2008 September | chatting at the sky

Dear Nuby Sippy Cup,

September 18, 2008

You have been an important part of our morning and evening routines for over four years. As I wrapped my arms of comfort and safety around my little ones before they went to bed, you were their constant companion. You are pink. You are blue. You are cheap at Wal-Mart. You never once complained about those sharp teeth that habitually gnawed on your soft, chewy spout. Thousands of ounces of juice and milk have nourished my children because of you.

Unfortunately, Matt Lauer tells me you are poisonous.

As I collected your growing family of 16 and threw you in my trash, I confess my heart was flooded with equal parts nostalgia and betrayal. My children have loved you, carried you to preschool, Sunday school, the gym and family picnics. You have been there for the birthdays, the holidays, even the sick days. And what do they get in return? A tripled risk of cardiovascular disease and a heightened proclivity to diabetes.

No mother should have to explain to her children that their beloved sippy cups are dangerous. It is mean. There has been a positive side to your downfall, however: a shiny, green, not-quite-cheap, BPA free Nalgene water bottle that will last forever. And lots of extra room on the top rack of my dishwasher that has otherwise been crowded out by you and your 15 family members.

I am disappointed, Nuby. And although you are no longer welcome here, you will be dearly missed.

Emily

Filed Under a mother 25 Comments

marching ants and moldy clothes

September 15, 2008

My computer has ants.

I opened my laptop and 15 ants scurried to safety under the jkl; and the asdf. My first instinct was to brush them off, but they were too fast for me. My second instinct was to type on the keys really hard and kill them in their hiding places.

I now realize that only means I’ll have 15 dead ants in my computer forever. I’m just waiting for the ants to eat all my files and chew my photos to shreds. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and they’ll be making a colorful anthill next to my dead laptop. In matte finish.

My car had ants once. That was not a good day.

In other news, I am beginning to discover the uselessness of my procrastination. For example, I abhor putting the wet clothes from the washer into the dryer. It is a foul chore. I always have to pull really hard to loosen the jeans from their wet, heavy grip and then I end up banging up my knuckles in the process.

I hate this chore so much, I often put it off too long and have to re-wash the clothes to get the moldy smell off. It puts me in a bad mood, those wet clothes. They make my laundry room smell and my knuckles bleed. But it has to be done. So I decided to time myself to see how long this horrible, awful, back-breaking task actually takes.

28 seconds.

That’s right, I spend hours (sometimes even days) putting off this most despised chore. All to avoid 28 seconds of work. Granted, the work is grueling. But it could be worse: I could not have a washer at all. Or a dryer. Or clothes.

What dreaded task are you putting off? I dare you to time yourself. What have you got to lose? Even if it ends up taking longer than you think, at least it’s done.

Filed Under a mess 73 Comments

the power of your stories

September 14, 2008

So far, seventy-three of you have shared the story of where you were on September 11, 2001. I have read every word from the comments section of that post. There was an incredible range of perspectives represented in those comments. A fifth grade student thought a plane would fly into her house and kill her family. A pregnant mama dreamed for weeks that 9/11 would be the day her baby girl would be born. There was the wife of a United Airlines worker, the wife of a police officer for the LAPD and the wife of a soldier. One reader was even at the trade center just an hour before the first plane hit.

Then there were stories like this one, simply stating the facts of her life at that time that could have been true for any of us: “I ruined my car. We were having a baby. Something horrible was happening in our Country. I got stung by a bee.” I encourage you to check out her entire post on Brambleberry Grace, as it is worth the read.

We were doing the regular, normal life stuff: nursing babies, putting on makeup, watching Barney, teaching a class, enjoying a family vacation…when one tragic event interrupted each life and brought us all to a collective halt.

Thank you for remembering and sharing your story with us. Each one is individually vital to the greater story of our country as a whole, even Anonymous who doesn’t care and thinks we should leave it alone. I know you have a story. And it is important, too.

Filed Under a girl 11 Comments

in whom I trust

September 10, 2008

I drove to work in much the same way I had every other morning: listening to Bob and Sheri on the radio. They were telling jokes and funny stories. It was 8:45. I got there early and sat in the parking lot of the college where I was working as a sign language interpreter. I had been married nearly 3 months.

They interrupted the laughter and informed the listening audience that it appeared as though a small plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. I had never been to New York and didn’t know what the World Trade Center was. I pictured a large, open air market on Wall Street similar to a farmer’s market with money and stock instead of fruits and vegetables.

I got out of my car and walked to the library. Still early, I checked my email and casually looked at nbc.com to see about that plane. There was a small photo of the tower with billowing smoke. The librarian and I chatted about the accident. She was only vaguely interested.

Later that night, when all the world had heard and the sky above our country was eerily quiet, I distinctly remember the fear. I was thankful we didn’t have children yet. This place was too terrible, too unpredictable. Life was too fragile. We were not safe.

I am intrigued to hear stories of where people were when they learned about the events of September 11, 2001. What were you doing when the world changed? Who were you with when our lives were so rudely interrupted? What were you thinking on the day in between Before and After?

The next day, I wrote out Psalm 91 in my journal. He is always my only hope, but that day I felt it. If you don’t believe in God or if you believe in God but aren’t sure about the Bible, then it won’t really mean much to you. But to me, it was a lifeline. It still is.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord,

“He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”
Psalm 91:1-2

Filed Under a girl 77 Comments

poopie party

September 9, 2008

There is a POOPIE party going on over at Nesting Place today. You haven’t heard of People Opposing Objectionable Pretend Plants In the Environment? (I know, it’s should be POOPPITE, technically. But you know, whatever). Everyone who considers herself a POOPIE is linking up and posting photos of our fake plants: both our favorites and our fiascos.

Let me first say that the POOPIEs are not opposed to fake plants as a whole. Merely the fakes that look waxy and unnaturally bright and, well…FAKE.
This is my first favorite. I picked out these stems at Hobby Lobby using the Nesters’ criteria: pick fakes that look as though they could be real, or at least could have been at one time.
Here’s another favorite. These are the only fake flowers I have in the house. They have fooled a few people from time to time. I think it’s because of the fake water in the bottom. I really like these. I know they are fake, but they are tasteful fake. And if you disagree, they were a gift from the Nester so take it up with her.
And here is my fiasco. I know it is wrong. It is all wrong. Previously I had a pot of real rosemary in that space. But real rosemary needs inconvenient things like light and water. So when it began to shed its needles like a Christmas tree, I set out to replace it with something. Hence this fiasco. It was a temporary fix. Inevitably temporary.

Do you have any fakes in your house? Are they fabulous or fiascos? Link up at the Nesting Place and let us see!

Filed Under a house-lover, a sister 30 Comments

dear pumpkin spice latte,

September 9, 2008

When I saw the girl writing your name on the chalkboard at the Target Starbucks, my heart began to dance and sing. I knew it wouldn’t be long. As much as I tried to wait until the temperature dropped to at least below 80 degrees, I cannot wait any longer.

Hello, my love. Hello my cinnamon friend, my autumn companion, my cup of frothy October. Your presence is a promise of fall, your steam whispers sweaters, football and bonfires. You are 16 ounces of liquid pie. And even though you are small, you bring so much joy and happiness to all who meet you.

I am sorry I tried to replace you with the International Delight impostor. True, he is more financially savvy than you. And he is willing to live in the midst of harsh conditions on the door of my fridge: the constant opening and closing; the blinking lights; the leftovers inches away. Although he is always available to me, standing tall between the ketchup and the Italian dressing…he is not you.

I love you, Pumpkin Spice Latte. I am so glad you are back.
Emily

Filed Under a freak 63 Comments

Hollywood, North Carolina

September 7, 2008

In my last post I mentioned that the reception for the beach wedding was held in downtown Wilmington in this great old brick building.
But the important part is that it was situated right across the street from the wall Pacey bought Joey during Season 3 of Dawson’s Creek. And with that, I know some of you just decided to remove me from your readers.

I didn’t start watching the show until about halfway through the series. I spent many Wednesday nights rushing to Sissy’s apartment by 8pm so I wouldn’t miss the beginning. There were no DVRs for Dawson. It was kind of nice, though, as Sissy and I spent the commercials catching up on our days really fast until the show came back on. I like watching shows with friends.
There’s me with Joey’s wall. See how big it is? Wilmington is the home of the largest sound stage east of Hollywood, Screen Gems Studios. How do I know this? Duh, because when our wedding duties were over, we took a tour of it. Aside from being the former home of Dawson’s Creek, the studio also films CW’s One Tree Hill, which is the actual set we toured. I’ve never seen one episode of that show, but it was still pretty rad to be on a hot set of a current show. I know all the lingo.

While Joey’s wall is a genuine brick wall in a real town, the brick they use to make porches on the set is really only painted wood. The granite counter top in the kitchen is painted wood. The sinks are painted wood. Kidding. The sinks are real, but they don’t really work. Unless, of course, they drag the hose inside and hook it up, letting the water drain into a bucket underneath, out of site of the cameras, of course.

Now the actors, they really are painted wood. Pretty talented set designers if you ask me. So tell me: have you ever been on a set tour? a live taping of a show? an extra in a movie? I want to hear all about it. Especially if the show was Friends. Just being honest.

Filed Under a friend 29 Comments