Here’s what I would like to do during Isaac’s naps: blog. Here’s what I should be doing: putting the last vestiges of crap away. Le sigh. Traditionally, I let myself blog as a reward for some job well done: chores, fun outing, beautiful meal, nice table arrangement. Lately my #1 goal is to finish the house! But each room has just a couple things missing: the Angkor Wat painting for Isaac’s room is getting stretched. I need a painting framed for the dining room. The living room still has that junk on top of the bar and I need to hang a scroll when I have a free moment when Isaac is neither sleeping nor being held. And I have all the stuff ready for the walls in the bedroom, but the floor still looks like this:
Surprise! Instead of dealing with that, I would rather take Isaac and the kitties outside to swing on the porch and smell the hyacinths.
Babies are so great. Well mine is anyway. In fact, Isaac and I measured Hobby Lobby in compliments per square foot the other day.
“Awwwwwwww!” said all the college girls and grannies as they’d stop and back up to come coo at Isaac. One lady redirected her path down the Easter aisle toward us.
“Is he yours?” she drawled in a very charming Southern accent.
I smiled big: “Of course!” (Note: I do not steal babies!)
“How old is he?”
She looked me up and down. “Well don’t you look great, both of you! And what’s your name, little darlin’?”
I’d just found my favorite pair of jeans from when we lived in Pensacola before. The waistline is a little higher than the fat jeans I’ve been wearing so it doesn’t sit right at my C-section incision. The hem is longer, too, so I was wearing high-heeled boots and looked three inches taller. Finally, some jeans that don’t make me cranky! And get me compliments! I almost hugged that lady.
Instead I said, “His name is Isaac!”
She leaned down to drawl directly to him: “A biblical name! Well, don’t your parents love you to give you a biblical name!”
“We sure do; we thought it was important to remember we make plans, but God laughs!”
She looked a little unsure about this revelation, but said to Isaac, “Well your parents sure must love you. Bye!”
I kind of wanted to run after her and ask her to come over sometime. Noted: when self esteem gets low, take Isaac to Hobby Lobby mid-afternoon.
There was a point…right, so for Valentines Day, Chris wrote me a fit rep, or fitness report. The guys get these report cards a couple times a year patting them on the back and basically telling them they’re wonderful. My dad used to sit us down on report card day and read each subject, tracing it across to the grade and saying, “Math….92, ooo, very good, an A. Spelling….86, hmm, a B. Science….97, very nice, good job!” So Chris and I do that with his fit rep over dinner. A few months ago I bemoaned, “Maaaaan, no one writes me a report card anymore: Being fun: A+! Housework: needs improvement!” Chris laughed.
And for Valentines Day that’s exactly what he did! I got graded for attractiveness, fun, home decor, social director, and my job at Ichiban Collectibles. It was awesome and maybe my favorite present ever. I got Chris a currency album to organize all the money money money we’ve brought back from port calls and trips. He loved it. And that is easier to work on than cleaning up the bedroom, so voila! There you are.