Re-arranging

My Heart and Other Things...

I have a monster of chores stacked against me right now.

We decided to flip our living rooms;

make the former television room a sitting area

and the previous study a man-cave.

My husband now has the room of his dreams - 

big screen,

oversize sofa,

vinyl collection and

guitars all around him.

I now have a piano room,

a place that we are not yet sure how to use,

but think we need to entertain and at least let people sit and look at how pretty it is.

This weekend I had another blow-out with my mom. I was on my way to visit her when an unfortunate verbal exchange took place and was overheard by my to-be-sister-in-law. 

Long story short: I wanted my mom's attention,

was calling her on my way to visit her and she was blowing me off on the phone because she was with my aforementioned sister,

I yelled, (in the mature twenty-something manner that I do),

 "I am your daughter, not her!"

Jenny heard.

She cried.

I cried.

Mom cried.

Everyone freaked out and it was this huge ordeal.

I went on to visit, 

but just wanted to go home.

I have pent-up anger and resentment towards my mom about some past issues.

My comment really had nothing to do with sister-in-law-to-be;

it had everything to do with me.

I called my aunt and tried to get her sympathy. She told me that I should never say anything that I do not want other people to hear. She did not give me the answer and the "oh, it is okay" that I wanted.

All goodness is restored, but it was a bitch of a day, that Saturday.

I've got to move the jealousy out,

re-arrange my heart,

forgive my mom for our beef,

not let innocent people be crushed along the way.

Forgive me, Jenny?

I hope so.

Forgive you mom?

I hope soon.

Love you both.

Love, Sarah

While I Cook

Baby begs for me to hold her,

chicken screams,

microwave beeps,

garage door opens,

husband is home.

If tired did not start with T

It would start with some other letter. It would be a different word, but there would still be the need for the meaning of the word, even if that very word did not exist. Tired.

It is November tenth. Three of my surrounding neighbors have their homes decked in Christmas lights. Oh suburbia, how I love you, how I hate you, all at the same time. We dropped the ball by only having three baby pumpkins in our yard, I know. We will try our best to live up to your expectations for the winter season. Would a Nativity lawn scene suffice? If we just outline the front of our house with lights, and save the high scary roof pitches, we hope you will not mind.

Tonight when I walked my baby down the street and to the park nearby, she ran immediately to the tire swing. She would hardly do play with any other big toy tonight. When she tired of sitting on it she said, "underneath" and went through the middle and out from below. Underneath.

What's the word on the street? No, not underneath, tired.

I am sitting in the guest room while Matt gets Lucia ready for bed. I take off and hide while he performs bath duty, book duty and has a possible showing of Elmo. If I put her down, she throws a fit and cries "mama, mama, mama!" If he puts her down, she quietly drifts off to sleep. She has my number; so she knows I am a sucker.

But what she has yet to learn about her mama...obsessed with clothes, Sweden, Czech, France, Grammar Girl and all things old and gold.

Happy almost Friday to you.

And me.

today

there are times that words seem so easy and just roll off my fingers onto the screen.
other days i am tongue-tied and feel there is no voice,
like i am a girl with tape slapped across her mouth.

i told myself i was going to use this blog as a tool;
a tool to get stuff out and to celebrate what makes me happy,
etcetera,
etcetera,
etcetera.
so far, not so good, but perhaps i will get there eventually.

for now -- for today though -- i am just a girl
with duct tape on my lips.

Today I needed to read this:

Thank you to my source, Dressed Up Like a Lady

Somewhere in-between...

...a  good day and a bad day.

Monday has too much power over me.

Could it be that I had too much sleep because of the time change?
Could it be that those students were freaking energized and loud?
Could it be that my tights were too much?

My mom did call at seven am just to say I looked pretty yesterday.
My husband did send me a love-text during first period.
My cheer girls did give me an edible bouquet.

Somewhere in-between a good day and a bad.
More good than bad.
Just a Monday, after all.

Love, me and my tights