There is a rocking chair, passed down from mother to daughter, carted all over the United States during various family moves, from Georgia to Nebraska by way of California and Oregon. It’s been painted several colors, the most recent being an aqua blue, and it has an old fashioned woven seat that is falling apart in several places. This story has been told before… The chair was stolen off our front porch sometime last winter. Considering the depths of snow on our porch during that time, it’s no surprise I didn’t notice the crime for some time.
I noticed this time. The latest story goes like this. I walked over to my neighbors’ house Monday evening for a book shower in honor of Livia around 7:15 pm. While all the merriment was occurring, another thief (or perhaps the same one, who knows?) crept up my front steps and stole a 12 inch clay pot, full of soil, salmon-colored impatiens and some small white trailing flowers (I can’t recall their name). This pot is quite heavy, so I imagine a male committed the act. When I came home from the shower, our front porch light hadn’t been turned on and our blinds were still open. The thug could see right into our house and could plan his actions based on the absence of movement within the living room. I noticed that the pot was gone around 10:30 pm.
Just now, after checking our mailbox, I noticed something else was missing… Two small solar garden lights have also been taken. And my anger and frustration is once more aroused.
The sheer INJUSTICE of this is what gets to me. I can only imagine how angry I’d become if a drunk driver killed a family member, or if some other true atrocity was committed against someone I love. These fairly small incidents make me so annoyed! How dare someone simply take these items from my house? They didn’t pay for them. They didn’t spend 30 minutes at Earl May being particular about the color and size of bedding plants. They didn’t water them every other day with love. They didn’t install the lights and appreciate them night after night. They didn’t move around the country, carefully hauling a Southern rocking chair.
It’s not as though I live in a “bad” neighborhood where porch furniture needs to be chained to the floor or where bars should cover windows. Fortunately my neighbors don’t seem to be missing anything. We’ve only had to call the police a few times for fairly small incidents. Argh. No rhyme or reason to someone’s foolishness. I just pray that our thief will be convicted of the wrongness of his actions and that something will make him change his ways… Getting back my flower pot, solar lights and rocking chair, along with a note of apology and a more positive plan for his future, would be nice, too.
* The flowers in the photo are vinca. All pots of vinca are present and accounted for.
Man, showers are the best! Baby showers, that is… Jeremy took the day off today and we went to the mall (I’ve been telling him that all errands are MUCH more enjoyable with him along!). We used a gift certificate at Dillards to buy a few outfits Livia can wear now. We also figured out how to negotiate the stroller on an escalator. I can tell you that I will never attempt to go DOWN by myself—doing so would result in me, Livia and the Graco stroller in a messy pile at the bottom of the moving stairs… not good.
I can’t express how grateful I am for these baby showers. New baby clothes, especially ones from department stores and specialty shops, are expensive!! If it were up to our budget, Livia would only wear garage sale deals (which are lovely and very worthwhile when you can get nice stuff).
All in all, we’ve been really really spoiled by our friends and family. One great big humongous Zion shower and another hosted by Jeremy’s co-workers at iUniverse were enjoyed last week. Tonight is the final bit o’ fun given by my great friends Sarah and Charity. Livia will be one very blessed, well-dressed little girl for the next year, thanks to lots of generous friends.
Yesterday we had Livia baptized and it all went really smoothly! It was a special day and we were thrilled Adam & Kris and Jeremy’s folks joined us at Zion Church. Pastors Stu and Tobey did the baptism (Livia slept peacefully until the water was placed on her little noggin, but even then, no tears!). Thanks to Jason for the video. Afterward we had dinner at Lazlo’s, home to the best french fries, and apparently salmon-avocado salad, money can buy. Thanks to Charity for the picture of Jeremy and myself… I’m used to being behind the camera, so I always appreciate a nice picture of the two of us! You can tell by the beams on our faces that we are the proudest parents in the world. Livia has filled our hearts to bursting with joy. We just can’t get enough of her. This is a measure of how crazy parent-love is: last night I actually felt sad that she was asleep in her crib in a dark room because then I couldn’t watch her anymore. Crazy, but good. We sure love this little babe.
Several years ago I attempted to read Tolstoy’s War and Peace, “attempted” being the operative word. I got knee-deep (okay, maybe ankle-deep) in this great piece of literature before abandoning it for other reading endeavors. So, a few weeks ago, in the traveling library we like to call the Bookmobile, I was somewhat suprised that the cover of another Tolstoy novel beckoned to me… Anna Karenina. Upon seeing the Oprah’s Book Club symbol I almost put the book back out of embarrassment as if reading an “Oprah” book was too trendy and housewife-ish. I’m glad I didn’t let pride interfere with this book choice, though, as I now understand why Tolstoy is such a revered author. His command of the written word is truly amazing and if I had not been reading a borrowed copy of the book I would have highlighted and underlined enormous sections of the novel. I believe Tolstoy has exceptional insight into human nature, which he then records in astounding detail. My one recommendation is that if you choose to read Anna Karenina, pick the version translated by Volokhonsky and Pevear; I’m convinced their meticulous translation allowed me to enjoy and finish the entire novel.
After completing the book I got online and looked around for some analysis on the tale—lo and behold I discovered Bernard Rose’s motion picture, released in 1997. A quick look at the cast revealed great promise: Sophie Marceau as Anna, Sean Bean as her lover Count Vronksy, and Alfred Molina as Levin (my favorite character). With great expectation, and forgetting that typically movies are never as good as their written counterparts, I watched the flick and discovered that looks aren’t everything. The movie is beautiful—the actors, costumes and sets are very well-done—but I was disappointed at the film’s outset due to Levin’s voiceover narration (which annoyingly continued throughout the entire movie). In addition, I disagreed with the director’s interpretation of the tale’s two romantic relationships (Anna/Vronksy and Levin/Kitty) as being parallel stories. Tolstoy’s novel contains several examples of love and marriage, infidelity and fidelity; these two storylines are simply the most prominent. My last complaint is somewhat minor, but nagging nonetheless… All actors spoke English (with a smattering of Russian), but each with an accent from his or her own country. You’ve got Molina and Bean with British accents, Marceau with a French twist, and even worse, Mia Kirshner (a darling Kitty) with an American accent. Argh! If Kirshner had attempted even a semi-British accent I would have been much happier. (The same thing bothered me in Troy as well.)
As often is the case, the book is excellent and the 1997 movie is fair-to-middling. If you want to conquer Tolstoy, I’d suggest Anna Karenina… but don’t take my word for it [said in Lavar Burton voice]. For just a hint of Tolstoy’s genius, read the first two paragraphs of this passage on Levin’s adjustment to married life.
IT’S FINAL!
Our adoption was finalized this morning—praise the Lord!! Do a little jig, crack a smile, or laugh out loud with joy! Get your happy face on and thank the good Lord with us. May God grant us the grace to raise Livia with wisdom and lots of love.
I’m in the midst of a transition from part-time administrative assistant to full-time homemaker. First I must say that I LOVE MY DAUGHTER, she’s my joy and delight and I’m incredibly blessed to spend my days with her. Nonetheless, this transition is a bit of a challenge and it’s pulling on my heart some tonight. Tonight I began missing my office. I miss the daily discussions with my coworkers. I miss knowing what’s going on both within the office and within the church. I miss the satisfaction of working five hours each day and mentally calculating my monetary earnings. I miss the organization (don’t laugh, the Zion office does have *some* organization!) of my desk, this posted here and that filed there. I just miss it. My home right now feels like the opposite of my sentimental office longings… There’s baby stuff, Becca stuff, Jeremy stuff everywhere. Here stuff, there stuff, everywhere stuff-stuff. Old McTredway had a house—E-I-E-I-O. My tasks seem never-ending and unrewarding at times. What? Another dish is dirty? Didn’t I just wash that dish??? Huh? A bag of Doritos in the bathroom and baby socks on the stairs? How’d they get there? When Jeremy comes home at the end of the day and I try to give him a synopsis of my doings, I’m left with very little to talk about. The mental calculations add up to: fed Livia, diapered Livia and generally kept Livia happy. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE LIVIA and would sacrifice my body to wild wolves in order to keep her tummy full, bottom clean and a smile on her adorable face. That’s not the point. The point is that I’m experiencing some change in my life and I’ve never been one to eagerly embrace change. I miss the office. Things just seemed easier there.
We’re officially doing the Blockbuster-imitates-Netflix-deal for the next month. Couldn’t resist when they offered $10 off the normal price. So hold onto your hats, it’s movie time. If you want to get in touch with us for the next four weeks, plan on leaving a message—’cuz, baby, we’re watchin’ the boob tube! Pookie’s sleeping (which means I need to grab a quick nap, too), so for now I’ll leave a review of our recent viewings.
The stay-at-home mom’s work apparel is negotiable. She could just as easily wash bottles and clean toilets in her pajamas as well as in shorts and a t-shirt. I was aware of this truth prior to bringing Livia home and was prepared for at least one aspect of the transition from working outside the home to working inside the home. I once heard another mom say that she needed to shower and get dressed each day, just as she would for any other job. (Those of you with kids understand that the seemingly simple tasks of showering and dressing are not simple whatsoever when you are caring for every need of another human being.) I’m quickly realizing that my self-esteem is based, at least to a degree, on the way I present myself physically. If I’m scruffy all day long, in junky jean shorts and a t-shirt with little to no makeup, I don’t exactly feel great about myself. It’s important for me to maintain a respectable persona apart from the dirtier aspects of stay-at-home mommyhood… So this is my goal: to wake up each day, find a few moments to spend quietly in God’s Word, and to bathe and get dressed in clothes other people can see me in. If you happen to see me around town in a sweatsuit and no lipstick, smack me hard, quote this blog entry, and send me home.
This photo has nothing to do with the above paragraph (and yes, I did add it after posting the other stuff)… other than the fact that it makes me feel better about myself when I do go out in sweats and no makeup. Hee hee. (Thanks, Noon, for being so darn photogenic and for being such a good sport as to allow your meanie, blogging sister to show it to the world!)
In preparation for the weekly weekend blog drought, I wanted to leave something new on View from the Prairie Box. The question is: what to write? Doesn’t matter, says my opinionated internal blogger, just leave something! Everyday I have a ritual of websites to visit, most of which are blogs. And everyday I’m just a little bummed out when a blogger hasn’t posted for days. So this particular post doesn’t have to be interesting or funny, fascinating or poignant… It just has to BE.
Upon digging through my iPhoto stash, I found something to share—so I actually do have something to write about. Sometime last week Sarah brought Calvin over and the kiddos both napped and lunched while us mamas also lunched (the nap would’ve been nice, but no). Livia, in her happiest of positions, stretched out on my legs, was being poked and prodded for the camera: “Smile for Mama, Livia! Come on, babe! Smile for Mama!” No smile. Not for Mama and certainly not for the camera two inches from her face. Someone was smiling, however. Calvin, in all his carrot-faced glory, gave multitudes of golden beams in my direction. Didn’t matter at all that I was asking a different little person for a grin!
