Monthly Archives: June 2012

This one time I was sleeping and…

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Have you ever had a waking dream? A dream that is so real that when you wake up you think it’s all still real?

This one time I was sleeping and…I was dreaming that I had a little metal tray with holes in it. On this tray was a worm. A worm that I most definitely didn’t want in my bed. And yet, all of a sudden, I was awake and I couldn’t find my tray! The following conversation then took place:

Me: Geoff! I can’t find my tray!

Geoff: Mmmph…

Me: It was right here! Where is it??

Geoff: What??

Me: Did you take it? If you took it you’re going to be in big trouble!

Geoff: What are you talking about?

Me: My little metal tray! With the worm!

Geoff: Megg, are you awake?

Me: …

Thank goodness he has a good sense of humor, since this took place at 3 am.

 

Mama’s Losin’ It

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Crazy brain

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Alternatively titled…Pregnancy Brain without the Pregnancy, but I didn’t want that to be the subject people see in their Google reader. I’m sure most people would stop at pregnancy brain and not move on.

Anyway. Lately I feel like I have pregnancy brain, without the pregnancy. I’ve been unusually forgetful lately. I’m not talking, attempting to put the cat’s treats in the fridge forgetful (although I did that yesterday), I’m talking flat-out swear I did something when I didn’t, forgetful.

Example 1: I was boiling water for one of our favorite summer “salads” (basically cous-cous with fresh mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and red wine vinegar) when I went to look for the fresh mozzarella cheese I bought last week. When I couldn’t find it in the cheese drawer I proceeded to tear the refrigerator apart, yell at Geoff for eating my cheese, and even search through the reusable bags hanging on the pantry door, sure I just forgot to unpack it. I insisted that I’d bought the cheese just last week; I could even see myself in the grocery store buying it (I asked a lady to move just so I could reach the cheese. Politely, of course.) I couldn’t understand where it had gone! (Strangely enough the tomato I thought I’d bought was also missing, though I couldn’t remember buying that as clearly as the cheese)

The next night I spied my grocery list that I made on Friday, after planning out the week’s menu. Right there on top was fresh mozzarella cheese. I guess I didn’t buy it after all.

I just chalked it up to being tired, even though I was well-rested coming off the weekend. Then, yesterday, after I tried to put the cat’s treats into the fridge, I looked around for my lunch bag, so I could empty it and wash the stuff for the next day. When Geoff couldn’t find it (I was loading the dishwasher!) I insisted that he wasn’t looking closely, because I knew I’d brought it into the house. I remembered grabbing it from my car and bringing it in. So Geoff headed out to my car and…what do you know? Someone clearly brought it back to my car, because I didn’t leave it there when I came in!

It was probably the cats.

Then there was the time this weekend that I sold a bunch of books for $20 and freaked out when it wasn’t in my cup holder anymore, only to realize later that I had already put it in my wallet.

I’m pretty sure I have pregnancy brain without the pregnancy. And it’s getting a little ridiculous.

(Before you ask, no, I am not pregnant, and I know that for a fact! I’m just going crazy)

Summer Bucket list, Megg style

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The epitome of summer, to me, is laundry on the line.

I’ve seen some people post summer bucket lists, and decided to jump on the bandwagon. That, and I didn’t have anything else to post today. I’m running on empty since we’re transitioning into summer camp at work, and life is just full and busy. So, in honor of the first day of summer 2 days ago, I present my summer bucket list! (In no particular order)

  • See Les Miserables with Geoff
  • Drive cross country with my sister
  • Take an overnight trip to Portland to visit breweries We decided to take a day trip instead
  • Go on a picnic with Geoff
  • Hang clothes on the line as often as possible
  • Take a nap on a blanket outside
  • Go camping with Geoff (get an air mattress first!)
  • Make homemade ice cream
  • Go to the beach with Geoff
  • Grill outside at least twice a week
  • Whip the garden(s) into shape
  • Go to a baseball game
  • Go to a local carnival
  • Watch a meteor shower
  • Play in the sprinkler
  • Make s’mores

What’s on your summer bucket list? Have I missed anything?

The story of a little boy

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I met this little boy 6 years ago this past March. We spent a few hours together, and he changed my life forever. I recently found this picture on the computer, and remembered him. I want to share his story again. I could retell the story, but instead I’m going to post the original “journal” I wrote about our day at the daycare when I met him.

 

One of the early days of the trip we visited a day care center for kids who lived in a nearby favela (Portuguese for slum). During the week about 100 kids come to the day care where they are given a warm meal and a chance to get off the streets.
Kids are kids, happy, adorable and absolutely thrilled to see some new people, Americans no less! They loved playing with us, listening to our English and just being together.

Everyone from our group did something different, some people were painting, some were cooking, and some were playing with the kids. I played with the kids, trying to teach them English, but I finally gave up and just read to them. They laughed all the way through Hop on Pop!
There was a little boy there who I fell in love with. He started crying while all the kids were crowded around me, looking at a book. I pulled him over to me, and sat him on my lap. After that, whenever I left he’d find me again; he was my little buddy

After lunch Regina took four of us, Kevin {our pastor} and I included, on a little trip to the home of one of the families whose three girls attend the day care center we were working at. In my somewhat limited mission trip experience, I have never seen poverty like that. It’s impossible to describe, and give it justice. The small house was split into three rooms, where five people lived.
One of the kids from the day care, whose house we visited, came with us. She skipped along the path, thrilled to be able to show us her house. Her mother greeted us at the door, honored to have us visiting her house. She regretted that she had nothing to offer us, Regina {our trip leader} said.

They say the sense of smell is your strongest memory. Never in my life will I forget how that house smelled. It smelled damp, musty and mildewy. I couldn’t imagine waking up every day to a smell like that which would never go away.

In the front room, which was little bigger than a hallway, was a cupboard with a few dishes and a sink overflowing with water. Regina later explained that the water was stolen, and therefore, they could never shut it off, that’s why it was overflowing like that. Either stolen water or nothing, I guess.
The middle room of the house contained a TV, which surprised me, and an ottoman. I thought about nights in their house, with the five of them crowded in that small room, watching TV. Where did they sit? On the damp concrete floor? What about dinner? Did they eat it on their laps, right there? Did they get dinner? Who sat on the ottoman?

The third room was the bedroom. A foam mattress was propped against the wall and a pile of dirty blankets sat in a crib in the corner. In that room slept the parents and three girls. The five of us just barely fit in. I was reminded of the book Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and how, when I was little, I couldn’t imagine anyone being as poor as Charlie’s family was. But of course, that was fiction. People didn’t really live like that, did they? This family did.

The whole house used to consist of just one room, but they were able to expand it, adding on the other two rooms. Now they thought their house was big.

Kevin prayed for the house and family before we left. The woman could not stop crying, and neither could I. I couldn’t stop thinking about the family that lived in that house, and the little boy I’d met earlier. For the first time I understood the verse in 1 Corinthians 12, “If one part [of the body] suffers every part suffers with it…”

After we left the favela Regina explained that people there are taught to do whatever they can to survive. Kill, steal, whatever. That woman who was so honored that we visited, who regretted that she didn’t have any coffee to offer us, who loves her kids, is forced to prostitute herself to feed her family.
Going back to the daycare with red eyes, I knew what I had to do. Knowing what these kids had to go home to every day I gave them all I had to offer, all I could give. Love and attention.

When it came time to leave it was all I could do not to cry. Even though I had only just met him, I loved that little boy, and every one of those kids. I knew I would never see him again, and yet I also knew I could never forget that little boy, or what I had seen that day.

Mother Theresa put it best when she said, “I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts than there is no hurt, only more love.”
Who am I? I’m not worthy to be thought of so highly and yet she was so glad to have us visit. I came to help, I came to give, and I left fuller than I had come.

 

When we returned to the daycare, I saw it with new eyes. I turned around and Kevin gave me a hug, and I sobbed. I sobbed for the lost childhood of the children there, for the love they were able to show us. For the little boy. I wonder where he is now. He was probably about 4 or 5 when I met him, which makes him 10 or 11 now. Is he still living in the favela? What is he forced to do to survive? I hope and pray that, while it seems nigh impossible, he has been able to move out, and live a better life, he deserves more. They all did.

Whedon Wednesday…new series!

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You know you’ve done it. Sitting on your couch, alone, or with someone else, watching someone you care about die. The tears fall silently down your cheeks as you stare in shock at the TV, the last breath leaving your favorite character. Your mouth hangs open, as your heart is torn out, and you don’t know how you can continue the series.

No one does this nearly as well as Joss Whedon. I sometimes think he’s in my head, noting the characters I love the most, and deciding to kill them, just to mess with me. He builds the most wonderful characters; characters you love, characters you love to hate, characters you don’t like in the beginning, but who grow on you…and then they die.

Born out of a love for all things Joss, my sister and I decided to do a series of eulogies on our favorite characters from all of Joss’s shows: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Firefly, Dollhouse and Dr. Horrible’s Sing-along Blog. But there are so, so many characters, so we enlisted the help of Elspeth and Rachel, we have tackled the long list of deaths that have affected us in Joss’s (wonderful) work.

Stay tuned! The posts that I don’t write, I will link you to. Obviously, if you haven’t watched any of Joss’s work, or are in the middle of a show, you may want to avoid this series. If you haven’t watched any of Joss’s shows, stop reading and do that right now!

I love The Bean

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Ranked up there in the cities that I love is Chicago. I spent 4 years visiting my sister when she lived in Chicago and I was actually really sad when she decided to leave. (Luckily for me, she’s moving back!)

I think I visited Chicago at least 3 times while Laura was in school, and every time I made sure to visit The Bean. I don’t know what it is about the thing, but it fascinates me. I love the pictures you can take with it, and I love being creative with how I take pictures. Even if, in 3 weeks, we roll into Chicago and have to head straight to the airport (unlikely, but you never know), I’m going to stop by The Bean, and take yet another picture.

So, here are a few of my favorite bean pictures, in honor of my upcoming visit to Chicago.

My first visit to the bean, 2007.

 

My sister and I at the bean in 2007

 

Geoff and I at the bean, 2011

 

Laura and I at the bean, 2011. One of my all time favorites!

 

My favorite bean picture. My family in 2011.

Poop doesn’t belong on Facebook

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Facebook has come a long way from the beginning. Remember when it was only open to people with a school email? Remember when you had to post a status with “is” in front of it? Then, remember when everyone and their grandmother were suddenly on Facebook, and you had to watch what you say, because your grandmother was reading? Remember when Facebook was for sharing your engagement, new relationships or pregnancies? Remember when Facebook was for sharing your baby’s poop habits?

Wait, what?

Yes, that’s right. My Facebook feed seems to have acquired a bad habit for regular baby poop discussions. From multiple people, too. Now, I love babies as much as the rest of you, for sure. I love seeing pictures, and I do enjoy the occasional silly comment on what your kid is saying. Heck, I get that every day! But poop discussions, or worse, pictures? No thank you.

So, Facebook, I respectfully request that you please stop posting about poop. I enjoy seeing your baby updates and seeing your babies growing, especially since I don’t have one of my own! And I’m not squeamish, it’s just that, well…Facebook is for keeping up with my friends, not my friend’s baby’s bowel movements.

If, when I have a kid, I pull shit like this (pun intended) please call me out and show me this post.

And if I’ve offended, then I’m sorry. Actually, I’m not. Poop doesn’t belong on Facebook.