Eh. . .What was that, sonny?

Sandy Clouthier asked me if I remembered what life was like before I had kids. I said no.

My kids are under 5. I really can’t remember. I think that I was about to become someone that I could like and be proud of. Someone who could earn a living and who could be witty and charming. Someone who was skinny (alright, skinnier) and who could cook great food and entertain. Someone who could go out to the bar after work and fly all over the country to conferences. Someone who could be intelligent and coherent when presenting; a world changing academic marvel.

And now I am. . .someone who changes poopy diapers in her lap. Someone who can actually remember the dosages for tylenol, ibuprophen, and robitussin for everyone under 200lbs. Someone who may dice your food for you before you eat. I may also offer you a hanky, say “you need to eat more,” and wonder why you don’t call more.

It’s an interesting change. I can dig it. Sometimes.


The best vitamin for a Christian

Can you guess what it is?


I actually saw that on a church sign tonight.

I’ve got a confession to make. I am not a good Christian. And don’t worry. I’m not leading any small groups or mentoring anyone so the health and wellbeing of the flock should be secure.

But I did a little inventory today of what I believe. It was shocking and embarassing (two r’s or two s’s?). But I think it’s true.

I don’t believe in the whole concept of “Just keep praying, just keep praying, just keep praying, praying, praying.” Really I want someone to tell me what is prayer supposed to be like? Am I the only one who has ever questioned whether I’m talking to myself? And am I the only one who doesn’t have large swathes of time with which to “lay on my face” and wait for God to do something?
Joe Canvas Shoe Christian: you have to make time. You are not doing anything more important.

Right, not chasing the children or will work for food or on the rare occasion, sleeping to get up and do it all again.

Either way, my point is that I cannot in good conscience say that I believe that when someone says “I’ll pray for you” life’s gonna get any better.

Another point. I don’t think I do so well as a Christian wife. I can’t seem to get the balance of submission and death just right. working on it, though.

It’s kind of liberating to take off my white canvas shoes for a moment.

sometimes God sucks. and if that makes me a petulant little child, so be it.


a bittersweet end.

The Folk festival was a blast. I forgot the camera. Don’t be upset. I remembered the children.

We went Sat and Sun and I think the music has been better in other years. But it is so much fun to be outside with lots of people and to be able to let the kids run and play. The folk festival is like the unofficial end to the summer festival season. so. . .

Classes start this thursday. I’ll be working monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday and friday. I think that’s all week. I’ve lost track. I still need a sitter for thursday afternoons. Think about it. can’t pay ya, but the kids are GRRRRREAAT!


Catch 22 (what does that even mean?)

So I was reading this book. . .

“He passed streets full of houses just like his own: Victorian brick dividing him from mothers unable to hear the white noise in their heads over crying babies and demanding toddlers, in their self-imposed luxury prisons. When they needed a community, each one would switch on the radio and be traumatized by dramatic news stories of death and destruction. When they needed company, they’d turn on the television and be confronted with images of perfection and ads created to make them feel overweight, ugly, smelly, and sad. And when it all got too much, they’d pop Prozac and keep it to themselves.”

Now, I’m not sure about the self-imposition part but reading that section was a little bit scary for me. It is hard to explain the fine balance between the desire to rear your children and the utter shock to the system the necessary shift in function. Perhaps some years ago the transition was not so stark.

Check this out.

“Vanessa sighed. ‘If we’d been living 150 years ago and were rich, I wouldn’t have even been expected to breast-feed my babies, but I felt so guilty because I couldn’t. If I’d been poor, I’d have popped them out in my tea break and got back to work. . .If I’d lived in a biblical tribe, I’d have had all the women of the tribe supporting me, helping me, feeding me, and looking after me. Only one generation ago, I’d have probably had my family living down the street, would have known all my neighbors and would have spent the first fortnight of motherhood being looked after in hospital and sleeping off the trauma of giving birth. . . . ‘ ”


What’s the comment? I don’t know. I think I don’t like working as much as I thought I would and I don’t want any flak for that. And I think I don’t like Momming as much as I hoped I would and I really don’t want any flak for that. I love my kids and desperatly want them to be happy. I just can’t quite figure out how to do that. I get braindrain from playing with the Mr. Potato Head Farm and I need money (lots of it) to take them to the children’s museums and visiting with friends. We’re no fun if people have to pay for us all the time.

Is it all right to say all this?

Anyway, Eva has started crying now whenever I pick up my purse. That’s ridiculous.


I’ve got friends in low places . . .

Hey, I’ve got a question again.

How do we feel about the “it could be worse” gospel? I think I have sufficiently recovered from the “Prosperity” gospel (you know, follow Christ and all will be well and you’ll get to drive a mercedes) so now I’m struggling with the “it could be worse” gospel.

You know, the “country music song” gospel: “My house burnt down, my dog got shot, I lost my job but at least I have you” gospel. Thanks a lot, God.

The conversation goes like this:

Joe Suffering: “Yikes. I’ve got no money, gotta pay a sitter so I can work, bills aren’t paid and I think I may be crazy. Certifiably crazy. ”

Joe “Canvas Shoe Christian”: “Well, don’t worry, God is with you. And, hey, it could be worse. You could be living in Afghanistan and have to wear a burkha.”

And while that may be true, it could always be worse and I, trapped here in my version of insanity, do not find that comforting.

Go figure.

Lila and Eva


That's my daughter, Lila.
That's my daughter, Lila.

We went to the Ingham County Fair. Hot. Blasted Hot. But we had fun. More pics coming soon (soon as I figure out how to size ’em and junk. Ha.)


. . .And they’re off!

So the girls and I spent 6 hours on campus today. We went to the children’s garden, the butterfly house, toured the horticulture gardens outside, walked up to Kresge which is closed until september, went to the fountain at Nat Sci, went to the bank on Grand River, went to the Parlour (which may turn out to be the new site for Eva’s birthday), played with the trains at Barnes and Noble, walked by the donging bells at Beaumont (Lila really dug that), went by the river and fed the ducks crushed up animal crackers (is that cannibalism), walked over the river and through the woods to the Dairy store for ice cream (they have cotton candy ice cream with pop rocks in it, weird), then walked back to the hort gardens, saw 3 wedding parties in the span of 5 minutes and got in the van.

We made 15 stops at bathrooms along the way and forgot the camera at home.



Once a Thief. . .

Ok i have stolen this picture. But it is a photo of two of my favorite people in the whole world and I think they look CUTE!

Nicole and Cole at Myrtle Beach
Nicole and Cole at Myrtle Beach

That is Cole Hekki (he’s the little one) and Cole Provencal (She’s slightly larger). My two favorite Coles.

I stole that picture from Noel. I’m impressed that I actually knew how to do that! Yeah for Chey.

Anyway, Eva’s birthday (and Cole the lesser) is next Sat and I think we will take all the seats out of the van and have cupcakes in the back. on a tarp. Of course. Can’t get the van messy.

One other funny thing. someday long ago I wrote a post with an ironic title; or so I thought.

Apparently, this particular post and title are drawing search engine hits as a result of the title not the topic. (it’s World Wide Wrestling vs. Anne Lamott. . .Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!!!!)


The Greatest Mac. . .

I am currently watching what may be the worse movie ever: Starsky and Hutch.

But despite the sheer stupidity of this film there was one priceless quote:

“Some one once said, ‘to err is human, to forgive, Divine.’ “–Huggy Bear (i.e. snoop dogg)

“What idiot said that?” -Hutch

“I believe it was God–The greatest Mac of all time.”

God — the greatest Mac of all time!

Help. It’s so funny I can’t stand it. really.


One more thing. . .

For all the resident geeks. today I have used my airport card for the first time (at Van Java–buy coffee, spend money, they’re going under). It seems to make my computer a little slow and sluggish, but remember we are dealing with a tangerine dream that is older than both my children combined and that is trying to run the Panther (wrrooow!)

So it may be that the computer is just slow or it maybe the card is slowing it down or it could be the itunes, safari, icalendar, os9, word, address book and ichat all open together. Who knows?;)

anyway, so here is my question, what are the security issues with wireless? I’ve been back and forth to some of my password protected sites (like this one, webmail, etc.) and have logged in and out to save computer brainpower (which I’m sure there is a technical term for) by not leaving 1700 windows open. Is this a good ideas? Are my passwords and stuff just floating aimlessly through the air for all an sundry to see? What is a better solution? How does it all work? Guesses?