning the bathroom in general.

Why do children shout when it is quiet in the house, and whisper their demands when they sit the very back seat of the van?

Why must every Sunday that I wear a dress be cold and rainy?

What is it about getting married that makes people stop being who they really are? Or is that the other way around?

That is all. I have forgotten the rest. I think I will invest in a good pen and new note pad, cause I'm just more the old-fashion (read:cheap!) kinda gal. But I have some interesting and awesome thoughts...if only I can remember them!

The Jokes On Me

It is April 1st, and for the first time in years, I did not try and prank my husband. I thought I would leave him alone this year. In the past, I have done such horrible *snicker* things as call him and tell him I lost my engagement ring. That sounds alot worse than it really was- when we were first engaged, we worked across the street from each other. He would run over and we would eat lunch together every day. So, when I knew he was already on his way over, I called him on his cell phone, and told him I took the ring off to put lotion on my hands, and I couldn't find the ring. My husband, being the wonderful man that he is, said very calmly "Don't worry about it! I'll help you look." So he walks into my office three seconds later, and hugs me, then looks down at my hand on the desk and sees the ring there. He sort of looked at me, then slapped his forehead, and grunted a little. That was our first April Fools together, and I have aimed to tease him every year. And to be fair, he had just pranked me pretty good that morning. I was a receptionist at our church. He called the church's line, and put on a fairly convincing "hick" accent, and claimed to be a snake-handler who wanted to come visit our church and handle snakes for us. Being a 19 year old college student without much experience in diffusing situations like this, he had me rattled a bit. So, you see, I was merely retaliating.

Then, the year Graecy was born, I pranked him by suggesting I was pregnant again. Graecy was born January 27, so to be pregnant again by April 1st would have been pretty soon after, and I just evidently had a mean streak in me. (: I laid a pair of baby booties (they were blue, I picked them up at Goodwill the day before) and put them on his pillow, along with a note that said "Hopefully this time it will be a boy!" So he came into our room, read the note, and sat there for a few minutes. I could see his mind working, the wheels turning. I waited another moment, then casually came in to fold laundry. He turned to me, and the look on his face!! Oh, man, I lost it! IHe realized what I had done, and started to tickle me mercilessly. This was also the year we were living with my inlaws, and Jon was relating the story to his dad later, and I have to tell you- I got an almost bigger kick out of my father-in-law's reaction- "Is that even possible?!" Oh, dear.



But this year, I just didn't think of anything. My mind is too consumed with other things.



The other day, as we drove to church, I saw a tree in the middle of a farming field. This tree was huge, and perfectly round. How had I never seen it before? I had a fleeting thought that this tree was just beautiful- solitary and tall and massive. But that thought was quickly forced out by the need to know why the farmer would be so impractical as to leave a tree in the middle of his field. Property division; it must have been, for there were other brush and small shrubs along the same row. But the nagging point was stuck in my head- sometimes I am overwhelmed by this immense Practicality, to the point that everything else is driven away. We had driven that same road for 2 years on the way to town, every week, three times a week or more, and I had never noticed that tree in the field. And when I did, it's beauty was lost to my need for it to make sense.



I haven't always been this way. Believe it or not, I was going to be an artist, who taught school to pay the bills. I was quirky, and wild. I wasn't Jon's type. I never wanted to get married; I wanted to live alone in New York or someplace similar. I never wanted kids. Meeting Jon changed my life, in nearly every way, and I am glad- I am immensely glad. But- how did I get to this place where the simple sight of a tree takes all joy from my morning until I know a reason why? I want to feel that sense of freedom again. The kind that lets me sleep in in the morning, without guilt or the sinking knowledge that the kids are watching junk on TV and destroying the remains of our very used furniture. I want to be able to see something like that tree and just accept it, without anything more.



But that's what happens when you wake up. That's what happens when everything matters, even the small things. I think I need a break. I need a night out! Hey, Jon, if you read this- I didn't even try and pull anything this year...don't I deserve a nice night on the town? I think I do! (Right now, I am sitting at the kitchen table, where my 3 year old just streaked past, stopped to takea sip of her grape juice from the table, then shook her naked behind at me and sang "Ooobla Boola Naaaaked Girrrl!" I need a break.)