Songs for my soul

I am really behind the times, technologically speaking. I do not have an ipod, or a blackberry, or any other fancy thing. I barely have a cell phone, and it's only one of those Go Phones, where you add minutes as you need them. It's fancy.

I am not even sure if the CD player in my car works.

But still, I am joining in with Missy at It's Almost Naptime to tell you what kind of music I've been listening to in my car lately. Or, in my house, as the case may be.

On Wednesday when I decided I couldn't wait any longer to tackle the many, huge, overflowing baskets of laundry, I popped in a mixed CD, a compilation of various songs from iTunes, and hoped that it would give me some kind of laundry-folding inspiration.

Here's a sampling of the songs that speak to me, in one way or another:

Can't help falling in love - Elvis

One Fine Day - Natalie Merchant

How He Loves - David Crowder Band (for the record, Savannah is IN. LOVE. with David Crowder. I think the attraction is the crazy hair and glasses, not sure. But she is like a little mini-stalker of his - she talks about meeting him, and knows he lives in Texas. Watch out, David).

When God Ran - Phillips Craig and Dean

Making Memories of us - Keith Urban

Untitled Hymn (Come to Jesus) - Chris Rice

The Way you look Tonight - Frank Sinatra

The Way I am - Ingrid Michaelson

I could go on...and on....and on....but that's enough for now.

And if you pinned me down under extreme duress and forced me to name my favorite song of all time (which, really, how can you pick just one?)....well, I would have to say it is this - His Eye is on the Sparrow. I can barely listen to this song with crying. I know He truly is watching over me.

Missy, thanks so much for hosting!

Oh! One other thing - I have a new bloggy friend, Mirinda, and she owns a fabulous store called October Belle Designs. She is an uber-talented artist, and she does custom canvas paintings - and she's giving one away at her site. Because Savannah's room is very sad-looking, and basically still has the baby-ish nursery theme going, I so want one of these to help dress it up. Go visit October Belle Designs and leave her a comment!

This is how Picasso started out, too...

Ricardo turned forty-two at the beginning of August, and I've been a slacking blogger and didn't even mention it.

If you do the math, you will realize that he totally robbed the cradle. He's almost 9 1/2 years older than me. No complaints, though. In fact, that was one of the things on my list of what I wanted in a man. An older guy, and also one that spoke a different language. I scored on both counts.

We won't mention the fact that the older the guy, the more set in his ways....that's just how it goes.

Savannah heard the word "birthday" and immediately her mind went to cake. I can only handle making one fancy cake a year, so Ricardo got a plain Jane cake with a strawberry filling. Savannah tried offering him a choice of a Batman cake or a Dora cake, but mama said no.

I didn't even make him fresh buttercream frosting; instead, I remembered that I had a good bit of the BRIGHT pink and green frosting leftover from Savannah's birthday in the freezer. Mixed them together, added a little blue, and voila. I hoped that nobody noticed the slightly freezer burned taste, and at the rate they devoured the cake, I guess it wasn't an issue.

I found Savannah letting all of the cold air out of the fridge more than once that day as she sat and stared at the cake.

These pictures crack me up. Savannah has recently left off scribbling and realized that she could draw actual, um...people. (What, they don't look like people to you??) Right now you can look anywhere in our house and find it littered with papers sporting fine specimens like these:

Of course, she has to tell us which is Mommy and which is Daddy, since it's a little hard to tell. The only difference is the mile-long eyelashes that she puts on my drawing, which, by the way is NOT true to life. My favorite things are the freakishly long teeth, the arms coming out of the head, and the humongous nostrils.

So, I know I've been terribly absent from blogland - lately the blog design business has been taking ALL of my free time. Which is great from a business standpoint, but not so terrific when it comes to anything else. Still trying to find balance, because I really do miss blogging.

Thanks to Sara for hosting Project 365!

Out of control at the Nickel Arcade

The thing about having a very handy, very competent hubby is that pretty soon, other people start to notice the handiness and the competency.

One little case in point: Ricardo has a CDL license.

Apparently, guys with CDL licenses are hard to come by, at least around these parts, because he is in high demand at our church for any random events that pop up. Senior trips to the mountains, field trips to the zoo. Once or twice even a trip to L.A. for some of the young people, a trip where they tried to convince me to come along when Savannah was 9 months old.

Think of all the fun! they said. Disneyland! Dodgers game! Shopping!

Well, yes. And 16 hours on a school bus with a baby? Um...no thanks.

But last Friday, he was asked to drive the middle schoolers to a local Family Fun Center, one of those places where they have laser tag and paintball and miniature golf and go karts. Since it was a Friday night and I think they felt bad for pulling him away from his family, they were kind enough to invite all of us.I figured we would hang out, maybe play a round or two of miniature golf, but I didn't have high expectations outside of that.

We started out in the Nickel City arcade, a den of swirling lights and headache-inducing noise, the kind of place I usually avoid like the plague. But since the youth leader handed each of us a card with arcade credits on it, we couldn't very well waste it, right?

I apprehensively approached the Skeeball games. I am one of those girls that always gazes afar at the Skeeball players at the fair because, while it seems like a fun enough game, I've always been too intimidated (and cheap) to try it out in front of people who could laugh and scoff at my sorry skills.

But this time, I got over myself and thought I'd give it a try. A few throws into it, and I realized that I was actually pretty good! I sunk a 50! And then two 100s in a row! And then...well, then the ball bounced violently against the plastic shield and rolled back to me while my ego deflated and I glanced around to see who noticed.

Turns out nobody really cares how good or bad anyone else is at Skeeball.

After a couple of games, I suddenly realized that reward tickets were spewing out of the machine after each game ended. And then I realized that you could redeem said tickets for a selection of prizes, mostly junky little things, the kind you get in a Happy Meal and that multiply around your house and drive you crazy.

Savannah wandered around the prize area, pointing to various things - "I want that! Oooh, I like that, Daddy!" - and of course they were all things that cost over 10,000 tickets, things like a Princess lamp or a humongous stuffed whale.

I kept playing, and suddenly the weirdest feeling kicked in. That I-have-to-win, I-have-to-get-more! more! more! feeling. There I was, throwing skeeballs for all I was worth, sweat pouring off of me because it was insanely hot in there, and getting all excited when the machine spit out 9 or 10 tickets at a time. And all for some silly little prizes that probably weren't even worth the money that it took to buy the arcade card.

I told Ricardo, "Now I know how gamblers feel, and why it's so hard to stop - you think, just one more time, the next time around I'll hit the jackpot."

So we played until our cards ran out, and we had a grand total of about 200 tickets. We told Savannah to pick something, and after we convinced her that the Princess lamp was definitely not coming home with us, she settled for two little bouncy rubber balls.

This, my friends, is what an hour of throwing skeeballs will get ya - two of these babies:




Word to my hubby: if you know what's good for you, don't ever, ever take me to Vegas.

On an unrelated note - the lovely and very hysterical Missy at It's Almost Naptime is hosting a giveaway for a complete blog design done by yours truly. I know that at least a few of you have told me that you wish you could get a blog makeover, so here's your chance! (blogspot blogs only - so sorry to anyone else hosted by a different platform).

So go on over and leave her a comment - you never know, you just might win! And if you don't need a makeover yourself - you can enter anyway, and give it away to someone else that you know needs some beautifying.

Don't mess with Mama

I wrote this post a year ago about our hiding-out tendencies when the doorbell rings.

Not much has changed, except that Savannah now knows the ropes. The doorbell rings, she hunkers down on the couch. Just like Mama. She says, "Shhhhhhh......" in a loud stage whisper. Just like Mama.

And then when I have tiptoed over to the peephole and verified that whoever has dared to intrude is gone, she asks, "Can I talk now, Mama?"

I've trained her so well.

Last Monday, I was standing by the kitchen sink cutting up a mango for Savannah. I happened to glance up and noticed two young guys, maybe around 20, walking up my sidewalk and around towards my front door. My first thought was, Oooh, they sort of look like hooligans.....but other than that I didn't pay much attention to them.

I hissed a warning to Savannah, who was in the living room on the couch....."Savannah! Shhh! Doorbell!"

(And now that I'm typing this, our system sounds so much sillier than it does when we are actually implementing it. Not that I'm planning on changing it or anything, because it is has served us quite well thus far).

Two seconds later, the doorbell sounded. We shrunk into our respective positions to wait them out; I heard their voices, but not clear enough to make out what they were saying, just muffled murmurs. A few seconds later, it was quiet.

I stepped out from my little space and started to walk towards the living room. And that's when I saw them.

In my backyard.

One of them was scoping out the place, probably looking for a rock to hurl through the window. The other had his face pressed up to the sliding glass door, looking inside, trying to open it.

Oh, sisters. In about two seconds flat I went from zero to sixty. I roared - ROARED, I tell you - at them while I sprinted for the front door. "What the...!!!! GET OUT OF HERE!"

By the time I fumbled with all the locks - 3 locks and two doors - and burst outside, they had already leaped over my stone wall, which is chest-high on me, and sped around the corner.

I was so furious that I followed them. I pounded across our lovely gravel yard and down the hot sidewalk in my bare feet and nice stretchy pants and pajama top that looks enough like a regular shirt that sometimes I pretend that I don't need to get dressed.

Those boys were fast. But at that moment, I had such surge of adrenaline that I felt I could catch them and take them both down. That's how utterly incensed I was.

Then reality set in as I realized, (a). I didn't have my shoes on, (b). there was no way I would catch them, and (c). oh yeah, my baby girl is still inside by herself. And a bonus point, (d). what exactly did I think I would do to them anyway, even if I could catch them?

So I stopped at the edge where the sidewalk met the street, still screaming at them. They bolted far up the street, then turned right and careened away. Once they were gone, I suddenly became aware of just how hot the sidewalk was, and just how sharp the gravel was. Funny what adrenaline will do to you - I didn't even notice it on my mad dash out.

My neighbor came over right away to check on me and calm me down. I called the police, and they came in two minutes, and started combing the neighborhood. I called Ricardo, who had left that morning for a business trip for 4 days, and he said, "Go figure, the day I leave...."

Seriously, y'all. It still makes me mad to think about it, the gall of these people to march right on in like they own the place....to look in my windows, to contemplate taking my stuff.

It could have been so much worse. All of the what if's......what if I hadn't been home? What if they had thrown a rock and broken the window before I screamed? What if they had a gun?

But they didn't. None of that happened. We were protected by the great Protector - thank you Lord.

I doubt if they will be back, since a crazy lady obviously lives here.

A warning to all you hooligans out there....don't mess with Mama.

Project 365 - All about Red

I was browsing my friend Kellie's site yesterday when I saw this idea that I am borrowing for this week's Project 365. I picked one of my favorite colors, red, and then snapped pictures of random things around the house.

I like it because it shows such a diverse scattering of things, and it represents exactly where we are in life right now.

Some are things that I love - candles, red goblets, picture frames. A card from my hubby. Some are all about Savannah - books and barrettes.

And no picture collage is complete without the random can of tomato paste, which reminds me, I still need to put away the groceries from my shopping trip...from last night. Oops.






And to brighten your day...

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Sara, thank you for hosting!