knock three times - or at least once

today is friday. normally, on friday, i mow, vacuum, dust, clean the bathrooms and take a nap.
you may have already assumed (because you are brilliant)that this friday was not a normal friday.
today i had to work because there was a meeting with the board of directors. these meetings, for the most part, are very low-key and provide little in the way of news-worthy happenings. not this time. no sir-ee.
it is our general practice to visit the hotel where the board members will be staying so that there are no surprises with the quality of the rooms when our guests check in. we deliver a little gift, write a little note and we take a little tour. the hotel manager accompanied us on our tour because she held the master key. it was not yet time for the guests to check in, so we were using this master key and walking right in to the rooms.
the names and room numbers got mixed up and we delivered one of the little notes to the wrong floor. it was an honest mistake. room 221 mixed up with room 521. once we juggled notes, we set off to rectify the situation.
we approached the room. i was standing off to the side, my friend cindy lu was directly in front of the door, and the manager was to cindy's left. the magical key let us (in our innocence)right in to the room. cindy's mouth fell open. the manager's mouth fell open. i stood frozen. our board member inside the room completed her wardrobe change. you can imagine the look on her face. we fumbled over ourselves with apologies, and i, in my awkwardness, said "um here's your card. can i have the other one?" cindy continued in her apologies as we skulked back down the hall to the elevator. we were mortified, as any of you would have been. we suggested to the hotel manager that she knock before entering any other rooms, and she thanked us with a few freshly-baked cookies.
i didnt talk to that board member today. just couldnt bring myself to do it.

crazy little thing called love

with my 10 year wedding anniversary approaching, i have been just a bit nostalgic. hopefully, im a little better person, a little more patient, a little less selfish and closer to ridiculous in the degree of kindess i pour out on those around me (particularly, bub.)
i am the first to admit that im the last to speak on marriage, but you will read what i have to say and you will appriciate it. you will.
it has taken every bit of these past 10 years for me to realize that the bad things in my life are not ALL HIS FAULT. ok, most of them are, clearly, because im very close to perfect. you will understand that more as our relationship grows. anyway, for some reason i thought that i didnt have to try to make a marriage work. if you find someone you love (or like? eh. i dont know) then you get married-- and from then on, everything is happiness and sunshine. everybody loves everybody. except when they dont. cause sometimes, they wont. (to quote the good dr. seuss) and here is what i learned: you cant quit trying. its really easy to slip in to your life and go on about your business being cordial and somewhat friendly - but youre like that (maybe) with strangers. so i decided to be nice. a pastor friend of mine said this, "we must treat everyone with liberal and shocking grace and kindness." i figured i should try it out. it works well. huh. weird. its hard to be shockingly kind. im not very good at it. but i try.
4 or so years ago, bub and i were ready to punch eachother's lights out (on a daily basis, mind you). we had acquired two small children in a short period of time, which changed my work schedule - ok, eliminated my work schedule- and we were in desperate need of some help. we swallowed our pride and went for some counseling. we were asked this question, "what do you feel is the biggest problem in your marriage?" quickly, and somewhat accusatory, i blurted out, "sin. sin is our problem." naturally, the questions that followed were about details of this sin, which caused me to stammer a bit. we were given one week to process through this category of SIN and were to come back with a list. the next week came and it was time for discussion. bub went first. his was a good, honest list and i was feeling very validated. attention turned to me, my list. well, it was exactly the same as bub's list. i wrote down his sin. clearly not the objective. so i felt pretty stupid at that point. anyway, it makes for a good story.
we're still married. he still puts up with my less-than-kindness. i still put up with his sin. i expect that it will be this way for the next 50 years or so.

my affection for mr shakespeare is ever true, this is one of my favorites, it has always made me smile with bub in mind:
"Love to faults is always blind, always is to joy inclined. Lawless, winged, and unconfined, and breaks all chains from every mind."

the things that shape me

...and today im not talking about spanx. though they are excellent in the way of shaping.
i am, however talking about me. (i talk almost exclusively about me, so theres not much of a change there) the things that shape, have shaped, will shape me. i have very few childhood memories - like less than 20 on a good day, and a handful at the present moment. even without those memories, i will allow my parents and childhood friends to remain in the ranks of shapers.
i want to be more like my grandma Pat in pretty much every way, and i hope, i hope, i hope that i learned all the things i was supposed to learn from her. which brings me to cancer. i hate it. I. HATE. IT. cancer took my grandpa, and my grandma, and was beat by my daddy. take that cancer.
music is a powerful force in my life and you can expect to hear the soundtrack of my life anywhere i go. (if theres nothing playing, i just might be singing). i will go ahead and say that i like all types of music, though the sound of a fiddle just might make my ears bleed. i am a rock and roll girl at heart and (though i hate to admit it sometimes) im a willie nelson fan by marriage, and have seen him in concert more times than i care to tell you about.
michael jackson can make me smile on even the darkest of days but i will never be able to dance like him. i wish that my story could be told by billy joel, who, in my opinion, is one of the greatest story tellers of all time. i love broadway musicals, and had some super-star dreams where broadway is concerned. (refer to the aversion to travel and you will not be surprised that that little gig fizzled before it blasted off)
in other terms of shaping we have my kids. the two of them showed up within 13 months of one another just over 5 years ago and have changed the shape of my life, my hips, my belly... must i go on... forever. they truly are the reason i hoist myself out of bed each day and the reason i havent completely lost my mind (contrary to popular opinion)

this day

This day. It started off with some time with Bub’s grandmomma, which was perfectly sweet, and included some beautiful artwork by sissy. She may not have known who we were, but she was just as hospitable and caring as she ever was. She didn’t want us to go, and we didn’t want to go, to be honest about it, but the kids had other plans. There are times (like these) when it might just save lives to get the kids buckled in their respective seats in the car and head on down the road. In silence. So after the hugs and tears and “I love you with my whole heart’s” we set off down the road.

Next stop, Sea World. It was a lovely day of sun and water and whales and sharks and cranky, tired kids. Now I’m sun burned and lounging in a fancy leather chair, and starting to be not so cranky myself. Theres more.

After Sea World, was the Alamo and the River Walk. ~Where I got sick. Didn’t eat a single bite of my “enchiladas de la casa” and went back to the car to find a place to stay for the night. As you may recall, our hotel/motel finding skills need some work, so I was unsure about the task that lay before us.

Fredericksburg it was. The town of choice. Maybe even my choice… for the rest of my life. Can I just say that I love it here? I want to stay forever. You will see why. I promise.

Fredericksburg

Due to the fact that I don’t travel well, I can not claim to have seen much outside of my home town. Even at home I have always been drawn to the antiquated, the weathered, the proven. That being said, I will just let you know that I found paradise this weekend.

I didn’t want to go, (refer to the fore-mentioned aversion to travel) but I figured we were already 500 miles from home, so why not. Off in to the Texas hill country we went-- and if our jobs back home had not demanded we leave, I dare say, we might have stayed and never looked back.

You may remember our series of unfortunate events as we looked for a hotel room before. Keep that in mind. When we got to historic Fredericksburg, Texas, the sun was slipping a little lower in the west, but it was a perfect time for sight-seeing and lovely night to shoot some pictures. My very accommodating Bub and babes drove me around town to get my photo-fix with the old old churches that stood so dignified, not at all modern - refreshing in my constantly changing world - and I couldn’t get enough, but since the clock was reading 8:49, I turned off my camera and we headed for the row of hotels we had seen as we drove in to town. The continued (and I know, surprising) theme was “No Vacancy.” I have no idea what in the world was going on in Texas this weekend, but I think it was a big deal. Clearly. Bub looked up “hotels in Fredericksburg,” and the first one he called had a room available. It was a little ways outside of town at the county airport, a quaint little hotel that truthfully took my breath away. Its called the Hanger Hotel. Go there. I will add pictures to further entice you.

I am happy to tell you that there was no hair in the drain. The mattress was luxurious. The sheets were like butta. (not in the greasy way. In the soft and smooth way) We chose a room on the top floor and were careful not to lead folks to believe that we were holding a dance competition. The whole place was 1940s themed and perfectly delightful. Bub says we are going back for our anniversary. Without kids.

i forgot my lotion

I forgot my lotion. This is not a good thing for me. Well, off we went without it, 8 hours from home.

The plan was this: drive to my husband’s sister’s house and stay with her over night, then go visit his Grandmomma and off to Sea World. Something you should know about me is this: I don’t travel well. I don’t mind being other places, but if I’m required to drive, float, fly or otherwise travel, I most likely will not go. A friend of mine told me one day, “you’re all about the destination, not about the journey.” He’s right. I’m like that with pretty much everything in life. Anyway - lotion. I forgot it.

So we were south-bound on I-35, and barely – I mean b.a.r.e.l.y. moving down the road. This 8 hour drive was getting longer as we sat and watched- and we were starting to realize that it might not be very nice to show up to sleep at his sister’s house after mid-night. The decision was made to stop somewhere along the way. Surely there will be a Motel 6 or some-such place. Or not. We drove through Austin. We found no place to lay our heads. We moved on to San Marcos. There, in San Marcos, we found a small motel with one room left… just for us. Before you say, “Aahhh! How nice for you all,” I want to relay a few necessary details. It was disgusting. The room had a completely un-identifiable odor, Bub and I both had dreams of meth that night, if that helps any. There was hair piled in the drain of the shower. I’m not kidding, and it wasn’t mine. Ok. I’m a mom. I can handle some hair in the drain, right. Well I took it out super fast and flushed it right away, fighting my gag-reflex the entire time, and Bub never knew, because if he had known his gag-reflex would have been so strong that he would not have won that battle. So, the room--the springs from the mattress poked me in the back all night long, and I’m assuming that the people in the room above us were hosting some kind of dance competition (while cooking meth, remember). I’m really not one to complain, but when our room price was jacked up to $120 for the night (I looked it up online, and the regular rooms were $65—supply and demand… I know) I expected more than this swanky little joint provided. And I was lotion-less, remember? I used the lotion provided by our delightful motel (who also provided room service, which I did not order. Dear. Lord.) I used that lotion, and I smelled like I was an 80 year-old woman who lived with cats.