So, tonight I'm thinking about the internet's effect on my brain and how it may very possibly be shrinking my IQ, slowly but rather surely. For instance, after a long, arduous day of housewifery and motherhood, after which I am partially braindead, part of me wants to read that book I've been meaning to finish (i.e. start) and the other part of me wants to surf the net and read about where Scarlett Johanssen had breakfast yesterday. Additionally, I find myself trudging through the randomness of Hulu.com which offers a plethora of General Hospital and One Life to Live episodes as well as gems I've never heard of like Naruto Shippuden.
It's a strange tug of war that goes on in my brain in the evenings and to be honest, I often give in and waste valuable brain cells on pop culture gossip or on a television show I've already seen and don't really care that much about. And in the process, I fear, the internet wirelessly streaming into my computer (and subsequently, my brain) is slowly and painlessly making me less and less intelligent. Hm.
It's not that I want this to happen, mind you. I'd like to keep all those little IQ points that power my ability to form sentences and pat my head while at the same time rubbing my stomach (this valuable skill may, in fact, have nothing to do with my intelligence quotient). I dream of writing a book about an ordinary couple who drink large amounts of Earl Grey and have secret rendezvous at local Whole Foods Markets. And sometimes I imagine that I'll just stay up late after Matt and The Babe have "released me" from my aforementioned roles so that I can pen my great American novel. However, this never happens. Instead, I stay up a little late and end up on People.com. Argh.
So, to sum up, this post is simply me confessing to intellectual laziness and and an odd addiction to reading about the dysfunctional dating lives of people I don't know. It's also me documenting the apparent slippery slope I'm on that will eventually find me struggling to articulate anything other than what the Kardashians are up to. Ok, that's a little extreme because I don't really know that much about Kim, Khloe or Kourtney. But, seriously, I need to break this cycle and I can't hold out until Sam is 18 and off at college, leaving me with free time to pursue all those creative, educational and spiritual ventures I've been wanting to pursue.
Is it weird to dream about being in my fifties, my kids grown and off at college, and me at home reading all the books I meant to read and writing all the stories I meant to write? Maybe it's not weird, but it's definitely a little unnecessary and perhaps a little unrealistic because obviously, in my fifties I'll be running marathons and organizing large charity events and won't have time for silly things like reading and writing.
Well, friends, I've used up all the brain cells I have for this evening and need to shut this thing down. But, for the record, let it be known that motherhood uses copious amounts of the brain's resources and so, maybe it's ok to "veg out" a little in the evenings. There'll be time for intellectual pursuits one day, right? And, until then, I'm hoping you'll still be my friends even if the only things I can talk about are how many boxes of raisins Sam ate yesterday and what restaurant Jennifer Aniston met her mystery man at last night. Right? Please say yes.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Moving Can Kill You
I was thinking the other day about a list I'd read one time of the most stress-inducing events in life and I was pretty darn sure moving was atleast number 3 or 4 on that list. However, I've just been doing a little research and found out that, in fact, Marriage is number 3 and Jail Time is number 4. Moving didn't make the list. However, I've decided that it makes MY list of most stressful life events after these past 2 weeks in what I like to call "moving hell." In fact, I'd put it right up there with giving birth and losing something really important (like a kidney or your car in the parking lot at Walmart after dark).
Atleast, that's how I felt the other day after Matt had gone to work and I was left in our little cottage on the mountain with an almost one year old and one. million. unopened. boxes, which for a Type A, overachieving, OCD stressball, is the ultimate recipe for a potential meltdown. But, I really thought things would be ok until after a quick trip to the bathroom (during which Sam was "safe" in his walker, which keeps him from getting into anything), I found Sam with a shiny dime in his little mouth, fished from a box that he was able to reach with his go-go-gadget baby arms. Lightning-fast, I snatched it out of his mouth just as it was about to be swallowed. And then, I sat down and cried.
That was the breaking point. So, Sam and I quickly got dressed and left the house, which I dubbed a "baby minefield" in a Kardashian-worthy dramatic phone conversation with my mom soon after the dime incident. Later, Sam and I made visits to Target and Chic fil a, which made life a teensy bit more manageable.
Anyway, we've come a long way since that day, but I will admit to having considered running away on more than one occasion. It's not been pretty. I think I may have even aged 9-10 months. In the process, I've also discovered that I'm wound a little too tight. Oh, who am I kidding. I already knew that along with anyone else that has known me longer than 3 minutes. "Wound too tight" might actually be putting it mildly. I make energy drinks nervous.
Moving Progress Report:
1. Sam is still alive, despite having developed a taste for paper products and indulging in a little toilet paper/paper towels/cardboard box when I'm not looking. I think this might be his way of coping with stress.
2. Matt has hooked up our internet and we have now gone wireless. I feel so 21st century despite our lack of cable.
3. Our little 953 square feet looks and feels pretty much like home these days. (So, come visit. We'll pull out a rug for you.)
4. After a small oven fire involving a baked potato, I have baked 2 batches of cookies and eaten most of them myself. I've needed the extra sugar-induced energy for unpacking boxes, obviously.
I'll be honest, moving has taken it out of me and so I've made the decision that we're never going to move again, which means I can mark that off my list of stressful life events. Now, I can concentrate on avoiding stresser number 4: Jail Time.
This just in:
While doing a little more research, I've found a list that acknowledges what I already knew. Moving IS one of the most stressful events in life. If you're interested, and you're probably not, here's the article that proves I'm less crazy than my husband thinks I am:
http://www.ourtownamerica.com/press_room/pdf/Background-Movpsy.pdf
Atleast, that's how I felt the other day after Matt had gone to work and I was left in our little cottage on the mountain with an almost one year old and one. million. unopened. boxes, which for a Type A, overachieving, OCD stressball, is the ultimate recipe for a potential meltdown. But, I really thought things would be ok until after a quick trip to the bathroom (during which Sam was "safe" in his walker, which keeps him from getting into anything), I found Sam with a shiny dime in his little mouth, fished from a box that he was able to reach with his go-go-gadget baby arms. Lightning-fast, I snatched it out of his mouth just as it was about to be swallowed. And then, I sat down and cried.
That was the breaking point. So, Sam and I quickly got dressed and left the house, which I dubbed a "baby minefield" in a Kardashian-worthy dramatic phone conversation with my mom soon after the dime incident. Later, Sam and I made visits to Target and Chic fil a, which made life a teensy bit more manageable.
Anyway, we've come a long way since that day, but I will admit to having considered running away on more than one occasion. It's not been pretty. I think I may have even aged 9-10 months. In the process, I've also discovered that I'm wound a little too tight. Oh, who am I kidding. I already knew that along with anyone else that has known me longer than 3 minutes. "Wound too tight" might actually be putting it mildly. I make energy drinks nervous.
Moving Progress Report:
1. Sam is still alive, despite having developed a taste for paper products and indulging in a little toilet paper/paper towels/cardboard box when I'm not looking. I think this might be his way of coping with stress.
2. Matt has hooked up our internet and we have now gone wireless. I feel so 21st century despite our lack of cable.
3. Our little 953 square feet looks and feels pretty much like home these days. (So, come visit. We'll pull out a rug for you.)
4. After a small oven fire involving a baked potato, I have baked 2 batches of cookies and eaten most of them myself. I've needed the extra sugar-induced energy for unpacking boxes, obviously.
I'll be honest, moving has taken it out of me and so I've made the decision that we're never going to move again, which means I can mark that off my list of stressful life events. Now, I can concentrate on avoiding stresser number 4: Jail Time.
This just in:
While doing a little more research, I've found a list that acknowledges what I already knew. Moving IS one of the most stressful events in life. If you're interested, and you're probably not, here's the article that proves I'm less crazy than my husband thinks I am:
http://www.ourtownamerica.com/press_room/pdf/Background-Movpsy.pdf
Sunday, November 14, 2010
A is for Awkward
So, we live in Chattanooga now. Maybe you hadn't heard, but we loaded up the truck and moved to Lookout Mountain about six weeks ago. Matt's got a new job, we've got a new little (953 square feet, to be exact) rental house, a new church, a few new friends, etc. What I'm also noticing is that, in the midst of all this newness, I feel new. Not the shiny, my-shirt-still-smells-like-the-Gap kind of new. No, I'm feeling more like the new kid in middle school who doesn't know anybody and hasn't figured out where to sit in the lunchroom. I'm 32 years old. Why do I feel like the awkward new kid who's still wearing crimped hair when everyone else has gone straight? I thought I was over that whole thing, but it turns out I'm not.
However, in the midst of all this newness that feels so uncomfortable at times, something happened yesterday that amounted to having the cool kid at school high five me in the lunchroom. It's not that big of a deal really, but I keep thinking about it and wondering why it made me feel less like an awkward middle-schooler and more like a new outfit from the Gap.
The pastor of a church we've visited a few times saw me at a restaurant having lunch with my parents and came over to say hello. I didn't recognize him at first or even remember his name. I chalk this up to being more than a little distracted by my eleven month old progeny during church services these days. The thing about this encounter that really struck me was that the pastor, whom I had met once, actually remembered my name. I've dated guys who've had trouble doing that, so this felt significant.
Something about that little encounter at Guthries over sweet potato fries and chicken fingers was a turning point. I was at that pastor's church again this morning feeling a teensy bit more like I belonged there. And while I sat there, sans Matt who was hanging out in the back with Sam and the other pew-jumping toddlers, I thought about the weight of having my name remembered. I don't think I'd realized how much I've missed being around folks who know me and like me and want to meet me for lunch at Chic-fil-a.
I miss Knoxville and all the folks there who know my name really well, but I'm glad we're here on the mountain now and I'm glad there's a chance to be new again. It's interesting doing this with a baby and having a new identity as a mom to go along with being new in general. But, there's a boatload of possibility and I'm wondering who will invite us into their lives here and who will become a part of our family's story.
We're off to visit a small group tonight in about half an hour and I'm anticipating some major small talk and a few awkward pauses, but I'm also betting there might be a potential friend or two there which makes all that awkwardness worth it. I've decided to just embrace being the new kid at school (or on the block, if you'd rather) and just be honest about needing some friends. Hm. Maybe I could also bribe them with the cookies I just made.
I think I might crimp my hair before I go.
However, in the midst of all this newness that feels so uncomfortable at times, something happened yesterday that amounted to having the cool kid at school high five me in the lunchroom. It's not that big of a deal really, but I keep thinking about it and wondering why it made me feel less like an awkward middle-schooler and more like a new outfit from the Gap.
The pastor of a church we've visited a few times saw me at a restaurant having lunch with my parents and came over to say hello. I didn't recognize him at first or even remember his name. I chalk this up to being more than a little distracted by my eleven month old progeny during church services these days. The thing about this encounter that really struck me was that the pastor, whom I had met once, actually remembered my name. I've dated guys who've had trouble doing that, so this felt significant.
Something about that little encounter at Guthries over sweet potato fries and chicken fingers was a turning point. I was at that pastor's church again this morning feeling a teensy bit more like I belonged there. And while I sat there, sans Matt who was hanging out in the back with Sam and the other pew-jumping toddlers, I thought about the weight of having my name remembered. I don't think I'd realized how much I've missed being around folks who know me and like me and want to meet me for lunch at Chic-fil-a.
I miss Knoxville and all the folks there who know my name really well, but I'm glad we're here on the mountain now and I'm glad there's a chance to be new again. It's interesting doing this with a baby and having a new identity as a mom to go along with being new in general. But, there's a boatload of possibility and I'm wondering who will invite us into their lives here and who will become a part of our family's story.
We're off to visit a small group tonight in about half an hour and I'm anticipating some major small talk and a few awkward pauses, but I'm also betting there might be a potential friend or two there which makes all that awkwardness worth it. I've decided to just embrace being the new kid at school (or on the block, if you'd rather) and just be honest about needing some friends. Hm. Maybe I could also bribe them with the cookies I just made.
I think I might crimp my hair before I go.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Top Ten List: You Know You're A Mom When...
10. You find yourself cutting your own food up in tiny pieces before you eat it.
9. You shaved half of one leg about 2 weeks ago and still haven't gotten to the other one and a half yet. (You're hoping to get to that before your next date night.)
8. Date night includes a movie (in the dvd player), a frozen pizza and someone crying themselves to sleep in the room down the hall.
7. You find half-chewed cheerios in your pockets at the end of the day and you eat them instead of getting up to throw them away.
6. You look forward to naptimes with the same anticipation of vacation or Christmas or your wedding day (small bit of exaggeration here, but not much).
5. Talking to your baby has now morphed into you talking to yourself AND calling yourself "mama" while talking to yourself even when your baby isn't in the room.
4. You have developed a mild version of ADD that...wait, did I use toothpaste or hair gel this morning to brush my teeth?
3. You have small bite marks and bruises where someone has tried out their new teeth on you. (And, you start to wonder if reading the "Twilight" series while pregnant wasn't such a good idea).
2. Songs from "Barney" and other such television for small people play in your mind over and over and over and over all day long. (help me)
And the number one way you know you're a mom is...(drumroll, please)
1. You take a bathroom break and within seconds someone is outside the bathroom door screaming like you've just dropped them off at Saddam Hussein's house for a playdate.
9. You shaved half of one leg about 2 weeks ago and still haven't gotten to the other one and a half yet. (You're hoping to get to that before your next date night.)
8. Date night includes a movie (in the dvd player), a frozen pizza and someone crying themselves to sleep in the room down the hall.
7. You find half-chewed cheerios in your pockets at the end of the day and you eat them instead of getting up to throw them away.
6. You look forward to naptimes with the same anticipation of vacation or Christmas or your wedding day (small bit of exaggeration here, but not much).
5. Talking to your baby has now morphed into you talking to yourself AND calling yourself "mama" while talking to yourself even when your baby isn't in the room.
4. You have developed a mild version of ADD that...wait, did I use toothpaste or hair gel this morning to brush my teeth?
3. You have small bite marks and bruises where someone has tried out their new teeth on you. (And, you start to wonder if reading the "Twilight" series while pregnant wasn't such a good idea).
2. Songs from "Barney" and other such television for small people play in your mind over and over and over and over all day long. (help me)
And the number one way you know you're a mom is...(drumroll, please)
1. You take a bathroom break and within seconds someone is outside the bathroom door screaming like you've just dropped them off at Saddam Hussein's house for a playdate.
Monday, October 25, 2010
A Case of "Mom-Brain"
I think I may have the blogger's version of writers' block, which, come to think of it, might be the same thing as regular writer's block. Lately, I find myself thinking about how I want to be writing and yet, there's this big fat blank that comes to mind whenever I consider putting a few sentences together.
However, as you may have noted by now, despite a bit of writer's block, I am nonetheless determined to string a few words together and see what comes of it. If nothing else, atleast I'm attempting to write and that's worth a little bit, isn't it? And if not, perhaps I'll burn a few calories doing some really fast typing.
There's not much to report these days from the mountain that we're currently living on. At the moment, I'm baking a butternut squash, doing laundry and wondering how much longer I have before The Babe wakes up from his nap. It's a small world these days and thankfully, we've had a few visitors lately to keep me from fully succumbing to "stay at-home-mom-induced-cabin-fever." This disorder is coupled with what my friend Abigail calls "mom-brain." Or I think that's what she calls it. My "mom-brain" tends to forget anything and everything said to me within a 3 hour or less window. It also has the tendency to manifest itself in slightly alarming bouts of A.D.D., which could occasionally be mistaken for Tourrette's Syndrome.
What does this look like exactly? Well, if we were having a conversation, I might be able to finish one or maybe two sentences before checking to see what small object (ex. fuzz, old peanut, dead ladybug, etc.) Sam is pinching from the floor in order to put into his mouth. Half a sentence later, I will, mid-sentence mind you, note that your shoelace is untied. Another two sentences and I have forgotten what I initially started to tell you in the first place, but no matter, I've already moved on to another topic sparked by Sam's celebratory outburst at having just removed his shoe.
In light of my tendency toward A.D.D. these days, I will now change topics before you've fully been able to process the last paragraph you've just read.
For those of you wondering what the heck is going on since we moved to Chattanooga, I'll sum up for you:
-We've visited 3 churches in 3 weeks. Right now, the front-runner is the one with the most-efficient nursery. (priorities = Sam)
-We discovered the Greenlife (a.k.a. Whole Foods) here in Chattanooga. I had no idea I was moving to a city with a Whole Foods and I may have had a little trouble sleeping a night or two just knowing it was a mere 20-25 minutes away.
-I've only been to Target once in 3 weeks. Tragedy.
-Sam has 2.5 new teeth since we arrived.
-Sam has bitten me with said new teeth more times than I can count. Not sure how to break this unfortunate habit yet.
-The husband and I have both had new tires put on our car.
-I've done approximately 13 loads of laundry.
-We had a thunderstorm last night that sounded like a hurricane. Sam slept through the whole thing.
Hm. I'm boring myself just typing this list. Staying at home with a 10 month old is both a joy and a brain-sucker. I love Sam more than I have words for and I'm so grateful that I'm at home with him witnessing every baby step he makes towards being a little person. But, somedays it does feel like the U.S. could have been taken over by the Chinese and I might not know about it for 3 days.
Obviously, as noted earlier, we did just move to a new city where we A. aren't yet plugged in to a church/community and B. don't know many people and C. get lost (or uncertain of our whereabouts) on occasion. I realize that with transition comes some uncomfortable-ness and occasionally some loneliness and I know all of that can't be blamed on being a stay-at-home mom. Sorry, Sam.
But, now I'm left with the question of where this writers' block is coming from. Is it a product of being overwhelmed by transition and change? Is it the aforementioned reality of "mom-brain"? Or, could it be that perhaps I need another spoonful of Nutella to spark a few new ideas for blog-posting?
Well, while you ponder that, a load of laundry is waiting to be transferred from the washer to the dryer. Here's hoping I have more to say next time I post. If not, I'm planning on sharing a few pictures of Sam doing something adorable instead.
However, as you may have noted by now, despite a bit of writer's block, I am nonetheless determined to string a few words together and see what comes of it. If nothing else, atleast I'm attempting to write and that's worth a little bit, isn't it? And if not, perhaps I'll burn a few calories doing some really fast typing.
There's not much to report these days from the mountain that we're currently living on. At the moment, I'm baking a butternut squash, doing laundry and wondering how much longer I have before The Babe wakes up from his nap. It's a small world these days and thankfully, we've had a few visitors lately to keep me from fully succumbing to "stay at-home-mom-induced-cabin-fever." This disorder is coupled with what my friend Abigail calls "mom-brain." Or I think that's what she calls it. My "mom-brain" tends to forget anything and everything said to me within a 3 hour or less window. It also has the tendency to manifest itself in slightly alarming bouts of A.D.D., which could occasionally be mistaken for Tourrette's Syndrome.
What does this look like exactly? Well, if we were having a conversation, I might be able to finish one or maybe two sentences before checking to see what small object (ex. fuzz, old peanut, dead ladybug, etc.) Sam is pinching from the floor in order to put into his mouth. Half a sentence later, I will, mid-sentence mind you, note that your shoelace is untied. Another two sentences and I have forgotten what I initially started to tell you in the first place, but no matter, I've already moved on to another topic sparked by Sam's celebratory outburst at having just removed his shoe.
In light of my tendency toward A.D.D. these days, I will now change topics before you've fully been able to process the last paragraph you've just read.
For those of you wondering what the heck is going on since we moved to Chattanooga, I'll sum up for you:
-We've visited 3 churches in 3 weeks. Right now, the front-runner is the one with the most-efficient nursery. (priorities = Sam)
-We discovered the Greenlife (a.k.a. Whole Foods) here in Chattanooga. I had no idea I was moving to a city with a Whole Foods and I may have had a little trouble sleeping a night or two just knowing it was a mere 20-25 minutes away.
-I've only been to Target once in 3 weeks. Tragedy.
-Sam has 2.5 new teeth since we arrived.
-Sam has bitten me with said new teeth more times than I can count. Not sure how to break this unfortunate habit yet.
-The husband and I have both had new tires put on our car.
-I've done approximately 13 loads of laundry.
-We had a thunderstorm last night that sounded like a hurricane. Sam slept through the whole thing.
Hm. I'm boring myself just typing this list. Staying at home with a 10 month old is both a joy and a brain-sucker. I love Sam more than I have words for and I'm so grateful that I'm at home with him witnessing every baby step he makes towards being a little person. But, somedays it does feel like the U.S. could have been taken over by the Chinese and I might not know about it for 3 days.
Obviously, as noted earlier, we did just move to a new city where we A. aren't yet plugged in to a church/community and B. don't know many people and C. get lost (or uncertain of our whereabouts) on occasion. I realize that with transition comes some uncomfortable-ness and occasionally some loneliness and I know all of that can't be blamed on being a stay-at-home mom. Sorry, Sam.
But, now I'm left with the question of where this writers' block is coming from. Is it a product of being overwhelmed by transition and change? Is it the aforementioned reality of "mom-brain"? Or, could it be that perhaps I need another spoonful of Nutella to spark a few new ideas for blog-posting?
Well, while you ponder that, a load of laundry is waiting to be transferred from the washer to the dryer. Here's hoping I have more to say next time I post. If not, I'm planning on sharing a few pictures of Sam doing something adorable instead.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Moose on the Loose
My friend Lesley in Knoxville, CEO of Peppered Paper, created a lovely birth announcement canvas for Sam a few months back. She just posted some pictures of it on her blog and so I thought I'd share. The "Moose on the Loose" song she references is one of Matt's old camp songs that we sing to Sam. It's a great one for drowning out the yelling (or calming Sam down) when the road trip gets too long.
If you've got a baby coming or you know someone who does, check out Lesley's website to see her imaginative artwork!
http://pepperedpaper.blogspot.com/2010/10/moose-on-loose.html.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Cabin Fever, Mall Kiosks and A Good Book
It's late and I should be in bed, but I'm trying to steal a few more minutes of time to myself, which is a rare commodity these days. I'm ok with that, but at the same time, an hour sans diaper changing or washing dishes or scanning the floor for small, mysterious things that could be mistaken for food by small people close to the ground is, as Mastercard might put it, "priceless."
I was almost swallowed whole by cabin fever today and since I couldn't get it together in time for Bible Study, I instead opted for a visit to The Mall. I know what you're thinking and I agree. Obviously, the mall is not an adequate substitute for the study of the Bible, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
The mall visit was short and basically included three things: Chic fil a, a regretful and impetuous purchase at a random mall kiosk, and a visit to Barnes and Noble. My 6-count nugget Kid's Meal at Chic fil a was nice, despite being in the middle of a busy food court whilst feeding The Babe with one hand and myself with the other. But, what really made this venture to the mall rewarding was the 20 minutes I spent in Barnes and Noble.
When I have a moment to think about what I'd like to be doing on any given afternoon, it usually involves the dream of being by myself at Barnes and Noble, some sort of coffee beverage in my hand, leisurely wandering through the Fiction and Literature section of said store for as long as my little heart desires. On my very first Mothers' Day (which was this year), I requested as my gift from Matt (and Sam) an hour at B & N by myself and a little spending money for a book or two. Despite the fact that the hour ended up only being 45 minutes for one reason or another, it was a glorious forty and five minutes. Two books, a magazine and a cafe latte later, I was a new woman.
If you aren't a book lover or a word lover of some sort, you probably won't understand how incredibly comforting and exhilarating the smell of a new, freshly published book can be. I felt my heart unfold a little as I pushed Sam's stroller through the aisles of lovely covers and intriguing titles this afternoon. I love seeing familiar books that I've read more than once dolled up in new covers (today's favorite was "Out of Africa's" fancy new book jacket). I also love discovering new titles that I've yet to read and dream of reading one after another after Sam graduates from high school, eighteen years from now. Sigh.
Out of all those thousands of books on the shelves today, I found myself purchasing one I've read twice already. C.S. Lewis says something about what it means to read a book more than once and I wish I could remember what it was he said. I think it's something relatively close to "a book worth reading is worth reading more than once." It's possible I just made up that quote, but it reminds me of something Lewis said once...or maybe said. Sort of.
Anyhoo, I wandered over to the biography section of B & N hoping to find a copy of Condaleeza Rice's new book, as I'd just seen her interviewed about it yesterday and found my interest piqued. But, instead, I saw the familiar green cover of Martha Beck's Expecting Adam and knew immediately that I needed to read it for a third time. I won't explain why this book is one of my favorites here, but I will say that it is totally worth your time.
I felt that lovely satisfaction of purchasing something worthwhile as I swiped my card and walked out with my B & N bag hung over the handle of Sam's stroller. I'm hopeful that tomorrow's weather is overcast (i.e. perfect reading weather) and that Sam takes a long afternoon nap (i.e. wishful thinking).
Ah, Barnes and Noble, you were the welcome antidote to a bout of cabin fever and a refuge from the intellectual black hole that stay-at-home motherhood can sometimes be.
Now, if only I could undo that unfortunate mall kiosk purchase...
I was almost swallowed whole by cabin fever today and since I couldn't get it together in time for Bible Study, I instead opted for a visit to The Mall. I know what you're thinking and I agree. Obviously, the mall is not an adequate substitute for the study of the Bible, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
The mall visit was short and basically included three things: Chic fil a, a regretful and impetuous purchase at a random mall kiosk, and a visit to Barnes and Noble. My 6-count nugget Kid's Meal at Chic fil a was nice, despite being in the middle of a busy food court whilst feeding The Babe with one hand and myself with the other. But, what really made this venture to the mall rewarding was the 20 minutes I spent in Barnes and Noble.
When I have a moment to think about what I'd like to be doing on any given afternoon, it usually involves the dream of being by myself at Barnes and Noble, some sort of coffee beverage in my hand, leisurely wandering through the Fiction and Literature section of said store for as long as my little heart desires. On my very first Mothers' Day (which was this year), I requested as my gift from Matt (and Sam) an hour at B & N by myself and a little spending money for a book or two. Despite the fact that the hour ended up only being 45 minutes for one reason or another, it was a glorious forty and five minutes. Two books, a magazine and a cafe latte later, I was a new woman.
If you aren't a book lover or a word lover of some sort, you probably won't understand how incredibly comforting and exhilarating the smell of a new, freshly published book can be. I felt my heart unfold a little as I pushed Sam's stroller through the aisles of lovely covers and intriguing titles this afternoon. I love seeing familiar books that I've read more than once dolled up in new covers (today's favorite was "Out of Africa's" fancy new book jacket). I also love discovering new titles that I've yet to read and dream of reading one after another after Sam graduates from high school, eighteen years from now. Sigh.
Out of all those thousands of books on the shelves today, I found myself purchasing one I've read twice already. C.S. Lewis says something about what it means to read a book more than once and I wish I could remember what it was he said. I think it's something relatively close to "a book worth reading is worth reading more than once." It's possible I just made up that quote, but it reminds me of something Lewis said once...or maybe said. Sort of.
Anyhoo, I wandered over to the biography section of B & N hoping to find a copy of Condaleeza Rice's new book, as I'd just seen her interviewed about it yesterday and found my interest piqued. But, instead, I saw the familiar green cover of Martha Beck's Expecting Adam and knew immediately that I needed to read it for a third time. I won't explain why this book is one of my favorites here, but I will say that it is totally worth your time.
I felt that lovely satisfaction of purchasing something worthwhile as I swiped my card and walked out with my B & N bag hung over the handle of Sam's stroller. I'm hopeful that tomorrow's weather is overcast (i.e. perfect reading weather) and that Sam takes a long afternoon nap (i.e. wishful thinking).
Ah, Barnes and Noble, you were the welcome antidote to a bout of cabin fever and a refuge from the intellectual black hole that stay-at-home motherhood can sometimes be.
Now, if only I could undo that unfortunate mall kiosk purchase...
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