2012

Near my subdivision they put up this big new billboard recently that says "2012: We Were Warned". I had no idea what it was for but now I know it's for this new movie coming out next month. Before I knew that, however, I kept thinking of all the things to which it could be referring. The one that kept coming to mind again and again is this one: my 20th high school reunion. That's right. In 2012 it will have been 20 years since I left the hallowed halls of good old LHS. I had casually entertained the idea of what it would be like to go to the 20th reunion - I haven't been to any others-but after considering that billboard I think it has a good message about that possibility. I was warned. A 20th high school reunion is not a good idea unless I am looking for material for yet another cliche in a movie scene or television show. Besides, with the advent of Facebook, I already know what many of these former classmates of mine are up to on a daily basis. And if they aren't photo-shopping all of their photos I even know what they look like doing all kinds of different things. ( I know what their pets look like too. So many photos of the pets.) The need for an in-person high school reunion is negated by social networking sites! Yeah!

In The Middle of the NIght

I know it is silly and superstitious, but I don't like midnight. Last night I couldn't fall asleep so I went downstairs to watch a few episodes of "House Hunters" on the good old DVR. I finally started to feel like sleep was a possibility and glanced at the clock to see that it was past 11:30. I quickly turned out the lights and went upstairs, wanting to be settled for the night before midnight. I don't like being awake by myself when the clock changes to 12:00. I'm perfectly fine if it's 1 AM. It's just midnight that sometimes really does send little chills down my spine.

Why?

My mind is telling me that in popular lore, midnight is considered the starting point for all evil creatures to begin their mischievous schemes. However, I can't think of a specific example from a book or anything to back this up right now. Can you? (My lack of examples probably shouldn't surprise me. My familiarity with the whole scary/haunted/psycho filled genre of books and movies is limited to childhood picture books about Casper and other friendly Halloween characters, reading the book "Carrie" in high school and seeing the movie on TNT, and watching "The Changeling" in my high school psychology class. Why did we spend two days of class watching "The Changeling"? I have no idea. All I know is it scared the dickens out of me and interrupted my peace of mind for months. Oh, I also watched the Hitchcock classic "Psycho" with my college roommates. That really is about it for me and intentionally scary things. Unless you count the Scooby Doo DVD that CT checked out of the library a few months ago.)

I also always associate midnight with the phrase "the witching hour", but again, I don't know if I made that association up or if it is legitimate. Whatever the case, I was relieved to be safely snuggled in my bed before the clock chimed (or, to be more accurate, digitally flashed) 12 last night.

A Post

I have an ambivalent relationship with my blog. I think of many things I could post, but never do. I'm always thinking, "Why bother? No one reads my blog anyway." And then I think "What if people really do read my blog? Would I really want them to know my true feelings about some serious stuff?". After several more rounds of this type of self-questioning I generally just give up and opt not to post at all. And then I feel bad, because I always expect other people to post. I am disappointed when my friends blogs stay unchanged for long periods of time. I want to know what is going on in their lives, what they are thinking and doing. I want to feel like I have friends. But I realize I don't keep up my side of the bargain very well. I'm not a faithful blogger.

So, in the spirit of reciprocal blogging, here you go:

Today is Sunday. My view is that Sundays and kids just aren't a great combination. I didn't enjoy Sundays very much as a child myself. I would always feel annoyed that my parents spent so much time reading the paper and was even more annoyed on those very rare occasions when they attempted to take a nap.

When I was a college student and a young single adult I came to really enjoy Sundays and find real renewal in them. Since having children - I've got to be honest - I find no sense of renewal in Sundays. It's hard to feel like you've had a day of rest, in any interpretation of the phrase, when you still have to do most of the things you do every other day. The kids are always a complete disaster after we get home from church. I can't understand why. Three hours in a church building emotionally drains them to the point of tears every Sunday evening?

I keep thinking perhaps our late church schedule can be blamed (we start at 1:30) but at the same time I'm not sure I'm looking forward to January when we start at 8:30 am. Being home at 11:30 and having the whole rest of the day to spend with the kids in Sunday appropriate activities sounds...challenging. I guess it's my own fault. I'm the one who made all of the "no playing outside, no watching TV unless it's a church DVD (of which we have a grand total of three), no changing out of Sunday clothes" rules. Honestly, I like all of those rules, for myself and my kids. It just means I have to be ready with lots of alternatives so we don't all go crazy every Sunday.

Well - now you see why I talk myself out of blogging. Here I've just written out something that is meaningful to me, but probably extremely boring to anyone else. But, maybe if I blog more not all of my posts will be boring...we'll see.

FYI

Sonogram today - it's a girl.

A Plea

I object to modern maternity wear. Let's be honest folks. There is only a very, very small percentage of the female population who looks close to normal as a pregnant person. There are those who carry babies very inconspicuously and wear their normal clothes the whole pregnancy, perhaps fastening their jeans with a ponytail elastic through the button hole rather than actually buttoning them as their only concession to gaining any bulk. For these people, maternity wear on the tight side is passable. For the rest of the common hoard, my plea is, please don't wear tight maternity clothes. I especially am appalled to see all of the women at church in skin tight lycra shirts with a huge belly. I have no desire to see the outline of your belly button. As church members, we're not supposed to wear skin tight clothes normally, so why oh why would this rule be suspended in case of pregnancy? Come on people, not even Heidi Klum can pull off the tight maternity look. It looks ridiculous.

You Want a Cheese Stick? You'll Need a Password

I never thought I'd be one of those moms. The ones that padlock the refrigerator and have a monitored alarm system on the pantry. The problem is, or at least one of the problems is, that I compare the behavior of my children to that of myself and my siblings. And it doesn't really match up. Sure, we raided my mom's stash of candy sometimes. However, we never tore open a bag of chocolate chips with our teeth, causing them all to fly hither and yon throughout the kitchen, and then stuffed handfuls of them into our mouths as if those chocolate chips were the first nourishment we'd seen in days.

Obviously, there is a big difference here in my own experiences as a child and those of my children. I was accompanied through my childhood by a sister four years older than me and a brother eight years older than me. There isn't much a two year old thinks to do that a six year old doesn't already know is a bad idea. Also, my mom was only dealing with one toddler at a time.

My kids are each a part of the Three Toddler Musketeers - All For One and All For Messes. They seem to encourage one another to new heights of toddler creativity - primarily concerning food. This is so strange to me, because it's not as if my kids don't eat. They get three meals a day. They get AT LEAST two snacks a day. I'm not opposed to treats - they all get their share of candy, popsicles, and high-calorie baked goods. I just don't understand this all-consuming quest of theirs for MORE MORE MORE. Even as I speak they are plotting a plan of action to find the chocolate chips that started this whole reflection, which were duly taken out of their possession and removed to an undisclosed location. I just heard Lily say to CT "Let's be secret agents and find those chocolate chips". Maybe that's why they do it - knowing I will take it away and then they can turn it into an elaborate sleuthing adventure to find out what I did with their spoils. In which case I guess I need to teach them how to play "Clue" at a young age.

Late Night

I went to a baby shower last night. That happens quite frequently in our ward. It started at 7, I was there on time. I got home at 2 o'clock in the morning. Quite the baby shower, eh? There were six of us there that late. All of us are stay-at-home moms. Do you think maybe we're starved for a little social interaction that doesn't involve three year olds? Next time the invitation should just say "Baby Shower and Sleep Over"