Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Lost Connections

The social network phenomenon maybe isn't always a good thing. This weekend I saw, through a mutual friend,that one of my dearest friends from my college years got married. Yay! Where the possible negative enters in is because I wasn't invited. I. Wasn't. Invited. I feel hurt, like in third grade when a friend chose not to spend the night with another friend instead of me.

To be fair, I have to admit that I haven't spoken to this friend is about 3 years. What's that you say? I have no reason to be upset if it's been that long since we've actually spoken? You're right. I know it. The thing is, this particular friend has always been a sister of my heart. Someone who has, after minutes, days, or years without speaking, has instant familiarity with the deepest parts of me. For some reason, I thought this feeling of fondness would be returned from afar. And that is where I have to accept complete and utter responsibility for my snub. I mean, how can I wax on poetically about my love for a friend that I haven't taken the time to call, email, write a letter in over three years? Why oh why do I let people that I love slip away? Is it just a matter of human nature or just a sign of my laziness? Does the fact that I let these cherished ones float away mean that our connection was fleeting? That the connection I celebrate and exalt in memory wasn't all that deep in real life? Perhaps. I just know that for now I feel like a schoolgirl when my best friend, a sure thing, was going to pick me for her team--I knew it as soon as our eyes met across the room, only to be shattered as I was relegated to last on the list.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Chris' sister, Trisha, and her husband, George came all the way from Virginia for a visit this weekend. It has been a long, long time since they've seen Elliott live and in person--Like since he was a screaming, red-faced, overly fussy infant. Don't worry. We've kept them updated on his tremendous growth through precious snapshots, humorous videos and darling anecdotes. Generally, things that make them giggle in adoration or coo out "awws" at his overwhelming precocious nature.

Imagine their surprise when greeted with a screeching, opinionated toddler greeted them, answering their every question with "noooo." I saw the covert looks exchanged above his head, the ones that read, "Uhhhh. . . This is not the child we've heard stories about over the past year and a half. Really. How do any eardrums survive that decibel?" The truth is, he was that kid until about 2 days ago. Okay, okay, maybe it was a week ago. All I know is that I want the sweet, compliant child of a month ago back. I now know the embarrassment of a toddler looking at me, his mother, staring into my eyes deeply and screaming in frustration. I am fairly certain this episode, along with him clinging to my legs or falling onto the floor crying in frustration have been effective birth control for Trisha & George. Very effective, in deed.

P.S. I'll include the super-cute zoo pictures and those classic adorable, perfect child moments in a post later this week. Must keep up the ruse, right?

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Sodden Bliss

Yesterday, Hermine came to town. It was the house-guest you think you'd like to have visit and then decide, "Oh crap! This is awkward. I made a mistake." What I'm trying to say is that we North Texans wanted rain, but we got way more than we had bargained.

Our dog, Humphrey, is the delicate, finicky sort (unless trying to eat himself to death) and strictly protests doing his business if it means soggy paws. I let him out first thing in the morning, for which he was clamoring when I awoke, but quickly tried to duck and sway around me while I continually said, "Go potty, Humphrey. Go. POTTY." Ridiculous. Elliott took this moment to toddle at tip-top speed out onto the patio while screeching, "Agua, agua, agua! Ow-dye, Ow-dye, Ow-dye (outside outside outside)!" Upon feeling those first plops of water hitting the top of his head, Elliott immediately threw his arms up into the air, simultaneously throwing his head back in joy. Oh, that a simple rain shower could bring me such unadulterated joy. Wait. Watching that child o' mine throwing his head back in unadulterated joy brings this mama joy beyond measure.